Deep Kiss of Winter Read Online Free PDF

do I do?”
    She lay stunned, panting raggedly. Too late. . . .
    Even with the arrows removed, too much poison remained inside her. She started convulsing from the heat, couldn’t stop.
    “Daniela, tell me!”
    In her two thousand years of living, she’d never been this hot. Ah, gods, thermal shock.
    Death by shattering. Just as she’d been warned as a girl. Porcelain doll. The starkest fear she’d ever known welled inside her.
    She weakly grabbed his shirt. “Shock. Put me in . . . ice bath.”
    “Shock—what do you mean?”
    “’Bout to . . . die.”

    SIX
    MURDOCH SWOOPED HER UP SO FAST his wounded leg almost gave way. In a flash, he traced her to the bathroom.
    Inside, he began running a cold bath. Once he’d settled her in the large tub, he traced to a gas station, returning a few moments later with stolen bags of ice.
    As he ripped open the bags to dump their contents into the water, he muttered, “This feels wrong to me. Goes against everything I know.”
    Because she was like nothing he’d ever known.
    Am I truly covering a half-naked, critically injured female with ice?
    But when she was up to her neck in it, she sighed in relief. The cold wasn ’t bracing or painful to her—it was clearly soothing, making her drowsy.
    Her shuddering lessened, and her expression calmed.
    When the fear in her eyes ebbed . . . He didn’t even want to think about the relief he felt to see that. “Are you still in danger from the poison?”
    “Nothing else can be done.” She frowned, her gaze unfocused. “You’re injured.”
    “It’s nothing,” he gruffly replied.
    “Take care of yourself, vampire—” Her lids fluttered, and then she was out.
    Sleeping. In ice.
    He couldn’t reconcile this coldness in her. She was like nothing he’d ever dreamed.
    But it didn’t matter if he understood her. Even if she appeared more comfortable, she wasn’t out of danger. Her face was still flushed angrily. If cold was good for her, then she needed more of it.
    He traced to the thermostat, turning on the air-conditioning full force. Though he didn’t want to leave her—not to drink from the supply of blood he kept in the kitchen, nor to bandage his own wounds—he traced for more ice, stuffing the freezer full.
    That task completed, he watched over her, beginning the most anxious vigil he’d held since the night his entire family had died, one by one.
    As he paced the spacious bathroom, he couldn’t take his gaze off her. Though Daniela had found him skeevy for remarking on her looks, he could see past her injuries. She was lovely, no doubt of it.
    She had long flaxen hair, spreading past her shoulders and down to cover her breasts. Her lips were softly plump, parted around her shallow breaths. Lush lips. He imagined pressing his own over them, then teasing her tongue with his.
    With a start, he realized he was growing hard for her. He groaned. My first erection in three hundred years . The erection he’d been hoping to avoid. Christ, I am truly blooded?
    By a . . . Valkyrie.
    They were warlike, many rumored to be half crazed. To be tied forever to a woman like that—and one he could never touch? A living hell .
    No, surely there had to be a way for him to touch her, to claim her. Or would this one leave him in agony as Myst had Nikolai?
    He crossed to the tub, crouching beside her, his injured leg screaming in protest. Ignoring that wound, he took her hand in his gloved ones, examining it. So delicate. But he’d seen her fragile-looking claws slash through a male’s bone this night.
    He released her hand to cup icy water and pour it over her hair, smoothing blood from the strands. Then he clumsily unthreaded her braids and rinsed them.
    Why this care? Because it kept his mind off his fear for her—and his apprehension about his future. So he continued to run ice over the bruises on her shoulders and arms. Gradually, the hectic red of her face diminished, leaving pale, alabaster skin. Her breaths started to