Chapter 38

Hazel eyes opened and stared up into mine, but Quinn wasn’t seeing me. “Non!” His voice was hoarse, filled with pain. “Non! Il ne peut pas être mort! Qu’avez-vous fait?”

Automatically, I translated the words. No! He can’t be dead! What have you done?

His accent was flawless. Of course. His first male lover had been French, and what better way to learn a language than in bed? Although knowing Mann, he was probably pretty damned fluent even before that bozo.

I brushed the hair off his forehead, which was cool and clammy with sweat, then pulled him up against me. “I’m here, Quinn; I’ve got you.”

His body stiffened, but I just held on, absorbing the tremors that rippled through him.

“It’s okay, baby. It’s okay.” What nightmare world was he trapped in?

“Mark?” My name whispered past his lips. He stopped struggling and sagged against me.

“You were expecting someone else?”

“No.” He brought his arms around me and dug his fingers into my back.