“Yes…” Trailing off, his frown smooths. He looks younger and less troubled, the sight twisting my stomach, as I have the impulse to lay in his arms.
Conflicted, I stare at his sleeping form as the gun trembles in my hand. This is the same man who let my friends die in cold blood, who didn’t bat an eyelid. I can’t let myself forget, but I struggle to see how that man is the same man asleep before me now. He seems so…broken.
This is my chance to get out of here. Maybe even my only chance, so why can’t I bring myself to pull the trigger?
Placing the gun back down, I climb off the couch to grab him a blanket.
Ipride myself on staying in control at all times and have worked hard over the years to stay on top.
To be the best.
Brutal.
Ruthless.
Yet Cecilia van der Meer waltzes into my life with her long, shapely legs and fiery attitude and turns it upside down without trying.
At first, I sense a dull ache behind my temples, and then a bright sunbeam streams through a gap in the curtains and hits me straight in the face. I groan as I shield my eyes with my hand. How much did I have to drink last night? Enough to sink a ship of sailors, it would seem.
Jeez. I lower my hand but immediately regret it when I’m blinded by the morning sun.
Great, I never made it to bed last night. When was the last time I slept on the couch? It was so long ago that I can’t recall.
I rub my eyes, wincing at the insistent throb in my skull.
I can barely remember the previous night. A nightmare woke me, and I went to see Cecilia’s father before deciding to dull the pain with enough whiskey to shut down my kidneys.
My thoughts grind to a halt when I become aware of soft breaths against the crook of my neck, and I lower my hand.
What the hell? Cecilia is curled up beside me with her head on my shoulder and her fingers on my chest, above my heart.
I swallow around a thick lump in my throat, not daring to move as my heart begins to pound. What is she doing here? More importantly, why is she cuddled up with me?
My first instinct is to extract myself from her, but something stops me. Maybe it’s the sensation of her breaths against my skin or the way my heart hammers beneath her fingers, almost as if it’s chasing her touch.
I wet my lips nervously and shift my head to look at her.
A tendril of blonde hair threatens to escape from behind her ear, and dark lashes fan her cheeks.She looks peaceful. Or maybe I like to believe she feels safe beside me.
My gaze shifts between her long lashes and slightly parted plump lips. I’ve kissed her before, but those kisses were aggressive and dominant. Now, as her eyes move beneath her lids, I wonder how it would feel to savor her kiss and those pillowy lips that look so soft.
To taste her shaky breaths and make her fall apart with a kiss alone.
I lean in slowly to avoid waking her, wetting my lips in anticipation. Just as I’m about to taste her, her eyes flutter open and widen. She shoves away from me like her ass is on fire, tumbling off the couch with a loud thud and a startled yelp.
Flustered, she pops back up, brushing hair away from her face. “Good morning,” she says, standing and looking around as if she can’t remember falling asleep on the couch. Her gazereturns to me, and she attempts an awkward smile. “I, uh…” She glances past me to the door. “I should go.”
I turn my head as she scurries away, eager to escape, and just before she exits the room, I call her name, causing her to skid to a stop. I choose to ignore the pounding headache for now as I rise from the couch, and Cecilia stiffens when I approach her from behind.
Although she has always been careful to keep her guard raised around me, this is different—almost as if I caught her with it lowered, and something about that pulls me forward.
“Did I say something last night?” I ask as she touches her chin to her shoulder to gauge where I am. I’m close enough to cloak her in my heat without us touching.
“Say something?”
Did I confess to keeping your father locked up in the cellar?
No, I couldn’t have told her. Cecilia would have murdered me in my sleep if I’d revealed that tidbit of information.
