Page 43 of Deadly Misfortunes

It had something to do with Damon. But what? Should he let her sleep in a guest room as she’d said? No, he had to find out all he could about the woman who tantalized his very soul. If she slept in the room next to his, he would never get any sleep.

Her glassy eyes shimmered with tears on the brink of overflowing. The notion tore at his heart. If she broke down, he would be at a total loss as to what to do. He wrapped his arms around her and gave her a warm embrace. She sniffled.

The dam would break.

He was afraid to ask what was wrong. He was certain anything he did or said, or didn’t do or didn’t say, would bring on the flood.

She reached up and ran her hand over his chest in a tender caress to his surprise. The woman utterly mystified him.

He ran his fingers through her silky, curly strands of red hair. Trying to keep his mind on anything other than the tightening of his shorts. He leaned over and kissed her forehead. That didn’t help either.

Everywhere she touched sent a twinge of energy into his boxers. For a second, she considered his chest as she traced the contours of his muscles, then leaned over and kissed it. He closed his eyes. He promised he would behave himself, but she wasn’t helping him to keep his promise.

He wanted Sascha to show him what she wanted. He wouldn’t push her one bit. Certain her love life was in a total shambles, he’d hoped maybe he could show her the kind of tenderness she deserved. Whatever Damon had done to her, he was certain he could show her how sensitive a man he could be.

Then he would have words with Damon… and knock the crap out of him if he found he’d been emotionally or physically abusive toward her. Yet he had never seen him like that with anyone before, so it didn’t make any sense.

“It wasn’t Damon’s fault,” she said, her words spoken so softly Gregory wasn’t certain she’d said them.

He waited, listening to see if she would say anything more. When she pulled him onto the bed, a spark of interest warmed his whole body. She was still a minx.

He slipped in beside her on the soft mattress, pulled the covers over them, and switched off his lamplight.

She rested her head on his chest and sighed deeply. “Just hold me like we’re one, please.”

Her words were spoken with a sad aura, and he worried the tears had returned. What had Damon done to her to cause her to be so afraid of a sexual encounter? That’s what he assumed was the matter anyway. Unless something else had happened. Something worse. Had she been molested?

“No,” she said.

Frowning, he studied her. She couldn’t have heard what he was thinking.

He wrapped his arms around her and held her tight while he kissed the top of her head. The gentle scent of strawberries tickled his nose.

Having her in his arms like this was even better than if he’d had a chance to dance with her, though the idea of her working her legs in between his…

“Sleep; you’re keeping me awake.”

He didn’t understand. He hadn’t spoken a word to her. Did it bother her that he held her too tightly?

She shook her head lightly on his chest. “No, it feels good to be held close like this again. I haven’t allowed it for so long.”

Her words were said so dreamily that he wondered if she were half asleep. But he was afraid to broach the subject. He wanted to know about Damon.

“Later. Quit worrying,” she whispered. Her hand touched his waist, sending a thrill through his system. “Later.”

And then it occurred to him that it truly was as though she had read his thoughts. “Do you know what I’m thinking, Sascha?”

“Shhhh.”

He had to know if she could do such a thing. He envisioned her naked skin as she showered in the bathroom, the water dribbling down her porcelain curves. Her long red curls straightened, dripping over her breasts, and he wanted to know more than anything…what color her nipples were.

She poked his stomach with her finger. “Quit it.”

He tried to sit up in bed, but she pinned him down.

“Sleep, Gregory. I’m tired.”

Relaxing his posture, he furrowed his brow at her. “You can read my thoughts?”