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“Em, please say something...I need to know…”
She wiped a lone tear. “What you remember happened. I didn’t mean to touch you...I came out of the bathroom with a wet cloth and you’d gotten, um, naked.” She looked away. “You’d climbed onto the bed...and I’m not sure whether you were dreaming or not, but you looked in pain.” She glanced at his groin.
He groaned and met her startled gaze. “This is so inappropriate and it happens all the time when we’re together.” Not only was his erection embarrassing, it was wrong, but he couldn’t bring himself to apologize.
Emelia glanced at his groin again before her gaze lifted to his. “It’s no secret as to how I feel about you, Dante. And I should feel guilty for taking advantage of you, but I can’t. I wanted to feel you under my hands and then when you, um...at the end, I craved to touch you.”
She killed him with her confession, so he confessed, “I wake nightly remembering, but what I can’t remember, and long to, is whether it went any further.” He watched her tense, and then sighed.
Emelia wet her lips and admitted, “You wrapped me up in your arms and pinned me beneath you,” she offered a watery smile, “but you passed out cold.”
He sighed in relief, content to know he hadn’t broken the most sacred of vows, but conflicted over his desire and need to be with her. This was his half-sister. His father’s daughter. He knew it was all kinds of wrong, but, God forgive him, he still craved her.
“I wish you hadn’t fallen asleep, Dante,” she whispered. “I wish you’d have made love to me so that I would have known what it was truly like to be with you,” she admitted.
The honesty in her eyes destroyed his heart. He knew how she felt, and he had a feeling that if they’d made love, he would have remembered it, regardless of how drunk he’d been.
Their situation couldn’t go on…
“As much as it kills something inside of me, you have to live your life, Emelia. You have to.”
“You’re the only one I’ll ever want, and if I can’t be with you, then I don’t want to be with someone else.”
“What about the friend of Diego’s?” he asked, his fists clenched tight.
“He’s okay, but he isn’t the one that I want...how long are you staying for?”
He let the change of subject go because, if he didn’t, he wasn’t sure what would come out of his mouth, so he replied, “A couple of days.”
Emelia stood. “We need to talk again before you leave. There’s something that you need to know, but I need to talk to my mom first.”
He frowned, wondering what he needed to know, and agreed, “We can talk. We can always talk, Emelia.”
She nodded and wiped her tears with a Kleenex before she started to make her way past him.
Dante reached out and took her hand with his. She didn’t turn to him, but waited, so he said quietly, “Thank you for telling me.” When she still didn’t look at him, Dante stood close behind her and buried his face in her long curls. He inhaled as Emelia caught her breath.
I’m glad that I didn’t make love to you, because if that happened, I would have wanted to remember every single minute of it.
“You better go.”
“I know...but you need to let go of me if you want me to leave.”
He closed his eyes, inhaled her again to pull her scent into his lungs, and finally released her hand.
Emelia hesitated before she left him standing in his room while she closed the door behind her.
He had no clue how long he stood in the middle of his room, but the dampness on his face caused a hand to lift to wipe at it. He moved his hand away and looked at the wetness that coated his fingers, and that’s when he realized that he was crying.
His feet moved and then he was in the bathroom, staring at his reflection in the mirror.
Reaching out, he turned the faucet on and splashed his face with cold water before he grabbed a towel and dried off.
As he glanced at his reflection in the mirror, he looked sick, or at least like someone who had a lot on his mind.
Chapter Seventeen
“Eric,” Emelia shouted the minute she’d spotted her brother heading in the opposite direction.
