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The unfamiliar comforts provided by Raúl lulled me deeper into relaxation. I realized that his rich, earthy scent clung to the shirt, and I breathed him in greedily. My eyes slid closed on a low moan. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d felt this secure, and the release from unrelenting, fearful vigilance was a heady rush.
A sharp knock on the bathroom door jerked me from my blissed-out state. “Marisol.” His deep voice rumbled through the wooden barrier, somehow managing to caress my skin.
I floated to the door and turned the knob as though in a dream. Even the sight of his muscular frame looming directly in front of me didn’t rouse a spark of concern.
His luminous eyes flared, and they traced the curves of my body in a slow, hungry perusal. His attention fixed on my breasts, and his jaw sharpened. I could feel my nipples peaking against the soft fabric of his deliciously scented shirt, but I couldn’t bring myself to cover myself in a shy show of modesty. I was too tired to bother, and the decadent slide of cotton over my sensitized nipples felt nice; a low, pleasurable buzz.
After several long seconds, his mesmerizing gaze lifted to my face. Whatever he saw in my eyes made his mouth drop in a small frown, puckering the scar on his upper lip.
“Let’s get you in bed.” He extended one of his huge hands, and I placed my much smaller one in his palm without hesitation. His thick fingers wrapped around mine in a firm, warm grip that reassured me. He was strong enough to protect me, but he wouldn’t turn that strength on me.
My feet dragged across the plush, cream carpet, my exhaustion wrapping leaden chains around my ankles. Dimly, I noted that his bedding was the same tone as it was in his room at Stefano’s: sleek, steel gray. I’d thought the color impersonal, but it matched the harsh masculinity of the rest of his home. As did the black iron bedposts, which were blocky and imposing. The overall effect was rigid, but the severe style suited him.
I didn’t care how imposing or potentially intimidating Raúl’s bed was; all I cared about was that soft mattress and the massive pile of plump pillows.
By the time we reached the bed, Raúl simply picked me up and placed me on the silky sheets. The thick duvet he draped over my body enfolded me like a warm cloud, and my eyes slid closed as a contented sigh hummed through my lips.
I was dimly aware of the mattress shifting beneath me, followed by Raúl’s hard chest pressing against my back. His corded arm hooked around my middle, and he nestled my body into his. The simple intimacy of human touch seeped into my skin like a calming drug, and I fell into sleep without a single niggling doubt about Raúl’s presence in bed beside me.
Chapter 10
Marisol
I watched Raúl move around his huge kitchen, while I remained cocooned in a somewhat surreal state of mind. Everything from the overwhelming luxury of the space to the fact that my huge, scary captor was preparing breakfast for me was too bizarre to be real.
The gleaming stainless-steel appliances, frosted glass cabinets, and stark white marble countertops gave the impression that a professional chef lived here. But Raúl barely seemed to know how to scramble an egg, judging by the acrid burning scent that permeated the air between us.
I leaned over the kitchen island, propping one hand beneath my chin to observe the strange scene playing out before me. My other hand idly brushed over my skirt, my fingers tracing the little dots of textured cotton on the pretty coral sundress. It had arrived for me this morning, along with dozens of other gorgeous clothing options. I’d never had such an expansive wardrobe in my life, and Raúl’s casual offering of so many fine things only heightened the dreamlike quality of my situation.
Indulging myself in the fantastical scenario, I openly studied my brooding, beautiful captor. With his bulging muscles and fierce frown, Raúl was intimidating even when he was cracking an egg. His sensual lips seemed to caress even the most colorful curses, which were dropping from his tongue in a steady, frustrated stream.
I ogled him for several minutes before his attention finally fixed on me. He paused for a moment, two steaming plates filling his massive hands. His green eyes glowed, and his nostrils flared.
My cheeks heated, but I simply blinked at him, maintaining a casual bearing. Now that he’d fixed that burning gaze on me again, my situation began to feel far more real. How long had I been shamelessly staring at him?
I tried to keep my features blandly innocent. He didn’t know I’d been watching, did he?
Because if this was reality, it was beyond embarrassing that I’d been gawking at my powerful captor.
