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This should feel more unnerving than it does. Me and him alone in this room but he’s acting neutral, professional almost and it makes it feel a lot less unsettling. Looking into his eyes because I don’t know where else to look, I crawl into bed and he pulls the cover over me.
His fingers brush along my collarbone and I shiver. Mostly because it feels good...more than good. He looks down at me for a short moment and then he stiffens. His body goes so rigid that it feels like he’s been frozen in time.
Letting out a soft sound of surprise, I turn my face down and I notice what he’s looking at. He’s pulled away the collar of my nightgown, his eyes staring at my scar. It seems even redder than usual, like it’s trying to mock him and his eyes turn into blizzard.
Something dangerous seems to emanate off of him and I hold down a whimper. His one fist is clenched but the hand close to the scar is gentle.
“H...Husband?” I say, trying to get his attention, trying to distract him from whatever emotions he’s feeling and he sharply pulls away from me before going over to the windows. He closes the curtains and if it wasn’t for the bed light, the room would be pitch black.
My eyes follow him as he walks back to me but he’s not really the kind who walks. He prowls and somehow he also thunders. His physique is the kind old warriors would have in the past but his eyes are smart. Cunning. And desolate.
Fittingly, I hear the howl of a wolf in the far distance and I clutch my cover with my hands.
“Good night, then,” I murmur, expecting him to leave because he has tucked me in but he doesn’t. Instead he sits down on the bed, right next to my legs and I stiffen. What is he doing now? Sinking against the cushions I ask, “Aren’t you going to leave and let me rest?”
He slowly shakes his head. “I’ll stay with you until you fall asleep.”
“W...why? I’m not afraid of the dark.”
“I am,” he says and my eyes flare in surprise, “I fear any monsters who could take you away from me.”
I look at him in genuine surprise. “But you abducted me in plain sight,” I whisper. “Doesn’t that make you the monster?”
His eyes flash, his hand shooting out, making me gasp and he clasps my chin between his fingers, not hard but firm enough to let me know he means business.
“Never. Ever. Call. Me. That.” There’s an intimidating stirring in his eyes and he’s stopped breathing like he’s furious about something but is trying to suppress his fury.
What did I say that was so bad? I called him a monster. I could have called him adozenworse things than that. But for some reason, the wordmonsterseems to be triggering to him.
With a sharp look at me he lets go of my chin and I lick my lips. I slowly try to relax again, trying to make myself comfortable because it doesn’t seem like he’ll be leaving anytime soon.
Gulping, I lay my arms on top of the cover because I’m getting too warm and his gaze goes to my wrist. Just like that, the fury that was in him earlier evaporates. I flush when I notice what he’s looking at, embarrassment blushing in me because most people don’t notice.
They don’t notice that there’s a slight change in skin color, in texture. That it’s going from pale and flat to slightly red and raised and has the shape of a circle. My gaze carefully goes to Husband’s and I drag a breath at the look in his eyes.
They’re full of tenderness, rawness and warmth. His eyes practically bruise me on the inside and then there’s a slight smile lingering around his mouth. It makes him look soft, gentle and harmless. It makes him look like the kind of man who’s hands a girl could put her whole life in and know that it would be well taken care of.
I seem to have stopped breathing when he leans his cheek against my wrist, his eyes closing and he looks so peaceful. His slight stubble brushes against my skin, his fingers firm and warm as he’s holding me and I feel a flood of heat between my legs. It makes me squirm and it chafes me.
He might be keeping me hostage but my body wants him. All of him and I feel a slash of shamefulness when I realize how safe I suddenly feel, which is so bizarre that it makes my mind swirl in confusion.
I didn’t feel this safe with Jess and Katie. Didn’t feel this safe in a bar surrounded by people who were just looking for a good time but I feel safe locked up in a mansion, in an unfamiliar town with my captor who claims that he will never let me go unless I guess his name.
There has to be something wrong with me. Maybe I bumped my head really hard when I blacked out in the alley. Glancing at Husband, he slowly gives me my wrist back and he does it with veneration as if he’s returning a gift he was only allowed to borrow for a short while and he strokes my temple with his knuckles.
It makes my lids flutter and suddenly I realize how tired I am and he turns off the light.
“Sleep,” he says in a low, lullaby voice. “Sleep.”
****
Cracking an eye open, I stare up at the white ceiling. I had a great night of rest, felt like a sleeping princess the whole time. The curtains are still drawn but some light is seeping into the bedroom. Husband isn’t here. He must’ve gone to sleep in his own room.
Maybe he’s still sleeping?
I feel a blaze of excitement at the thought ofhimvulnerable for once and not me. Lifting my head, I prepare to get out of bed when I realize that I can’t. I can’t get up. My one hand is stuck and I’m not going anywhere. I’ve been cuffed.
He cuffed me...
