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‘Lykos—’
‘Migraine.’
Pain arced across his features as if even that word had come at a price. Closing the door to the taxi, she slid beneath his arm so that she was able to support him. He looked down at her as if unsettled by her presence, but his gaze was so unfocused she knew he was in no position to argue. Benito held open the door for them and helped Marit up to the suite with Lykos, sliding the room key over the pad for her as she took more of Lykos’s weight than he would ever have been comfortable with.
Benito waved off her thanks and retreated back into the hotel as Marit made her way to the bedroom in a suite that was the mirror image of her own. She backed them onto the edge of the bed and when Lykos was safely sitting she went immediately to draw the curtains across the windows, where the early afternoon’s sun stretched rays out towards them.
There was enough glow from the light of the living room that she could see Lykos’s outline but not so much that it caused him more pain. He tugged at the buttons on the shirt as he kicked off his shoes, Marit clenching her jaw seeing the pain even this seemed to cause him. She’d never had a migraine, but the headaches she had during her period always left her shaken. And that was what Lykos looked.Shaken.His face had lost that natural bronze of his tan, a slight greyness beneath the sheen of sweat that looked cold against his forehead. She went to him, kneeling on the floor, pulling his hand gently back from where he was struggling with his cufflinks.
‘Ridiculous,’ he managed.
‘It’s okay,’ she soothed, slipping the cufflink through the hole and placing it on the floor beside her as if her skin wasn’t covered with a thousand pinpricks. She looked up to meet the silvery gaze that found focus on her face and forced herself not to react to the wildfire that burned outwards from her heart to her chest, her legs, her body. His eyes flickered across her as if sensing it, as if tracing the burn patterns he’d caused across her skin, before closing his eyes as if disgusted with himself. For the vulnerability she had seen in him or for the desire he had seen in her, Marit couldn’t tell.
Biting back the sting of such obvious rejection, she reached for his other cuff and removed the silver link. As Lykos sat unmoving she inhaled and, making her breath so silent as to not provoke him, she raised onto her knees and reached for the buttons on his shirt. She saw the flare of the muscle at his jaw, as if he was forcing himself still. Or maybe he was simply warding off the migraine. In that moment Marit would have given half of Svardia to know. Because then it would mean she wasn’t alone in this crazy thing. The thing that had taken over her pulse and her breathing, that trembled beneath her skin wanting to get out, wanting to bring something in. Wantinghim.
She slipped the button from its hole, anchoring her bottom lip with her teeth at the sight of the dark swirls of hair, her fingers trembling a little as they moved to free the next button. And the next. She was halfway down his torso when he moved, his chest filling with air and expanding beneath her hands. He leaned side to side, wincing in pain as he lifted the bottom of the shirt from the belted waist of his trousers and exhaled in sufferance. But when his eyes opened, the slice of silver that caught her was molten and fierce. As if she’d woken a slumbering dragon. She paused, caught in an act of theft, having selfishly stolen this moment for herself, only able to breathe when he closed his eyes again. Resisting the urge to shake the tingles that sparked from where her palms had pressed against his body, she slowly slipped the last button from its hole. Swallowing, she turned her face away from the strip of nakedness that tempted her beyond anything she’d ever experienced.
Logically the next step would be his belt and trousers, and the thought burned her cheeks with red slashes. Fingers shaking, she went to reach for his belt and suddenly her hands were caught in a powerful vice. She looked up to find Lykos’s eyes clear and full of intent.
‘Go.’
She took a breath.
‘Now.’
She didn’t need to be told twice.
Lykos took stock before he opened his eyes. The pounding in his head was gone and, gently turning from side to side, the severe pain cording his neck with tension had dissipated to almost nothing. He checked the clock and marvelled that he’d slept through the night all the way to seven in the morning.
By now, Lykos knew the drill. Every few months, the sleeplessness he’d experienced ever since he was a child would catch up with him and he’d have an episode. If he’d been able to return Marit to Svardia she wouldn’t have been witness to his weakness. Frustration as much as determination forced him to open his eyes.
Marit. Milan. Cufflinks.Christé mou, his belt.
Go. Now.
The look in her eyes as she’d fled the room. The look in her eyesbeforeshe’d fled the room.
Thank God he hadn’t been so out of it last night that he’d reached for all the comfort she was offering, consciously or otherwise. And, just like that, the fantasy of crushing her to him, seeking comfort, an orgasm blowing the migraine from his body... He groaned as need shaped him, hardened him with an arousal that would never be satiated.
He couldn’t touch her. She was a princess. She was aninnocentprincess he was charged with protecting. He’d given Aleksander his word and nothing, not even an increasingly urgent desire for her, would stop him from honouring that. Because if he didn’t keep his word, all the money in the world wouldn’t make him different to his father, or to Kyros. He’d be just like them. Men who betrayed their families, men who betrayedthemselves. The thought alone was enough to douse the fire in him and force him to the en suite bathroom and beneath the powerful, frigid jets of water in the shower.
He emerged fifteen minutes later, dressed and about to go looking for Marit, when he heard voices out on the balcony.Hisbalcony. He took in the strange angle of the pillow and the hotel quilt and realised that Marit must have slept on the sofa. That she’d stayed, even after his harsh order for her to leave... She’d stayed because of her concern for him. That realisation twisted something deep in his gut.
But,Theé mou, if he’d known she was within reach...
And, just like that, all the ice-cold shower’s good work was undone in seconds. He bit back a curse. Even as a teenager he didn’t think he’d been this driven by his hormones. Forcing his body back under control, he made his way out onto the balcony, squinting slightly at the early-morning sun with still-sensitive eyes.
Marit had turned towards the Milan cityscape but Benito greeted him with a small deferential bow, which Lykos immediately waved off.
‘I brought Miss Marit some breakfast and coffee. There is fresh fruit, but if you would like something more—’
‘Grazie, Benito. This is more than fine,’ he said, standing by the table. Marit flashed Benito a radiant smile as he left, and returned her gaze to the horizon.
Lykos hovered. Why, he didn’t quite know. He wasn’t accustomed to hovering, but Marit had this effect on him and he didn’t like it one bit.
‘About last night—’
‘There is nothing to say,’ she replied, finally turning to look at him, squinting up into the morning sun.
