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Her heart ached for him.
“I’m not drunk.”
“It’s okay if you are.”
“If you want to sleep, I’ll leave.”
“No, stay.”
He watched her from his great height, his brows strung together as if he was trying to solve the mystery of her.
With a soft sigh, he sat down by her side on the bed, his long legs thrown in front of him. For long seconds, he stayed like that, his head buried in his hands.
Anya turned to her side and pressed her hand to the outside of his thigh.
After a few more minutes, he took her hand in his and kissed it with such reverence that she felt heat pricking her eyes.
Scooting closer to her on the bed, he ran a thumb around her eyes. Her nose. Her mouth. The hollows under her cheeks. “Did you catch any sleep at all?”
She shrugged. “We watched a movie until midnight, then she slept. I left a note saying that I’d see her in a couple of hours.”
Using his hand as leverage, she pushed up until she was leaning against the headboard. When she pulled, he came closer until he was sitting next to her and she could lean her head on his shoulder. Holding his hand close to her chest, Anya started talking. “She’ll be okay, Simon. The fact that I pestered her so much over the past week about the interview I was able to point out that they weave all kind of nasty lies from half truths.”
“Thank you,” Simon murmured without turning back to look at her. He was staring at a picture of Rani and Meera on the nightstand that the young girl had pulled out of her backpack only three days ago to show Anya.
“Stay with me,” she said, sensing his retreat again. Sensing the dark pain from earlier gathering into a cloud about him again. “I wasn’t feeling well to begin with this morning. If you leave me now—”
That got him to move like nothing else had. Turning toward her until his broad chest and his handsome face filled her entire field of vision, he said, “What happened?”
“Probably just anemic again. I’ll see my doctor soon.” Her heart thudded at her daring but Anya made the demand anyway. “Right now, all I need is you. Get ready for bed.”
Other than the languid curve of his mouth twitching, he didn’t point out her demanding tone. When he started to pull off his V-necked T-shirt, relief swept through her. She shivered as he gathered her hair into one hand and lifted it. Then his warm mouth was on the nape of her neck, his stubbled jaw rasping against her skin. She jerked when he gently bit her there.
“Have you been anemic before?”
“On and off since I gave birth,” she replied in a hoarse whisper.
He nuzzled into her shoulder blades and spoke so softly that she almost didn’t hear him. “This is the last thing I want to hear right now.”
Anya blinked. Worry lines around his eyes deepened. “What...what do you mean?”
A huge sigh pressed his chest to her back. “I’ve got too many things on my mind already. I don’t want to worry about you too.”
It was almost as if he was talking to himself than Anya. But it only pushed at the roiling pot of her own emotions. “I’m capable of looking after myself,” she pointed out, stiffening in his arms. Had he any idea how hard every word of his landed on her? “I’ve done it for almost a decade and a half now, Simon. Even with two brothers who think they know better than I do.”
Glancing down at her, he frowned. “It’s not a reflection on your abilities, Angel.”
“No?” she said, challenging him.
“No. I... I used to think you were fragile but I was wrong,” he murmured.
“I can be both fragile and fierce, Simon. Believe me, one doesn’t negate the other.”
He dropped a hard, long kiss on her lips. “I know that.” His right hand moved from her neck to her belly and then his fingers played with the hem of her T-shirt in a motion that only served to inflame her senses. “This needs to come off.”
Swallowing down the thick desire in her throat, Anya murmured yes. She loved it when he got demanding like that. When he shed his laid-back, easygoing layer and took what he needed from her. When he let the guilt and whatever else gripped him go and immersed himself in this, in her.
It was strange how she’d gotten so used to doing the most sexual things with him, but this...this raw demand in his voice, the small intimacies he demanded of her—like always wanting skin to skin when they went to bed, making her spell out exactly what she wanted him to do, making her give voice to the darkest fantasies she’d never thought she’d want—made her heart beat faster as much as anything else.
