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Draven froze.
“I'm sorry...” I started to say, embarrassed.
He raised his head and looked at me. His eyes were blazing in a way I had never seen before. Not with sorrow or fury now, but with something very much like desire.
Heat suffused my cheeks, flooding down my chest, filling every part of me with red hot fire.
Before I could stop him, he leaned his head forward, dipping his lips down towards me. The Three help me, but I didn’t move a muscle. Didn’t cower. Didn’t back away.
“We should go to sleep.” He released my hands and slid back, rising from where he had been seated on my side of the bed. “I just got back. You were screaming when I came in.”
I looked at him in confusion. He was already crossing over to his side of the bed.
Suddenly the distance from my side to his seemed too great.
I watched in silence as he stripped off his jacket, shirt, and boots, then started unbuckling his trousers.
He glanced up at me as he slid the belt from its loops. But I wouldn’t look away.
The merest hint of a smile lurked at the corners of his lips as he dropped the belt on the floor.
I tried not to react as he slowly unfastened the buttons of his trousers one by one, then slid them off his long muscular legs.
His body glistened with a faint sheen of perspiration. Had he just returned from the training room? Had he been there all this time?
I thought of what he had done to Avriel. The brutality he had so easily displayed.
Still, my own strange desire was not abated. If anything, it was heightened.
Black undergarments clung to his form, accentuating his physique and leaving little to my imagination.
I felt as if I were spying again. Seeing something which I had no right to see.
And yet, were we not sharing his bedchamber? I hadn't asked Draven to take off his clothes.
No, I was merely an innocent bystander enjoying the view. And refusing to look modestly away.
Was there really anything so very wrong with that?
He slid under the coverlet and turned onto his side, his back to me.
I tried not to let out a sigh of disappointment.
With as much aplomb as I could muster, I leaned back against the pillows, my heart racing, my skin afire.
Had Kairos Draven almost kissed me?
Had it just all been an elaborate practice run for when I was finally allowed out of this chamber and he had to pretend I was really his lover? That was probably it. And then he had gotten cold feet. Perhaps the idea of kissing me was too disgusting to bear. Even as a pretense.
That thought was enough to drench the flames from my skin. I pulled the coverlet up under my chin and turned over to face the bed table beside me.
“Morgan?” Draven’s voice was soft and sleepy.
“Mmm?”
“If you have another nightmare, just remember... I’m right here. Nothing can happen to you. You’re safe.”
Safety was an illusion and he of all people must know that.
