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“And now I know you! I knowwhyyou do the things you do. I know you will kill for anyone you love, and I know you would die for them too. I know your father was a monster, and though you may be mistaken as one on a regular basis, that doesn’t make it true.”
“So… Iamredeemable?” I stop and flash a playful grin. “Is this your way of telling me you caught feelings? Because sam?—”
“Felix!” she snaps, throwing her hands up in exasperation and rage. “Stop trying to be cute, and listen to me. This isn’t about jealousy or feelings or redemption, and it’s not about your father and the horrible things he did to innocent people. This is about you. And it’s about her.”
“Savvy? The woman you’renotjealous of?”
She spins in place, a savage roar rolling along her throat, then she grabs the nearest thing she can touch—her phone—and lobs it across the room until it slams against my chest and bounces off to clatter to thefloor. “You are obsessed with annoying me! And you ignore the very real possibility that your friends aren’t necessarily your friends. She’s bad for you.” Stalking forward, Christabelle’s eyes blister with an intensity that surrounds my heart.
She intends to burn me, but all she does is warm me. She means to hurt me, when really, she’s trying to shield me.
And no matter howoffshe is in her target, protection is a language I speak.
“Savannah Towers doesn’t hold affection for you the way you do her.” She comes to stop at the end of the bed and pleads, “I’m not stupid, Felix. I know what your father did to her. And I know she was your guest first, which means you considered her your responsibility.”
“Shewasmy responsibility.” I push away from the headboard and inch closer to the woman who would go to war with me.
Forme.
And fuck, but that means something.
“She was a child, Christabelle.” I set my feet on the floor at the end of the bed, and take her hands before she can escape. “She was my guest. So the bad things that happened to her happenedbecause ofme.”
“You were a child too! And the bad man you were trying to save her from was your father. You couldn’t stand up to him! The things that happened to her were horrible and tragic?—”
“Yes,” I agree. “They were.”
“But they weren’t your fault.” She steps between my legs and cups my cheeks in her hands. “It is not your job to coddle her now like she’s still that child. She is a grown woman… whose intentions arenotin your favor.”
“How can you know what her intentions are?” I wrap my arms around her hips and turn my head to kiss her wrist. “You met her for five minutes. You have no clue who she is in her heart. Just like you didn’t know me.”
Her eyes shimmer, and her lips quiver. But all she does is stare.
Stare.
Hold my face and stare.
“I just know,” she rasps finally, her voice crackling on the last word. “She’s not your friend, Felix. And I hope you hear me when I say that.”Bending, she presses a gentle kiss to the middle of my lips. “My concern does not come from jealousy, I swear.”
“She won’t be a problem for you.” I twist on the bed and drag her supple body around until she flops to the mattress with a startled squeal. Then I peel her shirt—myshirt—along her torso to reveal her bare nipples, peaked and perfect.
“You never have to see her again.” I wrap my lips around the pebbled tips and draw a moan from deep in her chest. “I’ll make sure of it.”
I unsnap the button of her jeans and slide my hand inside to find her already wet. Already waiting.
“Now pay attention to me, beautiful. When we’re in this room, it’s just me and you.” I bite down on her nipple and quiver when her back arches. “We don’t invite anyone else in here.”
Iwake around six, knowing without even looking that I’m all alone. My bed is empty but for me, and the woman who has a clamp around my heart is gone.
I feel her absence just as surely as I typically feel her presence.
I glance around my room in the almost-darkness as sunrise peeks through the curtains, and drag my arm across the other side of my bed, just in case my instincts are wrong and she’s simply sleeping. But I find the other side unoccupied. The sheets cold. I don’t smell her perfect aroma of sweet flowers, nor the shampoo she’s been using in my shower. I don’t hear her soft breathing, and I don’t feel her long hair, tickling my skin.
Pulling a deep breath into my lungs and filling them till it hurts, I release it again and push up to sit. “Stovic?”
I call out a name, any name, and watch my door as it opens almost instantly, light spilling in from the hall.
“Michaels, sir.”
