Chapter 12
Chapter Twelve
Lily crept toward Atlas’s bedroom. She’d slept for an hour. It had been a fitful sleep. Unease kept pulling at her. She’d told Dr. Owen that she would keep an eye on Atlas. She had to check on him.
His door was unlocked. She turned the knob and slipped inside.
Darkness.
His curtains were drawn over the windows. Had to be those heavy, blackout curtains because no light at all drifted into the bedroom. The guest room had been the same way, and that darkness had enveloped her.
But worry had stopped her from sleeping too deeply.
She tiptoed toward the bed. Her eyes had adjusted to the dark, and she could see his heavy form in the middle of the bed, and she—
“Decided not to wait the full forty-eight hours, huh?”
Lily froze. “I was…checking on you.”
“Bad idea, Lily.”
She thought the opposite. A good, responsible idea. “You have a concussion, Atlas.”
“So do you, Lily. That happens when we both get knocked out.”
Hers had not been as bad as his. She knew how to assess her own condition. Besides, imaging had been performed on them both at the hospital. “I am fine. There is no need to be concerned about my welfare.”
“Yeah, whatever. A concussion is a concussion, so don’t bullshit me.”
“There are levels of trauma. All blows to the head are certainly not the same.” Her lips tightened. He was cranky and clearly aware. No confusion from Atlas. “So…you’re okay?”
“No, I am not okay. I’m horny as hell, and I’m about to pounce on you. Go back to your room.”
A sniff. “You don’t have to be rude about it. I was simply trying to look after you.”
“And I’m trying not to fuck you. Go back to your room.”
She turned on her heel. “Remember how you said to scream if I needed you?”
“Lily…”
“Scream if you need me.” She took another step toward the open bedroom door.
“If you’re really worried, you could always just climb into bed with me.”
A shiver skated down her body. “Not sure that’s the best idea.”
“Ah…” The covers shifted. A faint rustle of sound. “Don’t trust yourself with me, hmm?”
Actually, she wasn’t quite sure that she did. “Any blurry vision? Dizziness? Confusion?” A checklist she should have gone over before. But she’d been distracted by the break-in at her place. Her own exhaustion had swept over her and…hell, she’d just been a crappy caregiver for him. Case closed.
“I only see one of you. Granted, you’re cloaked in shadows, but that’s because it’s dark in here. I’m not the least bit dizzy, though I am damn sleepy. As to the confusion, I am perfectly aware. I know what I want. I know what I will have.”
His words seemed to wrap around her. “Sorry I woke you. Just, um, doing my due diligence.” She began to dart through the open doorway.
“I was dreaming about you.”
And just like that, her feet rooted to the spot. “Dreams or nightmares?”
“A dream. The sweetest one. Want to know what you were doing in the dream?”
“I think I can guess.” Fucking you. Coming for you. Making you come. He was such a dangerous man. More dangerous to her than Lily had ever anticipated. She squared her shoulders. “Sorry to disturb you. I’ll see you again in a few hours—”
“You were marrying me.”
Nothing could have shocked her more.
“I hope you have sweet dreams, too, Lily.”
She fled his room. She did leave the door open, though, the better to hear him if he should call out for her. Lily raced back to her guest room and practically jumped into the bed. She still wore her sweatshirt and the sweat pants, her underwear and bra, even her socks. She…
He dreamed about marrying me?
She did not know what in the world to think in response to his dream. Her eyes closed. Her fingers clenched around the covers. Tension held her in a tight, desperate grip even as the darkness of the room settled around her like a lover.
Lover. Atlas would be her lover. She understood that, deep inside. The awareness between them was too absolute. Too consuming. If she didn’t discover what it was like to be with him—fully with him, at least once—well, then she’d be regretting that choice for the rest of her life.
She already had enough regrets. No sense adding another one to the pile.
I won’t ever marry Atlas. But I will fuck him before we are done.
It was the chirping of birds that woke her.
Her eyes opened, slowly, awareness trickling back to her.
Her gaze darted around, eventually falling on the bedside clock.
But when she saw those glowing digits, shock rocked through her.
Nearly four p.m. Wow. Her brain still felt foggy, her body heavy, and it took her a moment—a few moments—to process where she was. And what was happening.
I’m in the guest room. Atlas’s guest room. I hid the diary under the mattress. I’m safe here.
She sat up, frowning. She knew the time because the digits glowed, but the blackout curtains prevented light from filling the room.
Her hand flew out to hit the lamp on the nightstand.
The lamp’s illumination spilled on at her touch, and she spotted the high-end bags waiting at the foot of the bed.
A pang of unease slid through her. She’d slept so deeply that she hadn’t heard anyone enter the room to drop off those bags?
She brushed aside the unease. Got out of bed. She showered in the huge guest bath, enjoying the blasts from the double shower heads. A toiletry supply had been included with her new purchases. Toothpaste. Shampoo. Conditioner. Body lotion. Makeup. Even her favorite brand and shade of lipstick.
Atlas’s way of saying he knew everything about her. Or, at least, a sign showing he knew far too much.
She dressed in new underwear—a black bra and matching, silky panties.
Black pants, flats, and a pale blue top.
The top had long sleeves, and those sleeves hid the bruising on her wrist. Bruising that was now dark and vivid.
Because she still seemed a little too pale and the circles under her eyes hadn’t vanished, she used the makeup quickly like the shield it was, even sliding on a quick swipe of the soft red lipstick.
Her mother had always told her that a bit of red lipstick could be a woman’s best friend.
Then again, poison had actually been her mother’s best friend for years so…
Lily left the guest room. She approached the room next door, lifted her hand, and rapped quickly on the closed door. “Atlas?” His door had been open before.
“Down here, sweets.”
She jerked at the call, then made her way to the balcony that overlooked the lower floor. Because Atlas’s voice had come from below her.
He quirked a brow as he stared up at her.
“Sleeping Beauty finally decided to wake up, huh? Good for you.” He peered at his watch.
“The Feds will be here soon so you woke up just in time. I’m sure they will be bringing local cops with them.
My lawyer is gonna join the party, kind of a nonnegotiable.
Theodora would be pissed if I talked to the Feds without her present. ”
Well, she certainly didn’t want Theodora pissed.
“Just so you know, the authorities want to interview us both, but we are not going to be separated for that interview.”
Her hands curled around the balcony’s railing. “Another nonnegotiable point for you?”
“Absolutely.” His head tilted as he focused on her once again. “If they push on that point, I’ll just explain that I can’t be parted from the love of my life. I’m too distraught over how close we both came to dying.”
The wood was smooth and hard beneath her grip. “The love of your life?” She’d never been called that before. Probably never would be again.
“I’ll inform them that we’d been dating. Casually, of course, before last night.”
“Casually.” A nod. She should not have this conversation while she was upstairs and he was downstairs, so Lily let go of the balcony railing and began to head down to him.
“When you casually date someone,” she inquired, “do you always have security toss them out of your building?” Was that part of his courting ritual?
“Occasionally.” He moved to position his body at the foot of the stairs.
He wore black pants. A crisp, white shirt that he’d rolled up to the elbows.
He’d left the top two—maybe three—buttons undone on the shirt.
No shadows under his eyes. His blue eyes appeared extra electric.
His skin tan, golden, not pale. His hair was combed back, thick and lustrous, and his chiseled jaw had been cleanly shaven.
There was no sign of tiredness or pain or—well, any issues at all.
No one would ever have looked at him and thought the man had been kidnapped and nearly murdered the night before.
Her steps faltered as she gazed into his eyes. His stare had heated even more as she approached him, and there was no denying the lust she could see staring back at her.
“Pleasant dreams?” he asked politely.
“I don’t remember them.” Total lie. She remembered them perfectly.
She’d woken from one nightmare with her heart racing and sweat covering her body.
Lily had leapt from the bed and rushed to his still open doorway.
My second visit to his room. She’d peeked inside, terrified that he’d be just as he had been in her nightmare.
Dead. Covered in so much blood. And his stomach slashed open—
But he’d been sleeping. His breathing slow and steady, so she’d slipped out of his room without a word and gone back to sleep.
That was the second time I checked on him. I didn’t want to wake him that time. I ran away. I—
“Really?” One dark eyebrow quirked. “Not even the nightmare that sent you running to me?”
Her breath caught. “You were awake?”
An incline of his head. “The floorboard right outside my door creaks. I heard you when you stepped on it.”
He must have very good hearing.