15
I leaned against the bathroom counter, gripping the edge so tightly that my knuckles turned white. My reflection stared back at me, as composed and cold as ever, but inside, I was a storm.
Sharing a room with Lenora had already pushed my self-control to the limit. The flight, the meeting, the way she nervously fiddled with her hands every time I looked at her—it was all too much.
And now, this.
Yesterday I hadn't slept being too distracted to and spent the night smoking at the balcony to notice our arrangements.
I hadn't expected this to be as hard as it was now, and certainly didn't expect the couch to be a useless piece of shit. While Lenora insisting on giving me the bed while she took the couch earlier the couch was too small for me—and even for her. Which left us with no other option.
We'd have to share the bed.
I exhaled slowly, trying to steady myself.
She was out there, already dressed for bed in the most innocent—and maddening—set of pajamas I'd ever seen.
Loose, soft cotton shorts that revealed far too much of her smooth, tan legs, paired with an oversized shirt that hung off one shoulder.
She looked both modest and utterly tempting, completely unaware of the effect she had on me.
I had to get myself under control.
Splashing cold water on my face, I tried to push the darker thoughts out of my mind. She was innocent, untainted by the world I lived in, and the last thing I wanted was to scare her—or worse, ruin her.
But the way she looked at me sometimes, with those mismatched eyes wide and full of trust... it made me want to lock her away from everyone else, to keep her all to myself.
It was possessive, obsessive even, but I couldn't stop it.
Calming myself, I left the bathroom and stepped into the bedroom.
Lenora was already sitting on one side of the bed, her legs tucked under her as she fiddled nervously with the hem of her shirt. She looked up when I entered, offering me a small, hesitant smile.
"I'm sorry about the mix-up," she said softly, her voice like a balm to my frayed nerves.
"It's not your fault," I replied, keeping my tone calm as I walked to the other side of the bed.
It was mine.
She nodded, glancing down at her lap. "If... if it's too uncomfortable, I can still take the sofa. I don't mind—"
"No," I said, perhaps a bit too sharply. Her head snapped up, and I softened my tone. "You'll sleep here. The couch isn't suitable for anyone, least of all you."
Her cheeks turned pink, and she nodded again, whispering, "Okay."
I slipped into the bed, keeping a careful distance between us as I lay on my back and stared at the ceiling. The room was silent except for the faint sound of her breathing, and I was acutely aware of every movement she made.
She shifted slightly, pulling the blanket up to her chin, and the fabric of her shorts rode up her thighs, exposing even more of her bare skin. I clenched my fists under the covers, forcing myself to look away.
"Thank you," she said after a moment, her voice barely audible.
"For what?"
"For... being kind to me."
I turned my head to look at her. She was lying on her side, her mismatched eyes watching me with a mix of gratitude and something else I couldn't quite place.
"You make it sound like it's difficult to be kind to you," I said, my voice softer than I intended.
She shrugged, her gaze dropping. "It just... doesn't happen often."
Something inside me twisted painfully at her words. I wanted to ask her why, to demand answers about her past and who had made her feel so undeserving of kindness. But I held back, knowing this wasn't the time.
Instead, I reached out and gently brushed a strand of hair away from her face. She froze, her eyes widening slightly, but she didn't pull away.
"Go to sleep, Lenora," I murmured, my voice low. "You'll need your rest for tomorrow."
She nodded, her eyes fluttering closed, and I pulled my hand back, clenching it into a fist to keep from touching her again.
Hours passed, and I still couldn't sleep.
Her presence beside me was both soothing and torturous, the soft sound of her breathing a constant reminder of how close she was. I shifted slightly, trying to find a comfortable position, but every time I moved, my arm brushed against her, sending a jolt of heat through me.
She stirred in her sleep, rolling over onto her side and curling into a ball, her knee brushing against my leg.
I froze, my entire body tense.
She was so small, so fragile, and so utterly unaware of the effect she had on me. I wanted to pull her into my arms, to feel the warmth of her body against mine, to own her, to protect her from the world and keep her all to myself.
But I couldn't.
Not yet.
Instead, I closed my eyes and forced myself to focus on my breathing, repeating a silent mantra in my head.Not yet. Not yet. Not yet.
Because when the time came—when she was ready—there would be no holding back. She would be mine, completely and irrevocably, in every sense of the word.
For now, I would wait.
But not forever.
I was about to force myself to close my eyes and try to sleep when I heard it.
"No... no, please..."
My head snapped toward her.
She was still asleep, but her expression had changed. Her brows were drawn together, tears starting to visibly appear from the corner of her eyes, her lips trembling as she whispered the words again, her voice laced with fear.
"No... please... don't..."
She flinched, her hands gripping the sheets tightly, and then she cried out—a broken, raw and desperate sound that tore through me.
She was having a nightmare.
"Lenora," I said sharply, sitting up and reaching for her shoulder.
She didn't wake.
Her head tossed from side to side, her breathing quick and shallow, as if she were trapped in whatever nightmare had hold of her.
"Lenora," I said again, more gently this time, shaking her lightly.
Her eyes flew open, wild and unfocused, and she gasped, sitting up so quickly that she nearly collided with me.
"Hey, it's okay," I said, my voice low and steady as I caught her shoulders, keeping her from retreating. "It's just a dream. You're safe baby."
She blinked rapidly, her chest rising and falling as she tried to catch her breath. Her mismatched eyes—one blue, one green—looked up at me, wide and filled with panic, tears starting to run down.
"I—I'm sorry," she whispered, her voice shaking. "I didn't mean to—"
"Shh stop," I said firmly, cutting her off. "You don't need to apologize." I wiped her tears.
Her hands were trembling, clutching the edge of the blanket like a lifeline, and I hated the fear I saw in her. Whoever had put that look in her eyes, whoever had made her afraid like this—I wanted to destroy them.
I released her shoulders and gently took her hands instead, prying them away from the blanket and holding them between mine.
"You're safe, Lenora," I said again, softer this time. "No one's going to hurt you."
Her lip quivered, and for a moment, I thought she might cry again. But she just nodded, swallowing hard as she tried to steady herself.
"Do you want to talk about it?" I asked, even though I wasn't sure I wanted to hear the answer.
I wasn't sure whether I'd be able to contain my rage.
She shook her head quickly, her hair falling into her face. "No. It's... it's nothing."
It wasn't nothing. But I didn't push. Not yet.
"Okay," I said, letting go of her hands and leaning back slightly. "But if you ever do, you can tell me. Do you understand?"
She nodded again, her eyes flicking to mine briefly before dropping to her lap.
The silence stretched between us, heavy and loaded with things neither of us were saying.
"Do you think you can go back to sleep?" I asked after a moment.
She hesitated, biting her lip. "I don't know."
I sighed, running a hand through my hair. "Come here."
Her head shot up, her eyes wide with surprise. "What?"
"I said come here," I repeated, my tone firm but not unkind.
When she didn't move, I reached out and pulled her gently toward me, guiding her to lie down again. She looked startled but didn't resist as I shifted closer, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and pulling her against my side.
"What are you—"
"Just relax," I interrupted, my voice low and commanding. "You'll sleep better this way. Trust me."
She hesitated for a moment longer before finally resting her head against my chest, her body tense and uncertain.
"You're safe," I murmured again, my hand brushing lightly over her hair in a soothing gesture. "No one's going to hurt you."
Her breathing gradually slowed, her body softening against mine as she started to relax.
And as I lay there, holding her, feeling the steady rhythm of her heartbeat against my chest, I knew two things with absolute certainty.
First, I would do anything to protect her, to keep her safe from whatever demons haunted her.
And second, I was already in far deeper than I'd ever intended.