Chapter Five
Elena
I can’t sleep.
The room is cloaked in darkness, the only light filtering in is from the silver moon peeking through the blinds. The sheets feel cool against my skin, and everything is set just right to ensure my comfort, but…
I still can’t sleep!
I stare at the ceiling, trying and failing to stop recreating the events of the day.
This is not how I imagined the day would play out.
That I would end up in my bodyguard’s home, safe in the guest room with only a single wall separating us.
The room, the T-shirt, these sheets, and everything in this whole apartment smells like him. Warm and…sensual.
Like he did last night when he kissed me.
I reach up and touch my lips, tracing their fullness as I replay the scene last night.
I’ve never been kissed before. All the boys in my class were always much older than me, seeing how many grades I had to skip to be with people at my level.
And those who were my age were always too intimidated by me.
Any attraction I felt was too mild, and a part of me believed that I was broken—that my body just couldn’t catch up with my brain.
Until him.
The tall, handsome man hired to guard me. Instant attraction. Being close to him did things to my body I had never experienced before. And last night, he kissed me. Well, we did more than just kiss, and it terrified me a little that I could want someone with such desperation.
Still, I want him.
Lying on his bed, breathing in his scent…my body aches for him. I turn on my side to look at the wall and wonder if he’s sleeping on the other side of it. Or is he thinking about me, too?
Suddenly, a pain-filled shout disrupts the quiet, jolting me into a sitting position and sending my heart into my throat. I strain my ears for any other sounds as my mind races with all kinds of thoughts.
Is it Yuri?
My father?
Oh God, what if they tracked me here?
I tug the covers away and slowly slide from the bed. Roarke assured me that this building was secure, but what if Yuri or my father got in? They are both very wealthy men and could easily hire someone to break into Roarke’s home.
What if he gets hurt? Then it would be all my fault.
I look around for a weapon to use, and when my eyes land on the lamp, I don’t think twice.
I grab the neck of the lamp and yank the cord from the socket, then tiptoe to my door.
I listen for any more noises, and it’s the low groan that has me yanking the door open, ready to break the lamp over Yuri’s skull.
I peer around the door, expecting to see two men locked in a fight, but the hallway is dark and empty. The only sound is coming from the next room, so I tiptoe to the door and grab the doorknob. I’m ready to knock when I hear the sounds coming from the room.
Oh.
Wait.
Is he…? I thought the sounds I’d heard were distressed, but what if they were something else entirely?
I flush at the thought of my bodyguard in there pleasuring himself. I’m about to discreetly leave when he mutters something, and I realize the moans are not sounds of pleasure. He sounds tortured.
I turn the knob and slowly push the door open, peering into the darkness, my eyes slowly adjusting to make sense of what I’m seeing—Roarke thrashes in bed, tangled in sheets. His face—that gorgeous face—is contorted in a mask of terror.
My pulse races as I watch him, his body convulsing and his breath coming in ragged gasps.
“Roarke,” I call out, my heart clenching painfully as he twists on the bed, fighting demons in his mind. “Roarke, wake up.”
I ache to go to him, but I’ve read about night terrors before and how dangerous they can be when you get too close to someone locked in a nightmare. Still, I feel a surge of frustration and helplessness at the need to reach the man and hold him until I’ve chased away the darkness plaguing him.
I take a step forward, aching to touch him, but I stop myself, shifting to turn on the lamp on the nightstand. I nearly step on something on the floor. I stare down at the picture frame and figure that he must have knocked it down.
“Roarke,” I try again, fingers itching to reach out and touch him. “Please wake up. Roarke!”
Still, he remains trapped in the darkness. Veins strained and damp hair matted to his forehead.
Think, Elena. Think!
I turn to look around the room before rushing to the door leading to his en suite bathroom. I spot a glass on the counter, so I grab it and fill it with water before rushing back to the room and throwing it on Roarke.
He jolts awake, gasping and choking. His eyes are wide and wild as he scans the room, and when they stop on me, I nearly drop the glass.
For a full minute, the room is quiet, except for his heavy pants.
Christ, he looks dangerous and so goddamned hot.
No, this is definitely not the right time to notice how good the man looks wet.
“Roarke,” I whisper, breaking the silence. “Are you okay?”
He blinks at me for a couple of seconds and I watch as awareness slowly returns. He runs a hand through his hair and looks away, breaking eye contact. “Yeah, I’m fine.”
I take a tentative step forward. “You don’t look fine.” A part of me longs to soothe him, to hold him against my breast and ground him. But I hold back. “You were having a nightmare. Do you want to talk about it?”
“I said I’m fine!”
I jerk at his harsh tone as hurt replaces concern. “Right, uh, sorry. I’ll just go.”
I’m almost at the door when a hand grabs my wrist and stops me.
“Wait. I’m sorry, Elena,” he says from behind me, and something in his voice has me turning around to look at him. “I’m sorry, that was rude of me. I should be thanking you instead, not taking out my frustrations on you.”
“It’s okay.”
He’s wearing a white T-shirt that clings to his chest. He runs a hand over his face.
“No, it’s no reason for me to…” he stops and glances down at his chest. My eyes follow his and I feel my cheeks redden when I realize how much of the T-shirt is soaked through from the water.
I can see his massive pecs and nipples, and the dark ink that runs all over his chest and arms. “Why am I wet?”
I bite my lip and resist the urge to look down at the sweats riding low on his hips. “I… It’s the only thing I could think of to wake you,” I tell him, raising the hand still holding the glass. “Sorry.” His eyes lift to mine, and the blush in my cheeks deepens. “What?”
“You’re blushing.”
“W-what? Of course not! Why would I do something crazy like that?” Oh Jesus.
His mouth lifts into a cocky grin as that gaze sears into me with such hunger and need that my knees nearly give out. “You like what you see, don’t you?”
“Yes…I mean, no.” Christ, why is it so hot in here? “Don’t flatter yourself, Roarke. I’ve seen bodies sexier than yours.”
“So, you think I’m sexy?”
“I…I don’t…I need to go to bed,” I say, my eyes lighting up with horror at my words. “My bed, not yours, of course. I mean, it is yours because it’s in your house, so that makes it your bed, but...” Kill me now! A spear to the heart would do the job. Anything!
“You’re nervous,” he says with a laugh. “You weren’t this nervous last night when I touched you.”
Right. “Maybe it’s because I fear you’ll abandon me again if I let you touch me.”
“Elena.” The smile on his face drops instantly, and my stomach flutters with nerves.
I guess we’re going to talk about this now. We’ve been avoiding the topic all day, and I was set on ignoring it completely.
“You want to hear me say that I find you sexy?” Deep breath.
“Yes, I do think you’re sexy, and I thought so last night when you walked into my room and kissed me, but you ruined it all when you left.
” He was the last thought in my mind when I fell asleep and the first when I woke up. “I thought you would stay.”
“I couldn’t stay. I crossed a line, one too many, and staying would have meant crossing more. Elena, you are my client, and last night, I did things I shouldn’t have.” He lifts a hand to my cheek, and I resist the urge to nuzzle his hand. “I was trying to do the right thing.”
“Leaving me alone and confused didn’t feel right to me.”
“No, you’re right,” he says with a sigh, brushing his thumb over my cheek that burns into my skin. “You’re right. I’m sorry. You deserve better than that, Elena, better than me.”
“I can make my own choices, don’t you think?” I drop my gaze, taking him in. From the way the wet T-shirt molds to his body, stretching across his wide shoulders and down to the large bulge outlined by his gray sweatpants. “I am allowed to choose who I want to marry.”
My body aches for him. Even being close to him, my nipples are already tight little pebbles against my T-shirt—his shirt— with a flaming heat lighting the spot between my legs.
There is desire in my eyes when I lift them back to his.
“Unless you’re like my father and don’t think I have a right to make any choices for myself. ”
“Elena...”
“If there were parts of me that I wanted to keep closed off to you, I would’ve said something, but I didn’t because I wanted you to touch me.
” I finally give in to the urge to touch him, brushing my fingers over his chest and trailing them down to his abs, loving the feel of him under my fingertips.
“I still do. I want you to touch me. All of me.”
It takes every bit of courage I can summon to lift my eyes to his, swallowing at the stark need I read in them.
“My virginity. I want you to take it.”
“A chroí,” he rasps, running the back of his hand over my jaw and down to my collarbone, stopping right above my aching breasts.
Every part of me aches from his closeness, and I shake as he traces his hand down my bare shoulder and arm, each caress working to ignite a fire under my skin until I’m burning alive.