Chapter 14
“Can I get you anything else, Your Grace?” Delia asked.
Slowly, Caroline pulled herself from her thoughts and turned to her maid, willing a small smile.
“I am all set for the evening, thank you, Delia,” she replied. “And thank you for whatever you added to my bath. It was lovely.”
Delia smiled with pride before she dipped into a curtsy.
“A touch of buttermilk and lavender, Your Grace,” she explained. “The perfect way to soothe the body after such a tense day.”
Tense indeed. No matter what task she had set herself for the rest of that day, Caroline’s thoughts always wandered back to Damien’s naked form and the feelings she experienced when seeing it. It had left her shoulders and back tense, and only Delia’s miracle bath had managed to soothe them.
As soon as she was finished with the bath, however, her thoughts of her husband grew vivid once again, and already she felt the tension returning.
Not wanting Delia to witness her mind running off again, Caroline dismissed her for the night, locked her door out of habit, and then curled up on her bed, snuggling deep into the clean sheets and heavy duvet as she closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep.
Warm, strong arms wrapped around her naked waist, pulling her flush against a wide, firm, bare torso, and instead of fighting them, Caroline let out a breathless sigh as she felt the hard press of him against her buttocks.
His hands splayed across her stomach and began a slow, torturous descent as his lips found her neck, her ear, the sensitive curve of her throat, and she tilted her head back against his shoulder with a soft moan, her hips pressing back into him of their own accord.
“Why did you scurry away from me, Caroline?” Damien’s deep voice rumbled into her ear.
“I was afraid,” she sighed, letting her body sink deeper into the comfort of his.
Pleasure pulsed through her as his lips traced a slow, deliberate path down her neck, teeth grazing just enough to make her shiver, and as his hands turned her to face him, the full, hard length of him pressed against her belly and pulled a sharp gasp from her lips.
“Look at me, Caroline,” Damien coaxed as his hand settled around her throat and his thumb tilted her chin upward.
Slowly, she obeyed, and another wave of warm desire spread through her body as she met his amber eyes. They shone with a raw emotion she had never seen in him before. She nestled closer to his body, reveling in the way he made her feel safe and desired.
“Do not fear me,” he rasped, his deep voice pleading as his lips loomed closer to hers. “I will take care of you. I will keep you safe.”
A whimper left her lips as his mouth finally found hers, hungry and unhurried all at once, and she melted into him, her hands fisting in his hair as she kissed him back with everything she had been too afraid to feel.
Then, suddenly, her lips, her entire body, were cold. Her arms, once wrapped around Damien’s naked waist, were empty. Caroline’s eyes snapped open, and her heart began to hammer as she discovered Damien was gone.
“Damien?” she called, panic bleeding into her sense of safety. “Damien!”
“You truly thought he could protect you, Caroline?”
She whirled as she heard Agatha’s voice, and a cry left her lips as she found her stepmother standing there, her eyes and voice as cold as ever.
“No... no,” Caroline croaked, stumbling back from her. “What do you want?”
A wicked smile spread across Agatha’s lips as she took a step toward her.
“You think you can fool me, you indecent little tramp? Think you could foil my plans and nothing would happen?” Agatha asked, taking another step closer.
Caroline attempted to step back, but her feet suddenly felt like they were rooted to the ground.
“Stay back!” she screamed, raising her hands.
Agatha vanished, but in a split second, she appeared again, this time nose to nose with Caroline as her hand fisted in her hair.
Caroline let out another cry as Agatha wrenched her head back and slapped her.
Pain blistered through her cheek, but it was nothing compared to the fear coursing through her veins.
“You will pay for what you did!” Agatha screamed into her face, then struck her again.
“No!” Caroline screamed. She reached up, clawing with all her might, but her curled fingers did nothing but brush through the air. “Help!”
A loud banging thundered from beyond as Agatha tightened her grip in Caroline’s hair with one hand and painfully clenched her jaw with the other.
“No one can save you! Do you hear me? You will pay!”
A bloodcurdling scream erupted from Caroline’s lungs as the banging grew louder. This time, followed by a bestial roar.
“Caroline!”
With a gasp, Caroline sat up. Her heart was pounding loudly in her chest, and her recently cleaned skin was now slick with sweat.
“It was a dream,” she rasped to herself, clenching her sheets with her fists. “It was just a dream.”
Then the banging started again, loud and angry enough to make her scream again and flinch. It took her several seconds to realize that she was not sinking back into the nightmare, but that someone was knocking aggressively at her door.
Her entire body still trembling, Caroline pulled back her covers, but before she could even attempt to move her legs, a loud thud erupted from the door, followed by the sound of cracking wood and whining hinges as it fell to the floor in a broken heap.
Light spilled into her darkened room, along with a shadowed figure.
What just happened?
A familiar deep voice rumbled, and the sound of a match being struck was followed by a flare of yellow light.
His short hair was mussed, and his sweaty, shirtless physique made her wonder what he had just been dragged from, but Damien’s chiseled features negated any look of sleep or distraction.
Instead, his jaw was clenched, and his eyes were narrowed, looking as if he was ready to engage in battle with his fists curled tightly at his sides.
“Caroline. You were screaming, and I thought... I feared... Are you all right?”
“I am sorry,” she rasped, her trembling growing worse as he stalked into the room. “I am sorry.”
Tears blurred her vision as she cast her eyes to her blankets.
“Stop apologizing,” he barked. She winced at the gruffness, and a moment later, she heard a soft sigh escape him.
“You do not have to apologize,” he said again, much gentler this time, setting the candle he lit atop her bedside table before sitting on the edge of her bed. “Just tell me what happened.”
Caroline shook her head, her throat feeling tight with pent-up sobs. She took a moment, working to swallow them as she willed her body to calm down.
“You tell me what happened,” she finally said when she could speak again.
When he gave her a confused look, she glanced toward the broken door before meeting Damien’s gaze, then quickly dropped her line of sight back to the bed.
Damien’s fingers curled around her chin, and she braced for pain, but instead his hand gently coaxed her to turn her head.
When she looked at him again, she realized that it was not rage in his eyes, but worry.
“Your door was locked,” he explained, his large fingers so very gently caressing her chin, as he spoke in a low, soothing tone. “I had to break it down.”
“Why?” she asked, her trembling already starting to subside with his soothing touch.
His dark brows furrowed as he frowned deeply.
“What do you mean by why? You were screaming,” he explained. “You were screaming so loudly and over and over again, as if you were being hurt, and you would not respond to the knocking. I needed to make sure you were safe.”
Caroline drew in a long, shaky breath and willed her mind to calm as she closed her eyes.
Sadness bloomed in her as Damien pulled his fingers away from her chin, leaving her to have to start the process all over again.
It was as if his touch had given her an anchor, and without it, she was floating away to the darkness again.
“Apologies,” he murmured. “I forgot. No touching.”
Caroline pressed her lips shut to keep from asking him to ignore her stupid rule and watched as he rose from his seat on her bed only to drag a chair close.
“It was only a nightmare,” she finally explained, willing her mental walls to go back up. “And you are a madman for breaking down that door.”
“I have been called worse,” Damien answered, shrugging his massive shoulders before taking a seat. “Do not worry, I will have the door replaced tomorrow.”
Caroline let out a weak huff of a laugh, amazed that even though just a moment ago he had broken through the door to get to her, he was now acting nonchalant about the entire thing.
“You should go,” she told him, watching as he settled into his chair. “I am fine. Truly. It was just a nightmare. As you can see, no one is in here trying to hurt me.”
“I know, but I want you to tell me about it. What did you dream about?” Damien asked.
Caroline’s brows furrowed as she still sat up rigidly in her bed.
“It was nothing,” she replied.
Damien’s brows tensed, but his gaze did not harden.
“Do not lie to me, Caroline. Please,” he quietly insisted.
It was the way he said please. Not pleading, but not sharp either.
Just an earnest need for the truth. She licked her lips, blushing as she tried to find the right place to start.
She supposed there were some parts she was willing to explain, but she certainly was not going to tell him how the dream had started. She blushed just at the thought of it.
“Was it about your stepmother?” Damien asked.
Her eyes flicked back up to his, surprised that this was his first guess.
“How did you know?” she whispered, shaking her head. “I have never told anyone. Not even Elara.”
A small, humorless smile flitted across Damien’s lips for the briefest of seconds.