Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 84544 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 423(@200wpm)___ 338(@250wpm)___ 282(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84544 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 423(@200wpm)___ 338(@250wpm)___ 282(@300wpm)
Perfect, warm smile? Check.
Sweet, kind temperament? Check.
Funny? Check.
Protective of those he loves? Huge check.
Sexy as hell? Another huge check.
And those were just the highlights. There were a hundred other reasons why Isidore pushed his buttons. No, smashed them with a sledgehammer.
There was no meeting another person like Isidore Panopoulos. It wasn’t going to happen. Not if he lived a hundred lifetimes. There was just no one else like Isidore. And Kairo wanted him. To claim him and possess him. Make him his alone.
He almost laughed aloud at his train of thought. Maybe he really did need to listen to Will on this one. It was time to stop worrying about how they would make a relationship work across their two very different worlds, and see if they truly had feelings for each other.
Kairo drifted off to sleep thinking about what it would be like to go out on a date with Isidore Panopoulos. And then give him a good night kiss on the doorstep, which just naturally would lead to more kissing inside the house.
He woke to the mattress sharply moving and a low moan. His eyes snapped open and he automatically reached for the knife under his pillow while his brain shook off the fog of sleep. In the thin light leaking between the curtains, he could see there was no one else in the room. No one standing over the bed preparing to kill him.
Another soft cry drifted from the other side of the bed followed by mumbled Greek that he couldn’t dream of understanding. Kairo released his hold on the knife under his pillow and rolled onto his side. Isidore was curled into a tight little ball of twitching muscles and little noises as he was locked in the torture of a nightmare.
He reached out and placed his hand on Isidore’s arm only to find that he was covered in cold sweat. At the tiniest shake, Isidore lurched upright and would have run across the room if Kairo hadn’t been holding on to him.
“Isidore! It’s okay. I’ve got you. You’re safe. I’ve got you,” Kairo quickly said, holding him so that Isidore was standing beside the bed.
Isidore sat heavily as if his knees gave out on him and he looked around the dark room with wide eyes. He shoved one hand through his hair, pushing it from his face. It was nearly a minute before he finally sighed, his shoulders slumping.
“Nightmare,” he whispered, sounding absolutely drained.
“Just a nightmare. You’re safe. Athena is safe,” Kairo reassured him. He released his hold on Isidore’s arm—now that he wasn’t in danger of running blindly off—and ran his hand up and down his back in a soothing caress.
“I’m sorry I woke you. Please, go to sleep. I-I think I’ll go sit up for a little while.”
“No, lay with me.” He tugged on Isidore’s shoulder, coaxing the man to stretch out in the bed again while Kairo turned to lay on his back. With a bit more pulling and nudging, he managed to get Isidore to roll onto his side facing Kairo, his head pillowed on Kairo’s chest. Kairo smiled to himself while running his fingers through Isidore’s sweaty hair.
“Do you want to talk about it? Sometimes it helps,” Kairo offered.
The arm Isidore had stretched across his waist tightened for a second as if he were trying to pull Kairo inside of his chest. “It was the same nightmare I’ve been having for the past few years. It’s another reason I’m reluctant to share a room with Athena. I don’t want her to worry.”
“What’s the nightmare?”
“The death of my parents.”
Kairo stiffened under Isidore, and he knew the other man felt it. They were too close right now. Of course he felt his reaction. Isidore started to pull away, but Kairo only gripped him harder. He turned his head to brush a kiss against the top of his head, silently telling him that he was there for him. He wasn’t going to run because things were messy or because Isidore was still dealing with unresolved trauma. Who the fuck wasn’t in this world? What? Isidore was supposed to be well-adjusted and always happy because he was rich? Bullshit.
“How did they die?” Kairo asked. Clearly Isidore needed to talk about it, to let those old ghosts out.
“Car accident. It’s been almost four years.” He paused and then whispered the words that nearly froze Kairo’s blood. “We were heading to a charity function. Athena wasn’t supposed to return from school for winter break for another three days, or she would have been in the car with us. The roads…the roads were icy.”
Kairo’s heart raced while his fingers dug into the muscles of Isidore’s back and shoulders. He’d been in the car. He had been in the same accident. He could have died that night and they would have never met.