Total pages in book: 145
Estimated words: 148397 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 742(@200wpm)___ 594(@250wpm)___ 495(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 148397 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 742(@200wpm)___ 594(@250wpm)___ 495(@300wpm)
“Electrolytes.” She gave me a half smile, passing me the bottles. “You’ve lost a fair amount of blood, but I think your dizziness is mainly from lack of sustenance and whatever else happened out there today. As long as you drink this and take a few days to rest, your body will make up the blood, and you’ll feel better. If you’re struggling to regulate your body temperature and think you can avoid falling down the stairs, go grab some food from the kitchen. That’ll help too.” Ripping off her latex gloves, she arched her chin at the door. “Now, go away. I’ll pop by in the morning to check on Ily.”
She didn’t speak again as I slipped my no-longer bleeding arm into my gown, lashed the belt tight, then slipped back into the night.
Chapter Thirteen
………………………….
Ily
I WOKE WITH A START.
I felt as if I’d lost something but couldn’t remember what.
Echoes of Krish.
Of Peter.
Henri.
God, Henri…
I groaned as sleepiness switched into pure fire. Fire in my blood, my heart, my core.
Every part of me hummed.
Fragments of my dream taunted me and the wetness between my thighs hinted it hadn’t been a platonic kind of fantasy. I felt empty after being full. Cold after being hugged. Lost and confused and lonely and—
Just a dream.
Kicking my legs beneath the suffocating blankets, I rolled onto my other side.
I hated that even the cotton acted like an aphrodisiac. I’d grown well acquainted with achy desperation since meeting Henri, but this was far, far worse.
This felt insidious…growing hotter and hotter—
Ignore it.
Burrowing onto my side, I winced at the slightest flares of discomfort. The softest twinges of pain as I did my best to ignore the heat in my lower belly and tingles in my breasts.
I made the mistake of opening my eyes.
I froze.
Him.
The smallest halo of white light bled over the sweet-smelling cream pages of a book. The nightlight, jammed into the thick story, gave just enough glow to read by—a tiny puddle in the dark.
In the shadows cast by the booklight, my gaze drifted over strong masculine hands holding the binding spread. Veins popped over bruised knuckles, tendons threaded under tanned skin. Both marvels of the human form worked their way up powerful forearms.
I stopped breathing as my eyes locked on his bare chest.
Chiselled with darkness and sculpted by the monster housed within, his pecs twitched as I studied him. The flinch dragged my eyes to his stubble-decorated jaw, over the hollows of his stern cheeks, and up, up, up to his burning, blazing grey eyes.
Even in the pitch darkness, even in this fortress of blackness, he was beautiful.
So wonderfully, horribly beautiful.
The fire in my blood broke into an inferno.
Not thinking. Not feeling. Merely existing in this present, fragile moment, I pushed upright and let the blankets fall away.
I’m burning…
His sharp inhale as his gaze fell to my bruise-colourful breasts made my entire body shiver. He froze where he sat upright, supported by folded pillows, his chin tipped down and face cold.
The room switched from calm rest to savage awareness as we stared at each other.
Goosebumps coated me as he sucked in his bottom lip and bit down.
I couldn’t stop looking at him.
How gorgeous he was holding a book. Reading. How stunning he was strangling a book that wasn’t just a prop but a lifeline.
He’d been reading a while, judging by how many pages existed beneath his thumb.
He held the tale as if it would save him from himself and cursed me for dragging him out of it. This was his meditation. Words were his salvation, and I felt absolutely humbled to know it.
To know him.
I swayed closer.
He stiffened.
A plate covered in crumbs on the bedside table hinted he’d eaten something while I’d been asleep. A sandwich waited on another plate…for me?
How long had I been asleep?
Did it matter?
All that mattered was this.
This man.
This tortured, terrible man who liked to read.
An avenger who’d defended me. A monster who’d mauled me. A ghost, a nightmare, a lonely boy…
I shivered again, flames licking all over my body.
I’d always been drawn to intelligence. Always loved to debate books on history, gemmology, and faith. My parents had given me an entire library on my sixteenth birthday. Titles full of the truths about living and dying and finding a balanced middle way.
The trick to existing was accepting that every facet of life and death was impermanent.
I’d forgotten that in my fight to survive here.
The only law in this world was the law of change. Nothing was permanent. Everything began, endured, and ended.
Eventually, this stolen silent moment of sharing a bed with this terribly gorgeous bookworm would end, and…I mourned it.
I grieved every other moment I’d lived and cursed, valued and unappreciated.
The memory of the caves still haunted me.
The nightmare of dragging Peter still ached in my limbs.
It’d been one of the worst days of my life.