I pinch my lips together.
He exhales. “We’re back to the silent treatment, I see.”
A new onslaught of nervousness sweeps through me. With every one of my senses full of Tristano, I’d forgotten I spoke earlier. After two long years my silence has been broken by a single word.
Hisname, of all things.
He brushes back a lock of my hair away from my forehead. “‘Yes or no questions’ may take longer, but they won’t stop me from obtaining the information I want. So, let’s try again and this time I’ll do it your way.”
My throat constricts when I swallow past the ball of apprehension firmly lodged in my esophagus. I don’t understand why he’s so determined to communicate with me. I’m not of any value to him, outside of the promise he made to Carina, which means my problems shouldn’t matter to him and we don’t need to discuss them. Or anything else.
Yet, he’s starting to pressure me to speak more and more every time we interact.
It feels foolish to look away from him and scan the room, but I want to get some bearings on where I am and hopefully find Beni. He’s a great distraction with the outrageous things he says.
The drapes covering the floor-length windows block out the majority of the sunlight just on the other side. Small rays attempt to sneak in underneath the curtains’ bottom edges and I wish I knew exactly what the time was. Beni is nowhere to be found in the bedroom where I currently am. There’s a table and set of chairs I can barely make out from the dim lighting, along with an armoire and a door that possibly leads to a bathroom.
There’s no one here except me and Tristano.
Just knowing I’m alone with him has my adrenaline rising again.
“Whatever was frightening you,” he asks, “did it have anything to do with me?”
My brows draw close and I bring my gaze back to his. What an odd question. Why is he asking that specifically? I consider trying to force the question from my mouth, but if I do, he’ll demand answers from me that I don’t want to reveal. Instead, I slowly shake my head.
He nods once, processing my response and probably determining its authenticity. If the discerning light in his gaze is any indication. “Is it because you’re worried for your sister?”
I lift my hand to make a gesture and discover my fingers are clenched around the material of his shirt. From an outside view, it’d look as though I’m pulling Tristano to me for a kiss. The very idea rids my body of the lingering cold and heats it to an uncomfortable temperature. It’s as though I’m having an out-of-body experience, or it could be that my mind has relinquished control over the physical parts of me. Whatever the reason, I don’t let go of him.
And I drop my gaze to his lips.
Would his mouth be hot and domineering? Or would his lips be soft but firm? I can imagine Tristano kissing someone in both ways, depending on the height of his arousal. He could easily be a demanding lover and exert authority in all ways, or tender as he coaxed passion to bloom in his partner.
He dips his head closer to me and the ends of his hair slide across my jaw. The simple contact yanks me from my fantasizing and I’m grateful for the darkness because it hides the embarrassment rising to my cheeks.
“Did you hear what I said?” he asks.
I squeeze my eyes shut to center myself and nod because I can’t look at him without thinking about how he kisses and what it’d feel like. And how dangerously high the level of my curiosity has risen to, only equal to how badly I want to kiss him.
“Were you crying out in your sleep because of your concern for Carina?” he asks.
I open my eyes and nod. It’s not a total lie, but not a complete truth. Can a half-truth still be considered truthful?
“You don’t need to worry.” Tristano begins stroking my face again and each sweep of his thumb causes my heart rate to speed up. “I’ve been notified that both Rafael and your sister are at my residence without any injuries.”
My sigh is due to my relief for my sister.
And because of Tristano’s touch.
I lean into it just the slightest bit and pray he won’t notice. I’ve never received such tenderness from a man. And for it to come from the eldest Silvestri brother who’s the head of his family, as well as one of the most influential men in the Wolf Pack? It’s unfathomable. I can’t count the number of times my father mentioned Tristano’s name with begrudging respect, not realizing I was nearby.According to my father, Tristano’s ring—the signet one with a wolf’s head on it—symbolizes he’s very high up in the Wolf Pack.
“You haven’t slept more than a handful of hours,” Tristano says with a crease between his brows, “and that includes the time on the jet, plus the ride here. Do you wish to get some more rest?”
My answer is a shrug.
I can’t decide whether I want to push through the rest of this day with minimal sleep or if I should try to rest again. Usually my nightmares don’t occur twice in a twenty-four hour period, but I’m unwilling to chance it with Tristano here.
Knowing he’s seen me at my worst is humiliating and what makes it even more distressing is I don’t know if I revealed any secrets during my incoherent moment. Carina told me I talk in my sleep and she used to tease me about the random things I said. The very idea of anyone else seeing me do that makes me inwardly cringe.
