“Did I hurt you—are you in pain?”
Pain? He tasted hatred again. He wanted to kill the motherfucker.
Blaéz pushed off the bed. He needed distance, needed to find a way to shut down the past before it destroyed the fragile bond he’d barely formed with this female he wanted more than his next breath. In the still darkened room, he found his boots in the corner near the dresser.
The sheets rustled as she sat up. “It’s okay, you just hit the lamp.”
Hit the lamp?
His gaze lit on the broken ceramic pieces scattered on the floor in horror. He could have hurt her—killed her in his anger. With rigid movements, he pulled on his boots.
“You’re leaving?”
Grabbing the ugly jacket off the chair, he glanced at her. The hurt and confusion on her face had guilt searing him. He wanted to go to her, soothe her, but touching her was too dangerous right now, his entire being teetered on the edge with loathing roiling through him. He needed to calm down before he exploded and destroyed everything around him.
“Yes. I’ll see you later,” he said, and headed for the door. The shit from his past a mantle he could never leave behind. It had ruined a moment that should have been perfect.
Perfect? What a fucking joke.
Nothing in his life was perfect…except her.
* * *
Darci stared at the empty doorway, the desire from moments ago lost in her distress.
One minute he’d been kissing her—the sweetness of his kiss unlike anything she’d ever expected from a hard man like him. The awe in his touch, his tenderness made her reel. He made her feel as if she were everything he desired. The next minute, he’d frozen on top of her and it all had fallen apart.
She wanted to call him, to reassure herself that he was okay but changed her mind, deciding to wait for his call. If Blaéz wanted to talk, he wouldn’t have rushed off.
Sighing, she flipped her heavy hair back and slid off the bed. The black fabric on the floor near the dresser caught her eye. She walked over and picked up his ruined shirt and, despite the blood, the smell of leather and another that was uniquely Blaéz filled her nose.
A pang pierced her chest. She’d been alone for over two years. Preferred it that way after her dating disasters. But Blaéz had changed all that. She really, really hoped that there was alaterfor them.
Chapter 9
Blaéz leaned backin his chair in his study, the financial stock reports scrolling on the desktop screen in front of him. His computer beeped. He ignored the warning indicating shaky stocks. His mind stuck in replay, rewinding the events of earlier that morning. Of how close he’d come to hurting Darci. His past seemed to be having a field day making him relive everything in technicolor. Why now, when it never had before?
He wanted to see Darci, but she was at work. After the way he’d left, the library was hardly the place to talk. He picked up his cell and hesitated. Would he feel the same connection as when he was with her?
Only one way to find out. He tapped star one…
She answered on the third ring. “Blaéz?”
Her voice held warmth, concern. He heard it, just wished he felt it. His heart continued on that same slow beat, no excited thudding, no urge to touch her—to press his nose against her neck and breathe in her scent like it was his own personal oxygen. Nothing.
He closed his eyes.
“Blaéz, you there?”
He didn’t respond as the voices in his head grew. Mocking him.You’re a loose cannon, Celt.
Like he didn’t know that.
He disconnected and set his cell on the desk. Ominous laughter overrode his consciousness and echoed in his skull, pulling him back to the emptiness of his life. With no reprieve, there was only one thing that kept him anchored and stopped him from falling into an abyss.
He mind-linked Týr,Training. Swords.
Blaéz changed into Gi’s and a tee then took the narrow back stairs down to the basement. He encountered Echo coming up them, carrying an armful of books. He nodded and stepped aside, giving her way. But she stopped a stair below. “Do you have a minute?”
