“Eve…” He set the glass on the floor and sat on the table. “Look, Reyn is a hardhead, and I’m sorry for what—”
“No-no.” She cut him off and prayed he wouldn’t notice her heightened color. “It’s my fault, I shouldn’t have touched him. He had a nightmare. And I-I only wanted to offer comfort, but I got pulled into his dreams instead…”
Eve stared at her ruined hands.Why me?The bitter question flared in her mind, but it wasn’t like she’d get an answer now.
“What do you mean?”
She looked up as Aerén’s brow puckered in confusion. He glanced at her fisted fingers and understanding lit his gaze. “When you touch another you can see their thoughts?”
“Yes.”
“How?”
She clasped her knees again, tried desperately to find some measure of control.
“A car crash, a long time ago…” She told him about the accident and the ability it had left her with.
“Would it not be an advantage to know?” he teased.
A harsh laugh escaped her. “No. Fate is not that kind. When I touch another, I'm drawn into their mind, I see and feel their thoughts, and it hurts. The darker it is, the worse it gets for me. I sometimes pass out.”
“I’m sorry. I really am,” he said quietly. “What happens ifItouch you?”
“Nothing. Just me. I couldn’tseeReynner’s thoughts either, until now. His shields must have fallen….” While he was asleep, and she’d tried to comfort him, thinking him safe.
Oh, God. Eve buried her face in her knees as the awful memories swamped her again.
Warm, calloused hands took hold of hers.
“What are you doing?” Her head snapped up. Terror choked her, pain squeezing her chest.
“Easy,” Aerén soothed her. “I am safe. Listen...” he said, his thumb rubbing her scarred palms. She tried to pull back, then stilled when she realized the only ache she felt came from her compressed lungs. Eve inhaled a shuddering breath. “How?”
“It’s the way we are. We learn to shield at a young age.”
About to ask what he meant by that odd comment, Aerén placed her splayed fingers on his face, distracting her. “Feel...”
Eve closed her eyes and let the sensation lost for so many years steal over her, allowing herself a moment to savor finally being able to touch another. And became aware of warm masculine skin with a rasp of beard beneath her palm.
“See? You can touch me. There is no need to be afraid,” Aerén murmured, continuing to caress her hands.
Eve opened her eyes and met his warm sterling ones, so close to hers. His gaze drifted down to her mouth.
Oh, no. She tugged her hands, but he didn't let go. “Aerén, don’t.”
“Why?”
Because I want another.
A wry smile curved her lips. “Besides the fact that I just met you several hours ago—you're what, twenty—twenty-one? I'm twenty-five, a quarter of a century.”
Amusement twinkled in his light eyes. He let her go. “If it makes you happy to think so, by all means.”
Eve understood Aerén’s flirting was to take her mind off what had happened earlier. But the questions prowling in her head refused to remain silent any longer. “Aerén, do you know what happened to Reynner? When I touched him, I saw his dreams—his nightmares. Why was he locked in a cell?”
Aerén pushed to his feet, looking uneasy. “You will have to ask him. My advice, don’t. He doesn’t ever speak about his captivity.”
His words landed with the impact of a punch to her stomach.
