“A few hours?” she moaned. “I shan’t make it.”
He snorted at her misery. “Sure you will. Just think about something else.”
“Like what?”
The teasing light remained in those dark eyes and for once, she caught a glimpse of the dimples she’d never known he had until very recently. “How much you hate me.”
Impishly, she placed her hand over one of those beckoning deep indentations in his cheeks. “I told you, I don’t hate you.”
“Anymore.”
Grimacing at his continued torment, she glared at him. “I’m too ill for this, Duel. Please don’t harass me.” She dropped her gaze down to the bruise on his arm from his fight earlier that day. “How are you feeling?”
“Honestly? I’m in agony.”
“You handle it well.” Much better than she did.
“’Cause I’m used to it.” As he started to withdraw from her bed, Mara stopped him.
“Stay with me and hold me. I’ve no wish to be alone when I feel like this.” Rolling to give him her back, she snuggled up against him and rested her head against his muscled arm. “I haven’t had any comfort in so long.… I miss it terribly.”
Devyl winced as guilt stabbed him hard at those whispered words. He was the sole reason for that. Had he not removed her from her home, she would have been with her family and friends. Not locked in his hell where she sought to avoid all contact with him and his people.
Or worse, kept in stasis because of his magick.
Wanting to make it up to her, he settled down behind her and pulled her back against his chest so that he could hold her in the dim light. Before he could stop himself, or think better of it, he caressed the softness of her silken cheek. Thoughts of what could have been haunted him and tortured him.
If only he could go back in time.…
Closing her eyes, she let out a contented sigh. But he was far from satisfied with this small bit. Rather, his body was rock hard and aching for the one thing he knew she’d never give him. And now that he knew she’d never been touched by another …
That was out of the question. He’d purposely avoided virgins. They were a complication no man needed. He preferred women who knew their own minds and bodies. Those well experienced who didn’t get their hearts entangled needlessly.
Yet therein was the problem. Her heart was something he’d wanted since the first day they met. And for once it wasn’t to feast upon it out of vexed frustration.
Squeezing his eyes shut, he tried to banish the part of him he hated most. That weak, insipid, useless piece that continued to crave frumpish things he knew he couldn’t have.
Home. Family.
Love.
Those were for better men. Never were they meant for the likes of him.
And as he lay there, harder than hell, the unthinkable happened. She trailed her hand down his forearm until she laced her tiny fingers with his. Then she brought his hand up to rest between her breasts so that she could snuggle against it.
“Why do you tremble so?” she breathed.
Because her gentle touch humbled him. It wrought a foreign tenderness inside him that wanted to protect and hold her forever. But he would never admit that out loud. “I’m trying to respect you, my lady.”
Mara rolled slightly so that she could meet his gaze, which swam with emotions she’d never seen there before. The moment she did, she felt his erection against her hip and saw the vibrant red color of his eyes. “Are you angry?”
“Nay. Too hungry to feel any other emotion.”
“Then you should eat.”
He gave her that handsome, adorable, crooked grin of his. “It’s not food I be craving.”
Her heartbeat picked up speed. “Would it take my mind off the storm?”
