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I pressed my lips together and looked back at my hand, but that didn't stop the cold images in my head from flooding back.

I couldn't push it out of my mind, not even with Salma.

Sister Silvar had lost her life because of the ice inside me.

More memories flooded back to me. Memories of the water. I had moved it, even though I was not a Water Quatura, and a short time later, I had understood where the source of this power had been, where it was. And now, I was sure.

My baby would become a Water Quatura.

It was a fact, a piece of objective information. However, it intensified the tingling sensation in my stomach.

After all these weeks, I still hadn't gotten used to the fact that the man in front of me was unknowingly the father of my child.

The warmth in my hand became more and more pleasant, allowing me to push the images of Silvar out of my mind. Every now and then, small flashes of pain shot across the edges of my wound.

I Want You

Nick Streten

I looked at Quentin, studying his features, every angle, every edge, every structural irregularity, the intensity of his eyes, the light paleness of his warm blond hair.

What else would my child inherit from him? How much from Erik? How much of this part of his personality? Would it resemble him strongly?

Quentin looked up from my hand, straight into my eyes.

Immediately, I felt butterflies fluttering in my stomach, as if they had forgotten that I lived in Blairville. As if there was only Quentin...

Several strands of hair hung over his forehead, his lips slightly parted. Beautiful, even lips that could elicit a lustful moan from my throat when they closed gently yet demandingly around my nipples.

The overwhelming tingling sensation traveled across my skin and I felt my nipples harden, pressing against my bra and the thin fabric of my blouse.

I swallowed almost imperceptibly and breathed as shallowly as possible.

Quentin's gaze slid from my eyes to my lips.

The butterflies escalated.

I didn't care who this man in front of me pretended to be, because it was as if my body knew who was behind this facade.

I wanted Erik. I wanted him with my whole being.

It was one of those moments when the truth rested on my tongue. One word and he would know.

The longing in my chest weighed heavily, heavier than anything else in my life.

I wanted to whisper his name, wanted to close the gap between us to finally feel his warm lips on mine again, wanted those hands, which were now ever more carefully enclosing my hands, to feel my breasts, wanted him to knead them, to claw into them.

With my cheeks burning, I bit my lower lip.

Quentin stared at my mouth.

I looked away.

Oh God, what was I doing here? Was I still in my right mind? Was it the hormones?

Embarrassed, I looked down at our hands.

How long would I be able to keep this secret to myself?