A Touch of Temptation(60)
* * *
It was midnight by the time he walked toward his bedroom. He had showered at the gym, yelled his head off at Anna and Miguel when they’d tried to talk to him and then wandered on the beach for more than a couple of hours.
And he still wasn’t tired. Every nerve in him was strung tight. Olivia would have gone to see Kim yesterday. She would have handed her his documents. He couldn’t breathe for the ball of pain that was hanging around his neck.
He froze at the entrance to his bedroom.
A breeze flew in from the ocean. The French doors were wide open. The lamp was turned on, the feeble light from it illuminating the woman snoring softly in the center of his king bed.
He felt as if a tornado had hit him in the gut and then tossed him around.
How long had she been waiting for him? When had she arrived?
She was lying on her side, her knees tucked into her chest. Her arms were wrapped around herself. He didn’t question why she had returned. He didn’t question why she was in his bedroom, of all the rooms in the villa. They hadn’t shared a bed even when she had been here.
Kim was back. The woman he loved with every breath in him was back.
He walked toward the bed, his gaze unblinking. His chest tightened and he realized the tight sensation was fear. Every inch of him was shaking with spine-chilling fear. He loved this woman so much and he was afraid to blink. He was afraid she would disappear if he did.
He climbed on to the bed slowly and pulled the cotton covers over her sleeping form.
She wore a silk sleeveless gown in dark blue that clung to the small bump at her stomach and just about covered her knees. The lace neckline fluttered over her breasts with every breeze that flew in through the door. He greedily looked over her, from her hair, which was a mess, to her painted toes.
Her long eyelashes cast shadows on her cheeks. Dark blue circles hung under her eyes. He muttered a soft curse.
Droga, that gaunt look was back in her face again. He rubbed the pad of his thumb over her cheek, his breath hovering in his throat. And then, and only then, did he breathe air into his lungs again.
He ran his fingers over her toned arms. The skin was so soft and silky that he was afraid he would mark her with his rough fingers. His hand shaking, he pulled back.
He was never going to let her go. He had ripped out his own heart to let her go once. He couldn’t do it again.
Even if he had to handcuff her to this very bed. Even if he had to spend the rest of his life tearing away her defenses piece by piece.
He didn’t care anymore if she loved him or not, if she was as crazy about him as he was about her. All he wanted was to spend his life with her, looking after her, loving her, telling her every single day how much he wanted her, how much he needed her.
He stretched out next to her, feeling the weight on his shoulders dissolve into nothingness. Calm floated over him. His sore body felt lighter. He would just sit here, stay with her, watch over her.
He turned onto his side and pressed his mouth to her temple, breathed in her scent. And closed his eyes.
Sleep hit his eyelids with the force of a hurricane dragging him under, as though it hadn’t eluded him at all for that whole torturous week.
* * *
Kim drifted awake suddenly, instantly registering the warm, comforting weight around her waist. It was the same feeling all over, actually. From her hair to her toes she felt as if she was encased in the most delicious embrace ever.
She opened sleep-heavy eyes. The lamp she had turned on was still lit, and Diego’s sleeping face filled her vision. A soft gasp escaped her mouth. It was his arm that hung around her middle.
Her heart went from a quiet drone to a thundering pace in a mere second.
For a few minutes she just looked at him to her heart’s content. He wore shorts and nothing else. She swallowed as her gaze drifted over his long, hair-roughened legs. His abdomen was a ridge of hard muscles, with a line of hair that disappeared into his shorts.
His powerfully built chest rose and fell with his even breathing. The groove where his neck met his shoulders invited her touch. She fisted her hands, her gaze on his face now.
His mouth was a lush line in repose, his features etched with the passion and kindness that made this man. How stupid had she been to walk away from him?
Taking a deep breath, she lifted the arm around her middle and twined her fingers with his long ones. She heard him breathe in on a soft hiss and froze. With a frown, she pulled his hand up and saw the raw knuckles. The skin was broken in several places and crusted with blood.
Tears hit her eyes with a brutal force. She lifted his hand to her mouth and kissed the center of his palm. She dragged her mouth over the rough calluses, learning and loving every inch of him anew.
His breathing altered from its soft rhythm to a sharp intake of breath. She froze with the tips of his fingers on her mouth.