“You do. Successful trip, I assume?” I cock my head to one side and give him a pointed stare.
“I guess you could say that. Just took care of some things. And conveyed a status report. Not very eventful.”
“Will that happen often? You running off to Greece?” My tone is desperate, almost pained. Feelings that startle me.
Dorian looks at me intensely, his eyes searching mine for the reason behind my sudden show of emotion. “Yes.”
I feel my face drop so I quickly turn my head to look at the blur of passing trees out the window. I hate myself for feeling like this, feeling so vulnerable and needy. I told myself I wouldn’t get emotionally involved, that I could separate my body from my heart. Who was I kidding? That could have never happened. Dorian is the most sensual, intense, mesmerizing man I have ever met. He has made love to every single part of me, inside and out. I set myself up for failure from the start.
Dorian leaves me with my tortured thoughts and doesn’t attempt to question me. He’s giving me space, exactly what I need in this moment. It’s crazy how well he knows me and how little I know about him. I don’t know what awaits him in Greece. He could have a wife and kids there, and live some salacious double life. As gorgeous, successful, and, well, perfect as he is, it is certainly possible. Why wouldn’t he be attached?
“Don’t think too much,” Dorian whispers, his lips suddenly at my ear.
I look at him skeptically. “How do you do that?”
“Do what?” he answers with a raised eyebrow.
“Say things to me as if you know what I’m thinking.” I’m a bit annoyed at the possibility that he could be invading on my private thoughts. My pathetic ramblings are for me and only me.
“I don’t know what you’re thinking,” Dorian chuckles. “I’m not a mind reader. Just perceptive, which isn’t difficult considering my…background. And yours too.”
“What do you mean, ‘your background’? And mine? What are you talking about?” I scoot closer to him and look at him anxiously.
“Your aura, Gabriella. I can see it. Just like you can see mine.” Dorian assesses my shocked, mortified expression. “It’s ok, you know. All kinds of average, ordinary people can see auras, too. It’s really no big deal.”
Whoa. So Dorian definitely knows that I’m different. But how different? And why is he just now divulging that he knows about my abnormality? All this time trying to ignore the vivid colors that halo his magnificence, and all the while he can see it too. In some odd way, I feel comforted with this revelation. Less alone in my new life. Though it is impossible for Dorian to be exactly like me, he’s something. He can relate, sympathize. But that’s as far as it goes.
I give Dorian a weak grin and shake my head. “You’re not like me. No one is.”
His finger captures my chin and he turns it to face him, his eyes wild with intense emotion. “I’m more like you than you think.”
“Ok, bathroom break!” Jared calls from the driver’s seat, pulling into the parking lot of a gas station. I hadn’t even noticed we were slowing down.
Dorian and I stare at each other intently, neither of us wanting to look away, yet we don’t want to delve any deeper. He’s like me? That’s preposterous. The Light vowed to remain out of my life until I pledged my allegiance to them. And he can’t be Dark. He just can’t. There’s no way that someone so kind, generous, loving and passionate could be Dark. I may not know him as well as I’d like, but I know that Dorian doesn’t have an evil bone in his body. He is the best kind of good that there is. I could never be that blind, that stupid. Right?
Reluctantly, I break his hold on my gaze to look towards the front of the van just as James hops out. Refusing to acknowledge the static between Dorian and me, I maneuver myself out of my seat and exit the van. I consciously walk ahead to catch up with Morgan, though I can hear Dorian’s footsteps behind me. I need to put some space between us; I need to escape the magnetism that draws me to him like a moth to a flame and renders me completely foolish. He makes me forget all caution and sensibility, allowing me to abandon my usual skeptical, distrusting nature. I need some normalcy. I need my best friend.
Unfortunately, when we enter the ladies room, Aurora is there in all her grand perfection, looking anything but normal. Looks like my pow-wow with Morgan will have to wait, though I have no clue what I would tell her. It’s not like I could be honest with her. And what would honesty entail? I am not even sure I could even explain my suspicions about Dorian to her without her laughing in my face or running for the hills. No. I can’t confide in Morgan with this.