Illusion(27)

“I will never leave you, Josephine,” he assured me. “No relationship is perfect and I have told you time and time again that we are in this together. You cannot just run off and not talk to me.”

“I know. I guess I needed time to think and I didn’t go about it in the right way.”

“I thought you had left me, Josephine.” He lay down beside of me with his head on my pillow, our heads touching. His fingertips lightly stroked my face and his eyes swept over my face, as if committing it to memory.

“I wouldn’t leave you, Stefan. I just needed to leave reality for awhile. I had a few cups of espresso at Chelsea Market.”

He offered me a weak smile. “You were in a coffee shop in Chelsea? You drowned your sorrows in over-priced tiny cups of coffee?”

I nodded and huddled against his broad chest, which was now as warm against me.

“You befuddle me, Josephine,” he sighed softly. “No more running from me. You not only ran from Kian, vackra. You ran from what we have.” He gestured between us, raising his eyebrows sternly.

“No more running,” I agreed vehemently.

He nodded and finally, his arms embraced me, overwhelming me with his ferociousness. It was like coming home, erasing all of my doubts and quieting the voices in my head. I peeked into his mind, and the fear and confusion he felt was overpowering. His thoughts were like mine last night, chaotic and conflicted.

“I spent the night staring out the windows, reflecting back over the last few weeks. I wondered if I made the right choice in finding you and exposing you to this life. I feel as if you never truly heard all the things I said to you,” he said impassively against my hair. “And not with your ears, with your heart. Perhaps I have not told you what you needed to hear.”

“Stefan...”

“Let me finish,” Stefan continued quietly. “Yet I am selfish. I realized that I would have continued to search for you regardless. I was on a mission to find you, the only thing I’ve known for two centuries. There will never be another for me except you. However, I will let you go. I love for the first time in my long life, and I will not force you to give up who and what you are because I think I know what is best for you.”

Craning my neck, I regarded him in a new light and with different eyes. Possibly Stefan was right. I’d never really listened to him, not with my heart. It was if someone flicked on a light bulb in a dark room and I could see the light. Stefan Lifsten, in his almost 1,000 years on this earth, had said he’d never loved anyone until he met me. He was willing to sacrifice it all to let me go.

And what did I do? I single-handedly did the worst possible thing to him. I ran from him. He assumed the worst, figuring I’d had enough and taken off. In his mind, I proved his theory right.

What did I know about love? I’d never loved a man in a romantic way until Stefan. Most of my relationships failed even before they had a chance to begin. Stefan and I were both stumbling through a relationship, a millennia old vampire and a hybrid vampire. Helplessly lost, hopelessly in love.

“I’m going to talk now.” I pushed him to his back against the bed and climbed to straddle his hips. My fingers began methodically unbuttoning his shirt and once it was open, I met his gaze. “I love you, Stefan. The best night of my life happened the moment you walked into it.” I leaned over him, pressing my breasts against his chest, fisting my hands into his thick hair. “I was foolish because I ran from you last night and I won’t ever make that mistake again. I’m not giving you up. You were reborn for me.”

Stefan had flipped me to my back before I could blink, standing at the foot of the bed. He tossed his shirt to the floor and his jeans were off in a blur of movement, lowering himself to his knees on the bed at my feet, staring down at the cover.

“Stefan?”

His face lifted up and the look he gave me was one I’d never seen before. His handsome face was stripped bare, no arrogance or age marring his smooth features. His was wide eyed as our eyes met, shocked at my admission. He looked impossibly young...and pure.

Slowly crawling to meet him, I sat in front of him, reaching out to carefully run my hands over his broad chest, my fingers caressing his pale pink nipples and stroking over the rippled muscles of his abdomen, his body jerking from my touch. He swallowed roughly and the corner of his mouth twitched.

“Josephine,” he whispered harshly. “You were made for me.”

My hands froze in place, afraid to move. I glanced up at him through my eyelashes, my breathing shallow. He hadn’t moved, he was simply watching me.

I nodded and smiled. My hands were still, waiting for his permission to continue. “You were saved for me.”