Страница 243 из 349
Through the heavy rush of adrenaline and the rapid heartbeat, my stomach still has the ability to grumble at the thought of food.
God, I’m starving.
“Come on.” He turns, leading the way toward the house.
I don’t want to follow. I shouldn’t.
My head tells me to go back into the darkness and learn to live with the wildlife, while my aching limbs, tired bones, and hollow stomach encourage my feet to inch forward.
I can’t stay strong without food. I need fresh water, otherwise my health will deteriorate quickly.
He walks through the open glass doors, the sheer curtain gently billowing around him as I tag a few feet behind.
I’m blinded by the lighting. Every lamp has been switched on. Every overhead glistening halogen beams down with a warm glow. Did they leave them on for me?
“What do you want to eat?” Luca starts toward the kitchen. “There’s leftover tacos. Or fruit. Chocolate. Cake. You name it.”
“No.” My mouth would salivate over week-old bread at the moment. But sustenance needs to wait. “I want to see Cole first.”
If he’s asleep, he needs to wake to the sight of me. I have to see his instinctual emotion, the sleep-roughened truth, before he can hide it behind lies.
Luca nods and diverts his path, continuing toward the start of the hall I’d walked down earlier. I hustle to keep up, my feet begi
He flicks on another light, and this time I’m prepared. My sight rapidly adjusts and I can see the large length of space stretched out before me, the overbearing art lining the walls.
I’m led right to the very end, to a lone closed door.
“He’s in here?” I stop a few feet away, still needing space.
“Yeah. Just knock to wake him.”
I ignore the instruction and snatch at the handle, pushing the door wide.
Light invades the darkened room, highlighting a monstrous four-poster bed and an equally monstrous man snapping upright from beneath the covers. Shirtless.
I’m stu
Speechless.
A mass of chest, stomach, and arm muscles are on display. Thick muscles I never would’ve expected hidden beneath those expensive suits he always wears.
I knew his mind was lethal, but the strength laid out before me proves his body is, too. All this time I thought he liked to flaunt his strength when the reality now seems far different. He’s hidden his capabilities. At least his physical ones.
I don’t wait for him to invite me in.
I stalk forward, reaching the bottom corner of the bed before he’s had time to blink away sleep. He’s an entirely different man with his hair mussed and eyes squinted. I could be fooled into thinking he has vulnerabilities when I see him like this.
“Why am I here?” I grip the elegantly carved wooden pole holding up the canopy. “I need to know the point of all this?”
He quickly wins the battle to wake up, the docile expression transforming to a frown as his attention treks over my face. My blouse. My arms.
There’s no anger or spite in his features. His animosity isn’t evident. All that stares back at me is concern.
“What’s going on?” he demands. “What happened?”
“Nothing—”
“I heard her scream,” Luca interrupts from the door. “She came ru
I clench my teeth against the pathetic truth, and tell myself their opinion doesn’t matter. They can believe what they like about me. I’ll happily prove them wrong.
In fact, it’s better if they start to think I’m weak.
“Thanks,” Cole directs toward Luca, but his eyes never stray from mine. “Go to bed. I can handle this from here.”
There’s no reply. Not in words. The light pad of retreating footsteps are the only response, the sound quickly fading to leave us alone in silence.
“Go to the kitchen.” He swings his legs to the side of the bed and grabs the covers, poised to fling them away. “I’ll meet you there in a minute.”
I don’t move. I’m not willing to let him out of my sight. If he’s going to grab a weapon, I want to know where he retrieves it from. I’m done with being clueless. “I’ll wait.”
“Suit yourself.” He throws back the quilt and shoves to his feet, exposing an entirely naked ass.
“Holy shit.” I avert my gaze as heat not only floods my cheeks, but my entire body. “You could’ve warned me.”
“I did. Forgive me for being subtle.”
There isn’t a damn thing subtle about that sculpted body.
Not a damn thing.
Every inch of him is toned. Calves. Thighs. Hips.
He pulls on a pair of jeans, the thrust and tug of legs and arms visible in my periphery. “Let’s get you some food.” He strides for the door and treks his hands through his hair, regaining some of his air of perfection.
“I want answers first.” I tag along after him. “Food can wait.”
“You can have both at the same time.”
He flicks off the hall light as we enter the main room, and stalks straight for the fridge. He pulls out container after container, placing them on the island counter, before returning to grab a jug of water and a bottle of juice. “Help yourself.”
I lift the offerings, glancing inside the plastic tubs to inspect the contents while he grabs a plate and a glass from a nearby cupboard to sit them in front of me.
“Juice or water?” He places a hand on both jugs, waiting.
It still doesn’t feel right to accept anything from him. Even a simple glass of OJ seems like a bribe, but I can’t be stubborn a moment longer.
“Water.”
He lifts the jug and begins to pour as if he’s entirely at home. “You were outside a long time. I thought you would’ve succumbed earlier when you needed to make use of the facilities.”
I glare. “I made do.” I had to resort to squatting against a tree and using leaves instead of toilet paper.
He doesn’t laugh, but I see the mirth in his eyes.
Asshole.
I reach for the closest container and prepare to open the taco mince, only to wince at the protest from my shoulder. It throbs with the movement, letting me know a wicked bruise will be waiting for me if I ever get the chance to look at myself in a mirror again.
“You’re hurt.” Cole dumps the jug on the counter and stalks around the island toward me. “What happened?”
“Nothing.” I backtrack, staying out of reach until he stops.
“Anissa.” I’m not sure if my name is a plea or a warning as he wipes a rough hand through his hair. He’s the picture of exhausted frustration. “Tell me what happened. If you’re hurt, I can arrange for a doctor to see you.”
A doctor?
Hope distracts me from the pain.
I analyze his tone, his features, his…everything. Is the kindness a ploy? A tactic?
“I tripped and landed awkwardly. I strained or pulled a muscle in my shoulder.”
“Show me,” he demands.
“Like hell.”
He might be eager to flaunt his nudity, but that shit isn’t mutual.
“I’m not asking for a lap dance. I only want to take a look at your shoulder.” A
“It’s nothing.” Nothing that will have me stripping in front of him, anyway. “Can you please just let me eat?”
His jaw tics, and he takes a few steps back to snatch the container from the counter. “I’ll do it for you.” He pops the lid and places the taco mince in the microwave, the spiced scent filling the air in seconds and sending my stomach into an unending loop of somersaults.