“You had a nightmare,” I say.
Ariana’s off the bed, and she doesn’t stop until her back slams into the wall.
The expression on her face grinds at me, and where it only annoyed me when I kidnapped her, it now upsets the fuck out of me.
I don’t want her looking at me with fear.
Before I can think things through, I move around the bed. Ariana makes a strangled noise when I get close to her, pushing her body hard against the wall as if she’s trying to escape through it.
Lifting my hands, I frame her face and say, “It was just a nightmare. You’re safe.”
Her eyes are feverish as they flit over my face. I watch as everything from terror to hopelessness flashes over her features.
“Shh… it’s okay,” I say, hoping to calm her down. Leaning into her, I lock eyes with her. “It was just a nightmare.”
She takes a couple of deep breaths, her expression wary, and then she whispers, “You-you stabbed me.”
I shake my head and gently brush the wild strands of her hair out of her face. “It was just a nightmare. You’re safe.”
For a moment, she just stares at me, and slowly the atmosphere begins to change from her terror tainting the air to something intimate growing between us.
Suddenly the trembling in her body begins to increase, and then she gives me a desperate look.
And my iron-clad self-control slips.
I tug her against my chest and engulf her in a tight hug. “I’d never hurt you. You’re safe with me.”
To my surprise, Ariana wraps her arms around my waist. Her breaths warm my shirt as she gasps, “I want to believe you so badly.”
“We’ll hear from your father soon,” I try to offer her some reassurance.
“What if you don’t hear from him?” she asks, her hold on me tightening.
For the first time, I make a promise, not out of loyalty but because I want to. “I’ll still keep you safe until the problem’s been dealt with.”
Lowering my head, my mouth skims over her temple. Slowly Ariana lifts her head, and when our eyes lock, the most intense attraction I’ve ever felt tightens every muscle in my body.
“I’ll do everything in my power to keep you safe.”
I watch as her doubt and desperation change into something akin to hope, and for once, Ariana doesn’t look at me like I’m her enemy.
Hope softens her eyes until I’m a second away from slamming my mouth against hers, but luckily my self-control wins, and I quickly pull back. The last thing I want to do is fuck up the meager ground I’ve managed to gain with her.
I walk to the door when all I want to do is rip off her clothes and make her forget about the nightmare.
“Come downstairs. I’ll make coffee,” I mutter before I step out of the bedroom.
Heading to the kitchen, I shake my head at myself. I always wondered how my brother fell so quickly for Winter. Now I’m starting to understand. I’ve watched Ariana for a week, and I’m already becoming possessive of her.
Another week like this, and I’ll be fucked.
I begin to prepare two cups of coffee while I try to figure out if this is just normal attraction I’m feeling for Ariana or more.
I’m pouring creamer into the cups when I hear her come down the stairs. When I carry the cups to the living room, she sits down on the couch she’s claimed for herself.
ARIANA
Demitri hands me a cup of steaming coffee, and then instead of going to sit on the other couch, he drops down beside me.
With my emotions intensified by the remnants of the nightmare, I can’t focus on anything long enough to make sense of things.
It was the weirdest dream I’ve ever had. It started out with the insanely intense attraction between Demitri and me. Things got steamy, then he pulled out a knife, and with an evil grin, he started to stab me.
Shivers rush over my skin, making my body tremble hard.
Suddenly Demitri gets up, and I instinctively flinch away from him. He heads back up the stairs and, a minute later, returns with a blanket.
I keep my eyes lowered as he places the blanket over my lower half. The sudden kindness only messes more with my emotions.
Demitri switches on the TV and then presses play on where I last left off with Vampire Diaries. His demeanor is relaxed as he sips on his coffee, which reminds me of my own beverage. I take a sip and swallow hard on the liquid.
The nightmare keeps flitting through my mind, and I end up staring at the coffee table, trying to process the chaotic mess it left in my chest.
“Want to talk about it?” Demitri asks, his tone soft instead of the usual briskness.
I shake my head, and unable to force the coffee down, I place the cup on the table.