“Sebastián,” I whispered, not wanting to jar him awake when he was clearly trapped in a nightmare. His muscles twitched, but he didn’t wake. I gave his shoulder a gentle shake.
His eyes flew open, and his teeth bared on a beastly snarl. He rolled his weight atop me, pinning me down to the mattress. His big hand closed around my throat, and I thrashed as his thick fingers squeezed my neck. Terror bloomed in my chest, and I grasped at his wrist, desperately trying to push him away. He growled and lowered his face to mine, until I could feel his heaving breaths fanning my cheeks.
“Sebastián!” I gasped, struggling to draw in air.
He blinked, and the aggression melted from his hard features. His dark eyes flashed in the moonlight, and his mouth twisted with regret.
He petted my hair, running his fingers through the raven strands as he stared into my eyes. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
A tremor raced through my body. “You scared me,” I breathed, scarcely daring to move in case it triggered him again.
He blinked again, and his brow furrowed. “Isabel?” he rasped.
“Please, let me go.” My voice was little more than a whisper. He was still pinning me down. His hand still rested on my throat, even though he was no longer applying pressure.
His jaw went slack for a moment, then his teeth clicked together. He gritted out a curse and rolled off me, stumbling to his feet and staggering back as though I was the dangerous one.
He ran a shaking hand over his silver beard. “Fuck. I’m sorry, Isabel. I shouldn’t be in here. This was a mistake.” He raked his fingers through his wavy hair and barked another curse. I jumped, still jittery from his aggression.
For the first time, I took him in fully. He was naked except for his boxers, his powerful body on display. His abs and chest flexed and rippled with some unseen strain, and his hands curled to fists at his sides. His eyes were deep, dark pools, and his lips turned down in a scowl.
“I’m sorry,” he said again before he turned on his heel and stalked toward the door.
I simply laid there, frozen and speechless from the dizzying turn of events. The door snapped closed between us, a barrier between the beast and me.
I released a shuddering breath, and the corners of my eyes stung. I didn’t understand what’d just happened, but I was deeply shaken. His hand had been around my throat. And his body… He was so much stronger than me. He could easily break me.
I hugged my arms around my middle and drew my knees close to my chest. I didn’t understand my mercurial husband at all. He’d given me so much pleasure, and afterward, he’d been achingly tender with me. For a little while, I’d forgotten just how dangerous he was.
When we’d been in the aviary, he’d sworn to protect me. But no one could keep me safe from him.
CHAPTER 17
SEBASTIÁN
I scrubbed the blood from beneath my fingernails and tried not to think about the terrible dream that’d surfaced again last night: the nightmare that’d tormented me for more than three decades. Even after all this time, I still couldn’t shake the darkness of my years on the farm.
And Isabel… I’d terrified her. I’d assaulted her.
The memory of those wide, fearful eyes stabbed me in the heart. When I’d started coming to my senses, I hadn’t seen my young bride trembling beneath me. I’d seen her. Maria. My other recurring nightmare.
I scowled at the rust-red color that stained my weathered hands and scrubbed harder, determined to get all the blood off me before I went into the dining room. I’d taken things a little further than necessary when carrying out my questioning at the warehouse today. Someone had been skimming product from our shipments, and it was my job to make sure every gram of cocaine was accounted for before we sent it on to America. My frustration with my personal life had put me in a sour mood, and I’d ended the thief’s life too quickly. I suspected he had an accomplice, and now I’d killed my only lead.
My hands were turning red beneath the scouring hot water, and I finally withdrew from the burn. Scrubbing my skin raw wouldn’t bring the dead man back for further questioning. It wouldn’t undo the fact that I’d hurt Isabel last night, my delicate wife who was so frightened of abusive men.
A curse dropped from my lips, and I left the bathroom sink to go looking for her. After spending the last several weeks learning—and avoiding—her routine, I knew that she’d be eating dinner soon. I would have to face her. I owed her an apology.
I found her in the dining room, waiting for the chef to bring her meal. She looked even smaller and more fragile than usual, sitting alone at the massive mahogany table. She’d lost her entire family and most of her friends.