For a while when the shit had hit the fan, Dragos had been her center, her one stable point. Odd, but she had been okay with all the danger and uncertainty that surrounded them. Here Dragos was part of everything else—unpredictable and unknown.
She had moments of clarity when she felt she was connected to him in a way that went deeper than either of them comprehended. She felt like she understood him better than he understood himself.
Then all the certainty slid away and she was left clutching at air. When that happened, she felt fractured inside. Maybe she was the kaleidoscope, breaking and re-forming. Maybe she was part of everything else that was unpredictable and unknown.
He was beyond splendid. He made her breath catch and her heart race, her temper flare and her sense of humor sharpen. He had her sexuality dancing for joy.
He wanted her to trust him, but how could she trust someone she didn’t understand?
How could she love someone who admitted he didn’t even know what love was, who claimed her as his possession, and who was capable of almost killing his oldest, most trusted ally and friend?
Wait a minute. She didn’t just think that, did she?
Well, it wasn’t true. She was suffering from a supersized value meal of Stockholm syndrome. She would admit to having a mouthwatering crazy going-on for him. Heh, not like she could deny that at this late stage. But she would not admit to the L word.
Oh God.
She wanted to go home, but she didn’t have a home. Her apartment wasn’t hers anymore. It might be let to someone else already. Even if it wasn’t, she was afraid that if she were able to step back inside that space, she would find it was cramped and too small and just as alien as everything else had become in her life.
The shower stall opened. She started and shrank back, covering her breasts in a reflexive gesture, as Dragos stepped in fully clothed.
He knelt in front of her, gripping the bench on either side of her thighs. The severe lines of his face and muscled body were drenched in moments, the gold of his eyes shadowed. She plucked at the collar of his soaked T-shirt and sighed. “What are you doing?”
“You’ve been crying again,” he said. “Why?”
She chuckled, a small, hollow sound. “Hard day, I guess.”
“Don’t deflect,” he said. “Tell me why.”
“What if I don’t want to,” she snapped.
“Tough,” he told her. He took hold of her shoulders and drew her into his arms. “You have to tell me so I can learn not to do whatever it is I did.”
Damn him. How could he end up saying the exact right thing just when she needed it most?
“Who said it was you? I already told you, everything’s getting to me.” She tucked her face into his neck and nuzzled, reveling in his warm, wet skin.
“Still deflecting,” he said. He reached for a bottle of herbal scented body wash, squirted some into a palm and began to massage her neck and shoulders. “You were having a good time with the gryphons. It was me.”
“We weren’t always having a good time,” she grumbled. She bit back a moan at how good his hands felt as he dug into tired muscles. “I’ve had to exert a great deal of my considerable charm on them these past few days.”
His chest moved in a silent chuckle. His fingers roamed the pale violin shape of her back, trailing suds. He paused and said in a dark tone, “You have a hell of a bruise on your shoulder.”
“Don’t even start that with me,” she said. She rubbed his back. “After all my hard work we did end up getting along pretty well today. I’ll have you know I was having a perfectly splendid time mopping the floor with them when you broke the party up.”
He pulled back and stood to strip off his sodden clothes and fling them into one corner. She stared at the sleek strong lines of his nude body and her heart started to pound. She couldn’t deal with the strength of her reaction to him right now. She averted her gaze.
He sat on the bench and picked her up. She tried to pull away. “Dragos, don’t. I can’t.”
“Hush. Trust me.”
He put her on his lap and tugged her around so that she was facing him. Then he leaned back against the wall, wrapped his arms around her, laid his head on her shoulder and just held her. She laid her head on his shoulder too, and he rocked her.
He said, “Take it off.”
“You’re such a pain in the ass.” She sighed, removing the dampening spell.
“I know.” He pressed a kiss to her clavicle.
His erection pressed between them, but he made no sexual moves. She sniffled as warmth and comfort stole through her limbs. “And I’m such a wuss.”
“So speaks the young lady who Rune said tossed four of my toughest fighters around like throw pillows,” he said. He squirted shampoo on top of her head and lathered her hair. “I frightened you again, didn’t I?”