Grayson's Vow

But I couldn't help it. I wanted to put that bright light back in her eyes, to comfort her, see that witchy little dimple. I leaned my head back and let out a groan. This would never work. I had to rein myself in. None of that was my job. We had started this marriage as a business arrangement and even if we gave in to our attraction to one another, it had to remain on those terms. We were married—our relationship had to be all or nothing. We couldn't wade into the murkiness of something that couldn't be defined. It wouldn't end well for either of us. Knowing about Rosa Maria and her father, I had a little more understanding about her hesitance to get involved with me. She probably saw a physical relationship between us as little more than what they'd had. Was it?

Confusion swirled within me. Perhaps I should abandon the idea of satisfying my physical need for her now that I could admit there was more involved than just sexual desire, now that I could admit I cared about her as a person. But for some reason I lost control around her and all my best intentions went by the wayside. Every time. And I still couldn't understand exactly why. What was it about her that unbalanced me so much?

What I did know? Kira was in the same hotel suite and maybe she needed company. Maybe she needed me. Or maybe I was just hoping she did.

After looking over the room service menu and putting in an order to be delivered to our suite, I knocked on the door to her bedroom. She answered wearing a pair of jeans and a black top, her feet bare and her hair still partially wet. Her face was free of makeup and she looked very beautiful and very young. Of course, she was very young, only twenty-two. I didn't think about her age very often, perhaps because sometimes she acted like a naughty child, and sometimes she seemed so very wise. And of course, those glimpses of depth and insight had only served to make her more interesting to me. Intriguing little witch. I entered, inhaling the light flowery scent that was hers.

"Hi," she said, eyeing me suspiciously.

I walked into her room without being invited. "I took the liberty of ordering dinner for us. I know you like Charlotte's beef stroganoff. I'm sure the chef here isn't nearly as good as Charlotte, but . . ." I shrugged. Kira looked slightly unsure, but then let out a breath, obviously acquiescing.

"That sounds good. Thank you. Although I might not be the best company."

She turned and walked back toward the balcony where she stood looking out over the city. I joined her, leaning my forearms on the metal rail and looking over at her. She looked away, tilting her chin down as if attempting to hide her face from me.

"Hey," I said gently, standing up straight and turning toward her. I used my fingers to nudge her chin toward me. Her eyes were shining with unshed tears. She sucked in a sharp breath, a tiny sob coming up her throat. A bolt of protectiveness speared through me and I pulled her into my arms, tucking her head under my chin. "Shh," I said, "it's okay." My throat felt tight as her body tensed in my arms, like she didn't know how to be held. God, growing up with no mother and a father like that, she probably didn't. I had only slightly more to draw upon, but enough to take the lead.

"Kira," I whispered, "relax. Let me hold you, sweetheart." She struggled weakly for a brief moment, but when I tightened my arms around her, she sagged into me and gave way to her tears.

Kira sobbed in my arms, her face buried in my chest for a long while. My gut tensed with pain as I bore witness to her misery. Finally, her sobs began to abate, and she raised her face to me. The tenderness that pulsed in my chest was unlike anything I'd ever felt before. It vaguely concerned me, but I pushed my feelings aside and brushed my thumb across Kira's soft cheek, wiping away the wetness of her tears. She blinked, looking slightly confused, but relieved as well. I smoothed her hair back from her face. "It's okay," I said, "I'm here."

"Said The Dragon to the witch," she said softly, a small twinkle in her still-teary eyes. I laughed.

"There's my girl." She smiled softly and pulled away. My arms suddenly felt very empty. Kira sagged down onto one of the plastic balcony chairs and I sat down in the other one, a small plastic table between us.

Mia Sheridan's books