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Annalise balked. “What? All this and you’re suddenly going to let me just walk out the door?” What the fuck was going on? “This has to be a dream.”
“It feels more like a nightmare,” he said, in a voice so defeated she stilled, one foot already on the ground.
She glanced over her shoulder. His hands folded across his broad chest, fingers entwined as he stared at the ceiling. His jaw ticked with tension and his brow furrowed.
It wasn’t fair for him to make her feel guilty when he was the one who brought her here against her will. Was this how Stockholm syndrome started?
She forced her other foot to the ground, but found it impossible to stand. Damn it. What was wrong with her? This was her chance. Her freedom.
Move your ass, Anna!
She looked back at him again and an inexplicable ache formed in her chest. No! She would not take pity on him. She was not that girl!
She swallowed against a lump in her throat and stood. He wouldn’t look at her.
She glanced at the door. Should she just go? How far would she get? Her fingers brushed the knob and she hesitated.
The pitch-black sky would make it impossible to see. Without her phone, she had no clue which direction was home. Back roads would form a labyrinth and she didn’t have shoes or clothes.
She was making excuses.
This was what she wanted. She’d finally worn him down. So what the hell was this wretched ache in her chest anchoring her to this unending nightmare?
“Adam?”
When he didn’t answer, she approached the bed. Looking down, she read the stricken expression that tightened the skin around his eyes and mouth. She shouldn’t care. He kidnapped her.
But when his gaze turned to her she sucked in a breath, suffering his sadness as if it were her own. In an almost spiritual jolt, she took a clipped step back.
The sensation wouldn’t break. It knifed through her. Hopeless surrender. Defeated optimism. Grieving faith.
She’d only felt something similar to it once before in her life. It had been a pain so acute and damaging, so irreversibly sad she had no idea how she’d ever survive it. That had been the day her mother died.
It made absolutely no sense why she’d feel something similar now. But these weren’t her feelings. They were his. As if a valve had turned, they flowed into her, battering her insides and triggering an excruciating wave of empathy.
Her hand pressed to her chest. “I ... feel your pain. How is that possible?”
He shut his eyes and the connection severed. She wobbled back a step and caught her breath.
“What was that?”
“A slip. I apologize. My faculties aren’t what they usually are.”
She frowned, not understanding his meaning. “But I felt you. How could you feel so much when we don’t even know each other?”
“You haven’t been listening, Anna. Our souls were made as one, divided and lost until now. I’ve been trying to explain it to you, but you’ve been too angry to listen.”
She frowned. “But you haven’t explained anything. No one has. Everyone just keeps telling me to trust you.”
“And so you should,” he snapped, eyes hard. His brow softened. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to lose my temper, but I never expected this amount of complication. I did everything I was told, but even when you hand over the reins I feel you fighting me. You have the nature of an unbroken mare.”
She scrunched her face. “I could do without the comparison to farm animals.”
“Do you see? Even now, you make jokes.”
“Adam, I make jokes so I don’t cry. Believe me, nothing about this is funny.”
He exhaled and scrubbed his face with his palms. “I’m running out of time.”
“Time for what?”
He looked up at her and the sharp sorrow was back, stealing her breath. She had no power here, yet he suddenly seemed the fragile one.
“Adam, tell me what you’re hiding. You want my honesty? Earn it. Be honest with me first.”
“I’m dying.”
His words pierced whatever fantasy protected her and her entire existence jerked with sharp awareness. As if an umbrella had been sheltering her all this time, she was suddenly doused with truth. And without knowing why, she felt a strange tie to his mortality, as if responsible for his life or his death.
“Have you seen a doctor?”
“There’s nothing to be done.”
That couldn’t be true. He just didn’t understand the advanced technologies available. “Adam, there are great hospitals out there.”
“They can’t help me.”
And he called her stubborn? “How do you know? Have you tried visiting an actual doctor?”
When he didn’t respond, she grabbed his arm, which was heavier than expected. She pulled him, but he hardly moved. “Get up. We can take you somewhere tonight.”
“Why the sudden concern?”
“Because you’re sick.” She blamed the Hippocratic Oath. “I took a vow to use every ability I possess to help the sick, and right now my best judgment is telling me to get you examined by an experienced doctor. So get up.”
He shifted, draping his legs over the side of the bed, but not standing. He stared at the floor.
“Why are you just sitting there?”
“Is it only an oath that binds you to help me?”
She rolled her eyes. “Does it really matter?”
“Yes, it matters.”
Her lips pressed tight. She didn’t want to admit the truth, but she also didn’t want to lie. “Fine. No. I want to help you. Call me crazy, but I think there might be some redeeming qualities in you.”
He looked up at her, his eyes peeking through loose strands of golden hair, and he smiled.
She looked away. “Don’t smile at me like that.”
“But you made me happy.”
“My only intention is to make you well.”
He caught her hand and brought it to his chest. Her breath hitched as a deluge of emotion poured into her, so fast and vast it tore down her walls and obliterated her defenses. She tried to pull back her hand, but his strength outmatched hers.
“Do you feel it?”
The sharp ache raced up her arm as he stared up at her with pleading eyes. “Let go, Adam. You’re scaring me.”
“Tell me what you feel.”
“Pain. Agony. Fear.” Untethering impulses barely contained, clawing to break free. He was fighting to maintain control and the battle was killing him.
“You can take it all away, Anna. Only you.”
“That’s not real, Adam. That isn’t how healing works.”
His hand tightened on hers, the rapid pounding of his heart thundering against her palm. “This is as real as it gets, Annalise. You can fix me. My soul knows yours. And if you let down your guard and trust that I’ll watch over you and protect you from harm, you’ll see that your soul recognizes mine, as well.”
Her head shook, her mind rejecting anything that stood on a foundation of blind faith. Love and hope didn’t fix people. Doctors did. And sometimes even they couldn’t.
“Please just let me take you to a hospital.”
She didn’t know why she was so upset. It was too familiar. Too bizarre.
“There’s so much cynicism in you, ainsicht. Why?”
She didn’t want to talk about this. “I’m sure there’s an ER nearby. I promise I won’t try to run.”
“Tell me what happened to you. Why are you so distrustful and angry with the world?”
Maybe he could feel her the way she felt him. “Let go.”
“You asked me for truth, and I gave it to you. Return the favor. Tell me who hurt you.”
Visions of falling to her knees at her mother’s grave and beating the loosened earth with her fists as she cursed her life flashed through her mind. She’d had one person in this world and He took her from her.
Her vision blurred, a solid lump forming in her throat. “This isn’t real. It’s just a dream.”
“We’re not dreaming anymore, ainsicht. I promise, this is real.”
“I want to wake up.” A tear tripped down her cheek.
“Tell me who hurt you. If this is just a dream, there aren’t any real consequences.”
Sucking in a jagged breath, she tried to deny her pain, but his overwhelmed her, making her weak and vulnerable. More tears fell. “God.”
His face paled. “God?”
She nodded and swiped at her eyes with shaky fingers. “So when you sit here and tell me all of this is happening because of some entity I despise, pardon me if I don’t want to believe you. God is cruel, Adam. The universe is unkind. And we’re only here for a fleeting second in time.”
“That’s not true.”
“How do you know?”
“I know.”
“How?” she snapped. “Have you ever lost someone? Have you ever suffered a loneliness so deep that you’d consider giving yourself to a complete stranger just to pretend for a second you’re not all alone in a world filled with over seven billion people?”
“You’re not alone, Anna.”
“I’ve been alone since I lost my mother.”
“No, ainsicht, God has a plan for you.”
“That’s right. I’m here with you, a stranger.”
He pressed his hand to her heart, mirroring the way her hand rested against his. Warmth tunneled through her and the knot in her chest loosened. “I’m not a stranger,” he whispered.
Déjà vu filled her and her senses opened wide. If it were possible, she felt more of him, possibly all of him. It wasn’t an intrusion. The presence felt familiar.
He pulled her closer, gentling her like the wild horse that needs a soft touch. “Do not cry.” His fingers feathered across her cheek, catching her tears. “Let me take the pain. Give it to me, Anna.”
She didn’t know what was happening. Their emotions flooded back and forth, mixing until every thought and feeling felt lighter, shared, and somehow easier to bear.
His lips pressed to her temple as he pulled her deeper onto his lap. She recognized the scent of his skin, the soft weight of his lips, and the pulling ache in her heart. It was as if he’d kissed her a thousand times before.
This was their dream—one of them. Sitting in the shadows, overwhelmed by the unchangeable truths and seeking shelter in each other. It made no sense at all, yet a sense of rightness blanketed her.
Warm lips trailed across her damp lashes, pressing kisses to her eyes. “I have you,” he whispered. “I’ll protect you.”
Her gaze lifted, her face angling closer. He was so beautiful, so different from anyone else she’d ever met.
She leaned in, her heart tripping with uncertainty and her curiosity guiding her more than her courage. He didn’t close the distance, but waited for her.
Soft, like the petal of a flower, her lips traced over his. Desire coiled in her belly. Her fingers sifted through his silky hair, pulling him closer. “Kiss me, Adam.”
His eyes watched her closely, his fingers tracing the column of her throat where her pulse thundered. “Close your eyes.”
Her lashes lowered and he caught the back of her head, the hand on her hip jerking her closer as he angled her face. His lips sealed over hers with more intention than any kiss should own. His lips were firm, demanding, and he consumed her with his mouth, his tongue laying claim to parts of her without even touching her naked flesh.
When he pulled away, she panted and blinked up at him. “Why do I feel like I’ve kissed you a million times before?”
“Perhaps it’s the universe telling you we’ll kiss a million times again.”
Her mouth hooked in a half smile. If they were kisses like that, she might not object.
Her brow furrowed as she considered how close they were. She looked down and he caught her chin, giving her a stern look.
“Don’t come to your senses just yet.” He fisted the fabric of her gown and yanked her forward, pressing his lips to hers.
She twisted, climbing to her knees and straddling his lap. Her thighs encased his and while he still wore his pants, she wore nothing beneath the thin gown.
His hand gripped her nightgown, pulling the fabric taut as he nudged her closer. His arousal pressed to her core and she gasped.
He used her surprise to deepen the kiss, driving his tongue deep and sweeping over hers in a coaxing game. He tasted extraordinary, sweet, drugging, and potent. She wanted more of him.
Tightening her arms around his broad shoulders, she rocked her hips. His indisputable masculinity emphasized the delicate feminine traits of hers.
He eased her to the bed, his body covering hers as their kisses intensified, stirring a deep hunger in her she wasn’t sure even sex would satisfy. His body ground into hers.
Her fingers knotted in his hair as her body lifted against his, grinding, greedily stealing every inch of friction she could feel.
“More,” she whispered, teasingly biting and nipping at his mouth.
He growled and pinned her with his weight, digging his erection against her core and dropping his mouth to her shoulder. He panted against her ear, his tongue licking and teasing.
“Yes,” she breathed, stretching her neck and angling it closer for his wicked mouth.
He tore his mouth away, turning his face into her shoulder. Everything stilled except their heavy breathing. He no longer kissed her but still held her pinned beneath him.
“Adam?”
His breath caressed her shoulder as his body trembled against hers. She touched her fingers to his spine.
“Is everything all right?”
He practically preened into her touch like a cat. “I nearly lost control.”
She frowned. Her gown raveled around her hips, leaving her sex exposed. The only thing barring his erection from entering her was the panel of his pants.
“Maybe we both did.”
He slowly sat up, drawing the material of her nightgown over her thighs. She drew her knees together as he draped his legs over the edge of the bed. He wouldn’t look at her, his hand covering his mouth and his eyes closed.
“Are you upset?” He looked as if he couldn’t bear the thought of what they’d just done.
“I need a moment to find my bearings.” His face angled away.
She wasn’t sure what this was or why he suddenly couldn’t look at her, but it felt an awful lot like rejection. “I thought you wanted to.”
He noticeably stiffened. “If you trust one thing, Anna, trust that I do and will want you for as long as I live.”
“Then why won’t you look at me?”
“Because I think the day has taken a toll on you and I don’t want to make it worse.” He dragged a hand over his face, letting out a shaky breath. “I’m better now.”
She continued to frown. “Better?”
“You push my control.”
She didn’t know if that was a compliment. “Sorry?”
He sighed and glanced at the door. “Stay the night with me, not because you can’t find your way home in the dark or because you feel like a prisoner here, but because you want to.”
“You’d really let me leave?”
“If that’s what you truly wanted, I wouldn’t stop you.”
Somehow knowing she had the freedom to leave made staying less frustrating. If she could just walk out the door, she’d rather do it in daylight. “If I stay, will we...”
His chest expanded. “I want it to mean as much to you as it does to me.”
Her lips twisted. “I’m not—”
“I know. Which is another reason why I stopped.”
Now that she felt less like a hostage, she saw a bit of that honor everyone claimed he had. “It would be really great if you actually were a good guy.”
He smiled. “I plan on spending the rest of my life proving that to you.”
She was undecided if she’d leave tomorrow or stay a few days, but she liked this side of him. “I’ll stay tonight.”
His hand reached for hers and squeezed. “That makes the fear of thinking you might leave worth the worry. I prefer you to be here of your own free will.”
That made two of them.