Page 50 of Whispers in the Dark
The one reminding me that this is all an illusion.
One that will be ending sooner rather than later.
Internally shaking my head, I reach for the gauze and gently wrap it around his arm. When I finish, I take a breath and step back.
Mauro’s fingers find my hand, and he holds it between us, concern etched across his chiseled face as he watches a tremor wash over me.
“I’m okay. Just the adrenaline wearing off.”
He doesn’t look convinced, but instead of pushing me, he drops my hand and reaches for the book on the table. The current romance I was getting swept away in before he arrived.
He arches a brow as he holds it out between us as if asking what this is.
“That’s one of my favorites,” I tell him, a smile gracing my lips. “It was my mother’s copy. My father told me she left it for me.” I take it from him, opening to the page where I left my bookmark. I remove it, holding it between us. “Along with a list of all of her favorites.” I gaze at the folded piece of paper with the Lire C’est La Vie emblem at the top, a small bookshop in Paris. “It’s always been one of my dreams to read them all. I know it probably sounds silly, but each time I read one, I feel like my mom is with me.” I lift a shoulder. “My only problem is, I can’t seem to find a copy of her number one favorite,One Night Between Us, since it’s out of print.” I’ve hunted high and low, near and far. In every library and bookshop I’ve seen. There have even been a few people who’ve gone so far as to laugh in my face when I told them what I was searching for, not knowing it was now considered a rare book collector’s treasure. “Maybe someday.”
He regards me with an intensity in his eyes, causing me to hug the book to my chest carefully. “I was rambling. Sorry, I didn’t mean—”
“Read.” The word floats between us, the sound of his voice, sending a pleasant shiver over me.
“You want me to read to you?”
He nods.
I find the place where I last stopped. The place where I’m sure the woman was about to meet the monster that haunts the woods. “I don’t think you’ll particularly like this one. There’s a lot of romance in it. It’s a darker retelling ofBeauty and the Beast.”
He shrugs, indicating it makes no difference to him.
“You’ve been warned.” I step away to take a seat on the couch, but his fingers encircle my wrist, stopping me. Looking at me, he leans back and then glances down at his lap.
I swallow hard, feeling a flush cover my cheeks, but I don’t hesitate as I make myself comfortable on his thighs, his left armcoming up around my shoulders. Placing my head against his bare chest, I realize how perfectly we fit together.
Like two puzzle pieces carved from the same piece of wood.
Mauro snags the blanket that hangs over the back and places it across the two of us.
Taking a breath, I open the book and begin to read.
“Her breath came out in quick pants as she tightened her cloak around herself, her eyes darting between the trees. Suddenly, a dark shadow appeared at the edge of the woods, her heart beating wildly in fear of the monster before her. But the monster was not a beast with claws and fangs like she had been told by so many. But a man. One who appeared transfixed by her, keeping a distance. As if under an enchantment, she took a step toward him, only for him to take off into the woods, disappearing into the darkness. And she wondered then if she really had seen him or if it was all a dream.”
Peeking up, I find Mauro’s eyes closed and his face appearing more relaxed than I’ve ever seen before.
I never dreamed I’d be here, in his lap, spending my night reading to him. It seemed too good to be true that even I didn’t allow myself the fantasy of this moment.
But here I am.
Living a life I’ve only ever read about.
I only wish it wasn’t going to end.
I snuggle against him a little closer, melting into his strength, and continue to read until I’m no longer able to keep my eyes open.
Chapter twelve
Mauro
Iraise my hand, ready to push the door open, but stop mid-air when I hear raised voices.
“Be serious, Alex. You can’t just kidnap her,” Vin tells him with his usual air of authority in his tone. “She’s not some random woman off the streets. Everyone knows who she is.”
