Page 42 of When She Tempts (The Fallen)
The rain drowns out my cries, relentless and uncaring about the misery it brings. What I wouldn’t do to erase the past, to wipe it away like condensation on the bathroom mirror. But there is no trick for that.
Maybe the only way to get past the pain is through it. I haven’t allowed myself to feel much of anything since Imogen died, and the feelings have been accumulating. The more I put them off, the stronger they’ll grow. Even now, their power makes me cower. My chest shakes with sobs, and I fear it might cave in.
The side lamp turns on, and the bed dips.
I startle and shove myself into the corner of the bed as I meet a pair of azure eyes.
Giorgio observes me, a deep line etched between his thick brows. “I heard you crying.”
I wipe my cheeks with the back of my hand, my gaze snapping to the window.
His own follows.
He stares at it for a while. “You don’t like when it rains.”
I give a small shake of my head. I should say something, offer an explanation, but I can’t. Forcing my lips to move feels like the hardest thing in the world right now.
“Do you want to be alone?”
Our eyes clash, and I pray he can sense the words I can’t say.Please don’t leave. It’s not as loud with you here.
After a moment, he nods.
Noticing the chatter of my teeth and the tremors coursing through my body, the frown on his face deepens. I feel pathetic. Who the hell is afraid ofrain? It’s not logical, but my body doesn’t seem to care. The bedpost digs into my back as I press my curled-up form against it.
“Come here,” he says gently, lifting the duvet and motioning for me to get back under it.
I gnaw on my lip. With some effort, my limbs manage to get unstuck, and I slide under the blanket, moving closet to Giorgio in the process. He tucks me in, brushes a strand of hair out of my face, and looks down at me.
The shadows dance around us.
“Why?” he asks.
I shut my eyes. Something inside of me urges me to confess, but when I try to speak, no sound comes out.
He blows out a slow breath, his gaze skating over my shivering form. “You’re still cold.” His palms drag over the outer online of my body, but the duvet is too thick for me to feel the heat of his touch.
The chill in my bones is so deep, I’m afraid even a boiling bath wouldn’t be enough to get it out. “I-I’m freezing.”
Giorgio rakes his fingers through his hair and looks conflicted for a moment, as if he’s weighing a few options.
When a hard shiver runs through me, he appears to make up his mind.
He lifts the duvet and climbs under it, settling behind me.
What!?
The world tilts on its axis as my mind tries to make sense of what just happened.
Oh my God.
Silently, he turns me on my side, tugs me to hisbarechest, and reaches over to turn off the bedside lamp. Then he tucks his heavy arm under the duvet and drapes it over the dip in my waist.
“What are you doing?” I choke out, finally regaining my voice.
“Getting you warm,” he says gruffly, his chin bumping against the top of my head. His furnace-like chest is flush against my back, his hips lined up with my own.
My butt is practically in his lap.
