Page 102 of Filthy Dirty Dom

“You should be in New York, living your life.”

“We had to leave New York because Pearson and Anderson hired the Bratva.”

“Because of me, Leslie. Because I took Pearson down. Either way, I’m the common denominator.”

“I don’t care,” she said.

“I do.”

46

After what Alex had revealed, they’d gone to sleep in their separate beds, the distance between them feeling like a cavern Leslie would never be able to cross. But it ultimately turned out easier to cross than she’d thought. Because an hour later, still wide awake, Leslie crawled into bed with him, spooning herself against Alex’s back. Obviously still awake, he’d stiffened. But he hadn’t protested or pulled away. Silent, underneath the soft, dim glow of the moonlight filtering through the antique windows of the monastery, Leslie held Alex in her arms, waiting as his tension slowly dissipated. He began to breathe easier. Then slower. Then finally, he was asleep.

At one point, he rolled toward her and pulled her close. He was a solid weight against her, his strong body curled against hers as they lay entwined on the bed.

His sleep was deep until it wasn’t. A slight tremor ran through his muscular body as if he was dreaming something unsettling. There were occasional murmurs too, muffled words escaping from his lips. Among the murmurs, Leslie caught Mia's name. It was spoken with pain, a deep-set anguish.

When he was restless, she soothed him with gentle caresses and soft words. “It’s okay. I’m here, Alex. I’m here.”

When he slept deeply, she stared at him, her mind a whirlpool of thoughts. She traced the lines of his face with her eyes, his strong jawline, the stubble that added an extra layer of masculinity to his already masculine visage. Each revelation he’d made about his past added a new facet to the man she loved. Yet, with each disclosure, she felt him slipping away. He had loved deeply and lost tragically, a scar on his heart that still hadn't healed.

Her heart ached for him, for the depth of love he had for Mia and the pain of losing her. It hurt to realize that the reason he couldn't give Leslie his heart was that it belonged to someone else, someone who was no longer a part of this world. It was a bitter pill to swallow, the realization that she was in love with a man who was still haunted by his past love.

Despite her own tumultuous feelings, she tightened her hold around him, offering her silent support. Alex might be haunted by his past, he might not be able to give her his heart, but she wouldn't let him fight his demons alone. She would be there, by his side, holding him when the nightmares came, and loving him, even if he couldn't love her back the way she wanted.

She must have slept because the next thing she knew, daylight pierced through the windows, casting a warm golden glow onto the ancient stone floor of their room. Leslie’s eyes opened, her heart still heavy with the weight of Alex's revelations from the night before. Beside her, Alex lay quiet and still, his face set in a peaceful mask that she had seldom seen. She spent some precious moments watching him until he smiled.

Eyes still closed, he said, “Good morning, gorgeous.”

She smiled, not missing how he’d echoed exactly how she’d greeted him that morning they’d woken up after she’d stayed uninvited in his bed. It was mind blowing how much had changed since then. How much deeper she knew Alex, both physically and spiritually.

“Good morning,” she said.

He rolled to his side and rested on one elbow, his head propped in the palm of his hand. “You snuck into my bed again.”

“Do you…mind?”

“No. Not then. Not now.”

He reached out and caressed her cheek.

“Thank you for sharing what you did with me last night. For trusting me.”

“I’ve always trusted you, Leslie. It’s just not easy, sharing my past.”

“Of course it isn’t.”

Leslie wanted more than anything to kiss him. To pleasure him until he forgot his torment. But in this place, especially given what he’d revealed the night before, it didn’t feel right.

She reached for something to say. Something light yet purposeful. Remembering the blooms of flowers she’d caught sight of when they’d arrived and again at dinner, she said, “I’d love to explore the monastery gardens before we have breakfast. Do you think that would be okay?”

Alex smiled. “I’m pretty sure Father isn’t hiding contraband in the gardens, so I don’t see why not.”

They dressed in silence, a stark contrast to the stormy emotions brewing within them. As they left their room and ventured out to explore the monastery grounds, it soon became apparent to Leslie that Alex could have been a botanist, given his apt descriptions of various plants and their medicinal uses.

"Is there a botanist hidden under that tough exterior?"

"When you're out in the field, knowing which plants can heal and which ones can kill becomes a necessary skill."

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