Page 37 of Blazing Desires
I know I only crave it so much because I’m lonely. Affection isn’t something I’ve had much experience with since Mum left.
I flick a glance at Blaze and the tense lines of his back as he descends the top step. He turns slightly, raising his hand to me, palm up. I drink in the lines of his palm and note the hard callouses dotted there.
What would they feel like if they passed over my soft skin?
The contrast of sensations that the picture elicits has me swallowing a little harder.
Stupid girl! You're annoyed at him, remember?
I clear my throat and place my hand in his. It would have been childish to not take it since he’s only helping me descend the stairs. I suppress a shiver as our hands touch, avoiding eye contact with him, not trusting myself to stay strong in my anger as I place my left hand on the banister for support.
Still, no words pass between us as we descend. My heart thumps in my chest from my growing anxiety that I'm about to have dinner with my father and that it could go either way. He never lasts long around the new security detail before he shows his true colours. My breath becomes shallow as I imagine him making a scene in front of Blaze.
Will he stand there and let it happen, or will he intervene?
There's a sad part of me, the one that ignores the reality of my life, that wants to imagine him stepping in and saving me frommy father's latest punishment. But the logical side of my brain tramples all over it.
Seriously, where the fuck is everyone?
My grip tightens in Blaze's hand as we reach the final steps, my panic taking over my body as my palms begin to sweat and counting my breathing stops working. The urge to flee back to the confines of my room rather than facing whatever is in store for me is so strong that I half turn without letting go of his hand.
My hand is suddenly turning over and I snap my gaze to where Blaze now holds my wrist with his free one. The hand that had been holding mine is now fingers, gently tapping against my palm.
One, two, three, four.
Then my wrist.
One, two, three, four.
“Breathe, my love.”
Blaze's low, gravelly voice reaches my ears over the whooshing sound that threatens to block out any noise. So I do. I breathe in time to his tapping as he travels up my arm and back to my palm, all while encouraging me to breathe in time to the tune of his taps.
“In.”
Four taps.
“Out.”
Four taps.
My breathing evens out and the whooshing in my ears abates. My heart rate is still elevated, but part of that is from this stupidly gorgeous man touching me.
Curse my traitorous body.
Once I’m calmer, I slip my hand from his and rub my hands over my skirt to smooth out non-existent wrinkles.
“Thank you.”
I don’t trust myself to say anything else to him. I’m so confused by this man. One minute he’s treating me like a dog he can master, and the next he's comforting me. I don't know what it means, but I can't shake the feeling that he's doing this for some reason other than the kindness of his heart.
“Anytime, Davina. Shall we?”
He gestures to the ground-floor foyer in the direction of the sunroom. Out of all the rooms in this house, I love and hate this one the most. It’s a new addition that contrasts with the rest of the house. My father had it built not long after my mother left, and I always thought the timing of it was odd.
What would a man like him, who’s all smoke and mirrors, darkness, and destruction, want with a sunroom?
He never uses it unless he is hosting a dinner, which is baffling. A man with known enemies in the business of being able to take people out and make it look like an accident enjoyed hosting dinners in a room full of windows. He’s either dumb or doesn’t think anyone would be stupid enough to try it.
