Page 39 of The Baron's Return
Cranston was sprawled across the bed on his back, the bedsheets a tangle about his waist and the sheen of sweat covering his bare torso. He was muttering unintelligible words now, his brows drawn together in a fierce scowl. His hands were twitching on top of the sheets.
Anxious to help him, she rushed to the side of the bed and placed a hand on his shoulder.
“Cranston,” she said as she shook him. When nothing happened, she shook him harder. “You’re dreaming. You need to wake up.”
She was leaning over him when his eyes sprang open. Before she could reassure him that he was only dreaming and that everything was fine, he yanked her down onto the bed and rolled them so that her body was under him.
She froze, realizing her mistake. He thought her one of the enemies he’d been battling.
“Gideon, it’s me. Abigail.”
He stared down at her, confusion clouding his eyes. But she saw the moment he realized who she was. He flung himself away from her, moving to sit on the edge of the bed.
“I was dreaming.”
She rose and moved to sit next to him. “Yes. I heard you shouting and came in to wake you up.”
He shot her a sideways look she was unable to read. “You’re not afraid of me?”
“What? No, of course not. Why would I be afraid of you?”
He shook his head and looked away. It took her a few moments to realize what he wasn’t saying. “This has happened with other women. You’ve had nightmares when…” When he slept with them. Her husband hadn’t been a monk, and she wondered how many other women knew about his nightmares.
She was a fool. He didn’t need her. She was just another in a long line of women who’d been intimate with him. Who’d seen him like this. She wasn’t special in any way.
“Since you seem to be well now, I’ll leave you.”
She stood but had only managed one step when he took hold of her hand. She remained in place, refusing to look back at him.
“After the first time it happened, I never spent the entire night with another woman. She looked at me as though I were a monster who was about to commit murder.”
Abigail turned to face him.
“Perhaps I am a monster now. The things I’ve done…” He shook his head. Then he stared into her eyes. An eternity seemed to pass before he spoke again. “But you’re not afraid.”
She let out a frustrated breath. “Of course I’m not afraid of you. Heaven knows I’ve given you plenty of reasons to hate me, but instead you’ve been kind. And I’ve seen how you are with Gemma.” He still held on to one hand, and so she threaded the fingers of her other hand through his sweat dampened hair. “You could never be a monster.”
His eyes searched hers, and she waited to see what he would do. Would he send her away?
“Abigail.” Her name on his lips was almost a plea. “Spend the night with me.”
She nodded and stepped between his spread legs. The sheet no longer covered the lower half of his body, and she realized that he slept in the nude. “You need only ask. I am yours, always.”
He shook his head again. “I wish I could believe that. But for now this will be enough.”
Abigail gave herself over to the moment. Words would never convince him, but perhaps with time her actions would show him that there could never be another man for her.
Cranston rested his head on her breast, his arms around her waist keeping her close. She continued to smooth her fingers through his hair, giving him the time he needed for the nightmare to pass. Warmth spread through her, and she willed him to take comfort from her presence.
As the minutes passed, heated longing started to grow within her. Along with the desire to do something for this man that they hadn’t shared yet.
She slipped to her knees between his legs, her hands moving to his thighs. Before her eyes, his manhood, which was already half hard, began to stiffen and rise.
He cupped her chin and tilted her face up to him. “You don’t have to…”
His words said one thing, but the desire in his eyes told her that he didn’t want her to stop.
“I know. But I want to do this.”
