Page 20 of Redeem

Such bullshit, and I prayed he wouldn’t call me on it. I kept my eyes glued to the window but listened, my heart pounding hard, as he approached. He stood next to me, and looked out of the window.

“Do you think the roof will be okay?” he asked.

At his question, some of the tightness in my chest loosened, though the embarrassment still raged. “Yeah. It’s in better shape than it looks. It’ll be fine,” I said.

I waited a moment, took a breath, and then looked at him. He peered down at me, his expression as it always was. “Make yourself at home. I’m going to…go,” I said.

I stepped away from him, and without looking back, I fled.

Ciprian

I was many things, but under no circumstances was I a man of inaction.

So I was surprised by my restraint with Dana.

Everything about her, her eyes, her body, had begged me to kiss her. I hadn’t missed that.

But I hadn’t acted on it.

I’d wanted to, more than I could express, but I hadn’t taken what Dana had so clearly offered.

Even now, several hours after those charged moments had passed, I could still feel the warmth from her body near mine, see the soft desire in her eyes, could practically feel her warm breath against my mouth, imagine her full lips against mine.

But I hadn’t been able to allow her to kiss me, hadn’t been able to allow myself to kiss her back. The truth that I still hadn’t shared kept me from doing so. I’d taken so much from Dana. I wouldn’t further that crime, much as my body may have wanted me to.

Still, I was pleased by the events that had unfolded this morning. Dana seemed different. Not comfortable exactly, but less tense, and not that displeased by my presence. That change, as small as it was, became my lifeline, gave me something that had been absent for so long, I’d almost forgotten what it was like.

It gave me hope.

Ten

Dana

“I…” I swallowed, paused, tried again. “I can take you back now,” I said.

The rain had stopped, and when I looked out the window I saw that most of the standing water had drained. The truck could make it through, and for some reason, that made me sad.

I glanced over my shoulder quickly, acknowledging that I knew exactly what that reason was.

Ciprian nodded, stood, and I looked away before I could read too much into his movement, not that it did any good. Even without looking at him, I still wondered how he felt about leaving. Was he eager? Could he possibly be a little melancholy about it?

At that thought, a deep flush broke out over my body, my face and ears burning. What was happening to me? I was blushing. Blushing. That had never happened before. Not even when I had been young—never carefree, mind you—but of an age where something like a blush would have been appropriate.

And it certainly had not happened in the years since I had come out here.

It was difficult to imagine, let alone accept, but when I glimpsed him from the corner of my eyes and felt that flush deepen, I knew I couldn’t deny it.

For the first time in my life, I had a full-blown crush.

The smile creeped up before I could stop it, but I smashed it down as ruthlessly as I could. Still, when I finally looked into Ciprian’s face, I saw the ghost of a smile on his lips and knew that he hadn’t missed my own. I frowned, almost scowled, not that he did anything to suggest he noticed or cared. At least he didn’t say anything. I was embarrassed enough as it was.

He turned and walked toward the door, and I was again mesmerized by the sight of his strong, broad back, the inky hair that curled against his neck. Instantly, I thought back to this morning, the warmth of his body near me, how close he had been to kissing me. That flush intensified. Not a surprise, really, when I considered how physically attracted I was to him. If anyone was going to make me blush, it would be Ciprian.

It went beyond physical. That quiet intensity that I wanted to be the focus of, the obvious control that I wished to see loosened, all signs that for whatever reason, this man reached me, made me react in a way no one else ever had.

I continued to look at him, unable to stop myself, though I had no doubt he could feel my stare. Still, I allowed myself to stare, marvel at him. Not just his size, or the sculpted body that I so desperately wanted to feel against mine, inside mine. I marveled at how expressive he was without really giving anything way, how it seemed like I knew him, felt like it, though I didn’t really.

He was dangerous.