Page 29 of Modern Romance January 2025 5-8
She gave a soft exhale that absolutely made him feel worse about this whole situation. ‘I wasn’t apologising for myself, or even my father.’ The clench of anger when she mentioned her father curiously soothed him. ‘I was expressing sympathy that such a horrific thing happened to you at all.’
A roaring started in his ears, filling him with emotion he didn’t need or want.
Dear God. He needed to get some sleep desperately. Or barring that, some distance. Hell, if he could have, he would’ve left his home for the first time in six years.
But why didhehave to?
Thoughts batting against his brain, he shoved his wrists into his gritty eyes, the beginnings of a growl working its way up from his throat. Lost in his head, he didn’t realise he’d moved until his shoulder bumped hers. His muscles clenched, but for the life of him he couldn’t move away.
After a tense moment, she started to rise again.
She reached for the door before a visceral reaction caused him to mutter, ‘Stay.’
She paused. ‘If I do, it’ll be on condition that I’m officially off punch-bag duties.’
He shook his head, unsure why her defiance made him feel less tormented. ‘You’re infuriating. And you’re also fired.’
Another soft scoff. ‘That just saves me quitting. Also saves me from burning your stupid socks.’
A fizz of amusement threatened to lighten his mood. ‘Then perhaps you should leave.’
‘I’ll be gone soon enough.’
The breath he took next was shaking, his muscles quivering under the weight bearing down on him. He rolled his shoulders, seeking elusive relief.
‘What’s wrong?’ she muttered.
He laughed under his breath. ‘Admitting flaws isn’t in my nature,querida.’
‘But saying that means you have them, so, you’re admitting them anyway.’
Her hand rose, hovered in the air for a moment, then dropped.
His belly hollowed. ‘You have something to offer?’
‘Not without an explicit request,’ she replied, that muted distress making another appearance. ‘If you want my help, ask for it.’
‘What makes you think I want—’
Her fingers dug into his muscles, prodding the hard knots beneath his skin. The growl died, then was reborn into a groan he bit back as his flesh loosened. But just as abruptly, she stopped and retreated.
‘Ask for it, Jario. Clarity is important to me.’
He clenched his jaw, his senses jumping faster than he could contain them. Eventually, the words tore free from his essence.‘Por favor.’He wasn’t entirely sure why he said it in his father tongue. And no, he wasn’t going to examine it right now.
Still, she hesitated, perhaps even regretting the offer.
But finally, she shifted closer, and with both hands, went to work on his muscles, the scent of lemongrass much stronger than before. It washed over him, and Jario’s eyes drifted shut.
In silence, she worked her way down his back to his waist and then up again. When she stepped down and went to the door, he tensed, thoughts of her leaving sending disappointment and desolation ploughing through him. Before he could speak, she cleared her throat.
‘This will work better if you’re lying down.’
Again, her voice was soft, devoid of defiance or pity. He found himself glad for the absence of both. Found himself welcoming this small sliver of soothing versus strife.
Of soft hands versus the grind of demon’s teeth.
It was ill advised in the extreme.