He took the book from her hands and placed it on the nightstand. Grace looked up at him. Molten desire filled his eyes as he stared at her face with a hunger that stole her breath.
Then, to her amazement, he kissed her lightly on the tip of her nose.
He reached over and grabbed her remote, then dimmed the lights to their lowest setting. Grace didn't know what to say as he snuggled up against her back and just held her close.
He brushed her hair back from her face and laid his head above hers. 'I love the way you smell,' he whispered, his arms tightening around her.
'Thank you,' she whispered.
She wasn't sure, but she thought he might be smiling at her.
Grace snuggled even closer to his warmth, but his jeans rubbed against her bare legs. 'Are you comfortable in your clothes? Shouldn't you change?'
'No,' he said quietly. 'This way I know my spoon will stay away from your-'
'Don't you say it!' she said with a laugh. 'No offense, your brother is disgusting.'
'I knew I liked you for a reason.'
Grace took the remote from his hand. 'Good night, Julian.'
'Good night, my sweet.'
She switched off the light.
Instantly, she felt Julian tense around her, heard his breathing change into short, sharp intakes. He pulled away from her.
'Julian?'
He didn't respond.
Worried, she turned the lights back on to see him, leaning on his arms, braced and locked, to support his upper body. His forehead damp from perspiration, his eyes were wild and panicked as he struggled to breathe.
'Julian?'
He looked around the bedroom as if he had awakened from some terrifying nightmare. She watched as he lifted one hand and placed it against the wall above the headboard as if to assure himself it was real and not a hallucination.
Licking his lips, he rubbed his hand over his chest and swallowed hard.
It was then, she knew.
It was the darkness. That was why he had only dimmed the lights.
'I'm so sorry, Julian. I didn't think.'
He didn't speak.
Grace pulled him into her arms, amazed at the way a man as strong as this one held on to her as if he couldn't let go. Julian laid his head against her breasts.
Clenching her teeth, she felt tears sting her eyes. And in that moment, she knew she could never let him go back into that book. Never.
Somehow, they would beat this curse. And when it was over, she hoped Julian got his own revenge against the ones responsible.
Chapter 9
Grace remained still for hours, listening to Julian breathe, calmly, peacefully, as he slept behind her. He had one thigh nestled snugly between her legs and one arm draped over her waist.
The feel of his body around hers made her throb with longing.
And his scent…
It was all she could do not to turn over and bury her nose in the warm, spicy scent of his skin. No one had ever made her feel like this. So wanted, so secure.
So desirable.
And she wondered how that could be, given the fact that they barely knew each other. Julian touched something inside her on a level that went beyond the physical.
He was so strong, so commanding. And funny. He made her laugh and he wrung her heart.
She reached out and ran her fingers lightly over his hand that lay in front of her, just below her chin. He had such beautiful hands. Long and tapered. Even when they were relaxed in sleep, the power of them was undeniable. And the magic they could work on her body…
It was nothing short of miraculous.
She ran her thumb over his general's ring and wondered what Julian had been like back then. Unless the curse had altered his physical age, he didn't appear very old. Certainly, not much more than thirty.
How had he ever led an army at such a young age? But then, Alexander the Great had barely been old enough to shave when he'd started his campaigns.
Julian must have been fabulous on the battlefield. Closing her eyes, she tried to imagine him on his horse, riding out against his enemies. She had a vivid image of him in his armor, his sword raised as he fought hand to hand against the Romans.
'Iason?'
She tensed as she heard him whisper in his sleep.
Rolling over, she looked at him. 'Julian?'
He tensed behind her and started speaking in a jumbled mixture of English and ancient Greek. 'Don't!
He sat straight up in bed. She couldn't tell if he was awake or asleep.
Instinctively, she touched his arm.
With a curse, he grabbed her and pulled her over his body. He threw her back against the mattress. His eyes were wild as he held her down, his lips curled.
'Damn you!' he snarled.
'Julian,' she gasped as his grip on her arm tightened and she tried to make him let her go. 'It's me, Grace!'
'Grace?' he repeated, his brows drawing together into a deep frown as he focused on her face.
Blinking, he pulled back from her. He lifted his hands and stared at them as if they were alien appendages he'd never seen before.
He looked at her. 'Did I hurt you?'
'No, I'm fine. Are you all right?'
He didn't move.
'Julian?' She reached for him.
He pulled back from her as if she were poisonous. 'I'm fine. It was just a bad dream.'
'A bad dream or a bad memory?'
'A bad memory that always haunts my dreams,' he whispered, his voice laden with grief. He got out of bed. 'I should sleep somewhere else.'
Grace caught his arm before he could leave, and pulled him back toward the bed. 'Is that what you've always done in the past?'
He nodded.
'Have you ever told anyone about the dream?'
Julian stared aghast at her. What did she take him for?
Some sniveling child that needed its mother?
He'd always borne his anguish inside. As he'd been taught. It was only when he slept that the memories were able to sneak past his defenses. Only when he slept that he was weak.
In the book, there was no one to hurt when his nightmare came upon him. But once released from his prison, he knew better than to sleep at the side of someone he might inadvertently grab while in the throes of it.
He could have accidentally killed her.
That thought terrified him.
