than it had with Sheree. My whole body felt like it had been plunged into a tub of ice water, the ache going right to the bone, everywhere except around my heart. Warmth cocooned it. At least it won’t freeze. Has to be a good sign, right?
I closed my eyes again and tried to imagine pulling the warmth from my heart into the rest of my body. Then I tried not to focus on how cold I felt at all, but on something different. I pictured Dorian’s face. My heart warmed more, but nothing else. So I imagined being held in Tristan’s warm arms, close to his warm body. The thoughts seemed to be working until a violent shudder racked my body. Tristan moved to get up.
“No, p-p-please d-d-don’t leave.”
“I’ll be right back.”
When he returned, he placed a hot, wet washcloth around the back of my neck. Then he removed the back cushions from the couch and lay down behind me, wrapping his arms around me, the whole length of my body pressed against his. The shivering slowed and then finally stopped. I closed my eyes and deep sleep overcame me.
I didn’t remember dreaming, but I did remember a disembodied face staring at me. I thought it belonged to the man who’d taken Sheree, but I couldn’t be positive. I’d only seen her kidnapper’s face for a brief time and through the haze of her memories. The face watching me floated in front of me, his hair and a goatee white as snow, his eyes like blue ice. Though the hair gave the impression of old age, no wrinkles lined his face. His lips pulled into a devious grin, exposing icicles for teeth. The face observed me and I thought he might be patiently waiting for me to do something. Nothing ever happened, though.
When I awoke much later, chills racked my body. Through the sliding glass doors, I saw the moon hanging low in the sky, as if strung on a necklace between the trees over our beach. I had no idea of the exact time, but I felt sure midnight had slipped by while I slept. Tristan had left my side. He came back when he saw me shaking and lay next to me again.
“S-s-sorry,” I said. “I-I-I kn-now it’s n-not comfortable.”
He had to scrunch his legs up just to fit on the couch.
“Do you want to go to the bed?” he asked.
“N-n-no. N-not now. I c-can’t move.”
My body felt like a slab of marble—too heavy to lift and cold to the touch—and I wondered if death felt like this. Tristan eventually warmed me enough again that I stopped shivering. I just wanted to lay there like a rock. Not a log—I felt too heavy to be a log. I was definitely a cold, heavy rock.
“Did Owen leave?” I asked.
“He’s just making more calls. Trying to find out when Sophia and Rina will be back, but they’re still working with Sheree. Do you need me to get you anything?”
“No. Just stay here, please. You’re really warm.”
He kissed my cheek and neck. His lips felt like hot matches striking against my icy skin. Pulling on every ounce of energy I could muster to move what felt like twice my body weight, I turned over to face him. I pressed my face against his chest and inhaled his warmth, his mouthwatering scent coating the back of my throat. He rubbed my back through the layers of blankets. Sleep overcame me again.
The next time I awoke, the sky was pitch-black and it felt like that time just before morning, when the whole world seemed to be dead. The coldest and darkest hour of the day. I couldn’t even see the moon from my position on my back. It had probably set by now. There were no lights on inside and I should have been blind in the complete darkness, but I could see perfectly. Owen slept sideways in the chair, his legs dangling over the arm. Tristan slept next to me, his arm and leg thrown over me, pinning me down. My clothes stuck to my skin, making me realize they were drenched in sweat. I had the sudden need to escape from all the heavy blankets, feeling as though they were made of iron and weighing me down. I kicked and thrashed, not able to get Tristan and the blankets off of me fast enough.
“What’s wrong?” Tristan asked, quickly awake. Owen stirred in the chair and peered at me through slit eyes.
“I’m so hot now,” I panted, finally unwrapping myself.
I stood up and pinpricks of light danced in front of my eyes. My legs trembled, feeling like cooked noodles under my weight. Tristan held his hand to the small of my back before I toppled back on him. Once I steadied myself, I headed for the bedroom, peeling the sweat-soaked clothes off of me. I wanted to lay naked, spread eagle on the cool bed, but stuffing still bulged out of its shredded top. I took another shower instead, this time letting the cool water run over me. I had to change the pressure on the showerhead to a gentle spray—anything else felt like thousands of needles piercing me. I felt every single drop patter against my skin, like the fat drops at the beginning of a rain storm hitting me one-by-one, but these were small and thousands at a time. It was a strange feeling.
Clean clothes at a minimum, I put on a tank top and pajama shorts, my only other choice being one of the fancy sundresses. The clothes rubbed harshly against my skin, feeling more like paper than cotton. The fabric even sounded like paper scraping and crinkling against itself. Tristan and Owen both eyed me when I came out of the bedroom.
“How do you feel?” Tristan asked. I flinched and covered my ears with my hands. He sounded like he nearly yelled.
“Except that everything feels, looks and sounds so intense, a lot better,” I whispered. “A little shaky, though. I’m really thirsty…and hungry.”
They both sighed with relief and the rush of air sounded like two train whistles. Being thirsty and hungry must have been a good sign. I drank a big glass of ice water and it cooled my insides, but not enough to radiate outwards to my feverish skin. I fixed another glass, retrieved the last of the crackers and sat next to Tristan on the couch. My muscles twitched, like they did when I wanted to run.
“That was weird,” I said, still whispering. “I was so cold and tired. Now I feel really warm but energetic. I feel like I could go for a ten-mile run.”
Tristan chuckled quietly and, thankfully, kept his voice low. “I don’t think so. You take it easy.”
Electricity pulsed through my body, though. I wasn’t sure I could sit still. A cell phone rang shrilly. I jumped and covered my ears again. Owen muttered, “finally,” as he stepped outside, lifting the phone to his ear.
I turned sideways on the couch and lay my legs over Tristan’s lap. He brushed my cheek with his fingertips and his touch felt so soft, but pleasurably shocking. Goose bumps spread down my neck and arms. He smiled and he looked absolutely sublime, his features even more perfectly sculpted than I’d ever noticed—if at all possible— even with the scars. My heart swelled with the immense love I had for him and a smile spread across my own face.
“Thanks for keeping me warm,” I whispered.
“My pleasure.” He leaned over and brushed his lips across mine, sending another delightful shock.
“I love you, my sweet Tristan.”
“I love you, ma lykita.” He smiled again and my heart flipped. “I’ll never understand why you love me, but I will take every bit you give.”
“You have it all.”
“And you have all of me.” His fingers brushed my cheek again and I shuddered. He leaned in for a long, loving kiss and it felt like he’d never kissed me before. His lips felt soft and full against mine and silky smooth, and I could taste real mangos, papayas and lime on my tongue. A sudden desire rose and I had to fight the impulse to rip his clothes off and jump him right here on the couch. I settled for wrapping my arms around his neck and pulling him hard against me as he continued to kiss me.
Owen interrupted us.
“Sophia and Rina are on their way back,” he said, keeping his voice low. “I’m going to meet them outside to make sure they get in with no problems.”
He eyed us. Tristan disentangled himself from my hold.
“Don’t get crazy. I won’t be long,” Owen added with a shake of his head.
“I wish we had more time,” I said after he left. “I’m quite enjoying these new sensations.”
“We’ll have plenty of time soon, my love.”
“I just don’t know how long these heightened senses will last.”
I stroked his face and found myself surprisingly amazed at the texture—I’d never noticed just how velvety
