"Are you hungry?" he asked.
"Just getting some water."
"I'll get it for you."
"You don't have to..."
He was already rising to his feet and heading toward the kitchen. The shorts he wore hung low on his waist, revealing the v-shape of muscles at his hips and the trail of hair leading to an enticing place she yearned to touch again. Her heart raced as she followed a few feet behind him. He pulled a bottle of water from the fridge and handed it to her.
"Thank you. Has Tristan done anything tonight?" she asked.
"Not so far."
"Do you plan to stay awake all night?"
"I can't sleep anyway." He leaned against the counter to study her from those strangely red and green eyes.
Emma took a sip of water as she studied him. Her fingers twitched as she fought the urge to touch his smooth skin. She would give anything to ease the tension in his shoulders. Anything to turn the color of his eyes back to the vibrant green she loved so much. Unable to hold his gaze, her eyes darted to the fridge. She frowned at the massive dent in it.
"What happened?" she inquired.
He barely glanced at it. "I lost my temper the other night after what happened with Tristan and punched it."
Emma's eyebrows shot up as she stared at the massive dent in the middle of the heavy-duty appliance. The amount of force behind the punch must have been about the same as a charging bull. "Remind me not to piss you off."
"I'd cut my hands off before I ever touched you in anger."
Her eyes flew back to his; her heart melted at the absolute conviction behind his words. "Ethan, I don't want to hurt you."
"You're not, Emma."
"Your eyes—"
"I'm all right."
"My family—"
"I know how important family is. You've met some of the crazies who are a part of mine."
She chuckled as she took another sip of water. "They're not so bad."
Her body heated and tingled as his stare burned over her skin. She took another drink to wet her parched throat as she prepared herself to ask her next question. "Did you want to do to me what you did with those other women?"
She could feel the color creeping into her face at the question. She barely heard her own words, but he inhaled harshly, and his hands clenched on the counter.
"No," he hissed. Her eyes flew up to his. "Not once did I ever think about doing such a thing to you, or having you do anything like that to me."
"Did you..." she broke off and swallowed heavily, she was pretty sure if she touched her face right now she might burn her palms. "Did you miss it? Was what happened between us lacking in some way for you?"
He clasped her chin as she ducked her head and nudged it upward. "Look at me, Emma." He didn't speak again until her lashes reluctantly fluttered upward and she hesitatingly met his gaze. "Nothing was lacking between us, nothing. What is between us is something pure and wonderful. What I did with those women was lacking, and I never want to experience it again. I've never been as fulfilled as I have since meeting you."
"Ethan," she breathed as tears filled her eyes. She didn't think she'd ever heard such amazing and beautiful words before in her life
"But you're still not ready for me, are you?"
"It's not that."
"You're not ready for my world. If you were, you wouldn't be asking me questions."
"What would I be doing?" she whispered.
"You'd be taking me to bed."
She smiled tremulously at him. "I don't think that's a good idea right now."
His hand slid away from her chin. "Maybe you should try and get some more sleep."
She was thrown off by the change of topic, but his eyes started turning a deeper shade of red as he watched her. "You're right," she mumbled. "Thank you for the water."
A trickle of apprehension slid through Emma as she noticed his hands clenched around the edge of the granite countertop and the corded muscles standing out in his arms. A bead of sweat formed on his forehead. She did this to him; she was doing this to him.
"Ethan." She stepped closer to him to try and comfort him. She had to do something to ease the awful look on his face other than just walking away.
"Eternity, Emma—blood, death, your death." His eyes pinned her to the spot as they became the color of a stop sign and seemed to convey the same message. "You remember those things when you come near me; you remember those things when you think you might want to touch me again."
Her hand lifted toward him before dropping back to her side. "I want to touch you all the time," she whispered. "I'm scared. I've just found out something I thought was only a legend is real, and my ex is trying to kill me. Even through all of that, I want to touch you. I'd like nothing more than to have you hold me because I think it would make it all better, but I can't hide behind you. I have to face this, but no matter what happens you have to know, I will always want to touch you. No one has ever made me feel like you do, you're like a drug to me, and if I'm not careful, I'm afraid you're going to burn me out and destroy me just like a drug would."
She didn’t realize she was crying until the first fat drop fell onto her hand. She hastily wiped it away and then wiped her cheeks. Ethan stared at her with a mixed look
