As I stood over Lily, I watched her for a moment. She lay on her back, her blond hair spread out on her pillow, and her brows drawn together. Even in the throes of a nightmare she was fucking beautiful. Damn it. What had I gotten myself into? I touched her shoulder. She was dressed in only a tank top and my fingers brushed the naked skin of her shoulders, and the touch sent a freaking shiver all the way to my cock. Her fucking shoulder, not her boob or her butt or her pussy. I almost got a fucking hard-on from touching a shoulder for God’s sake. This was pathetic on a whole new level. “Liliana?” Somehow it felt safer to use her normal name instead of her nickname.
Her eyes moved under her eyelids and she stirred under my hand but still didn’t wake. I gently touched the side of her neck, feeling her pulse flutter under my fingertips. “Lily,” I said a bit louder.
She jerked and her eyes flew open, staring straight at me. “Romero?” she whispered in a voice still heavy with sleep. I wanted to kiss her so badly.
Liliana
Someone touched my throat, tearing me from sleep. I opened my eyes but it took a few seconds before my brain registered what was before me: Romero.
“Romero?” Maybe I was still dreaming. It was definitely an improvement over my previous dream about my mother who had talked to me with lifeless eyes about happiness.
“It’s okay,” Romero said in his deep voice.
I looked around. “You are in my room.” I sounded like a moron. But I was stunned. After all, he’d as good as thrown me out of his room two days ago and now he stood in my own. A bit of a twist I hadn’t expected. Not that I minded.
Romero’s lips twitched as if he wanted to smile but then he became serious again. Sometimes I thought he tried to keep in his smiles because he worried that if he allowed that kind of emotion, all of them would come up. “You had a nightmare. I decided to wake you.”
I nodded. He stood beside my bed, half bent over me. If I’d reached out I could have grabbed his neck and pulled him down. My fingers itched to do just that, but I hadn’t forgotten his rejection not too long ago. He needed to make the next step and I wasn’t sure if coming into my room to wake me from a nightmare counted as one. I wanted it to. I sat up and my blankets fell down to my hips. I wore only a flimsy camisole. Romero’s eyes followed the movement, and lingered on my chest.
“Thanks for waking me. I had a dream about my mother.” I wasn’t sure why I said it. My nightmare was the last thing I wanted to think about, much less talk to Romero about. His eyes returned to my face. Sometimes I thought I could drown in them. When he was around I felt so happy and light. Somehow I knew he was the one, the person I was meant to be with. I’d known it pretty much from the beginning. If there was something like fate, then this was it.
Romero brushed a strand of hair from my forehead and I leaned into the touch. Somehow he was closer now. “You miss her.”
I nodded. I did, but her last words haunted me more than her death. Her sadness over the things she’d missed, the longing in her—I didn’t think I could ever forget that. Romero and I locked gazes and just stared at each other. In the dim light spilling from the corridor I could see the conflict in Romero’s eyes. I wanted to lean forward but I stopped myself. I had to be strong, had to have some self-respect.
I was about to say something, anything, to stop the mounting tension but then Romero leaned down and kissed me. I hadn’t expected him to and gasped against his lips, but my surprise lasted only a couple of seconds before I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him back with everything I had. He put one knee down on my bed beside me and cradled my head. His kiss banished the last of my tiredness and the lingering sadness from my dream. I wasn’t sure how long we kissed, Romero kneeling on the bed and I half-sitting, but I came more alive with every second. Eventually I pulled back, my breathing harsh. There was an insistent pounding between my legs but I knew it would have been wrong to take things further tonight.
Romero stroked my cheek and was about to straighten but I caught his arm. “I don’t want to be alone tonight.”
I waited for protest but it didn’t come. My heart dropped when he walked toward the door. Would he leave without a word? Instead he closed the door silently before he returned to the bed. With every step that he took in my direction, my heart seemed to swell with emotion. Romero removed his gun holster and put it down on the nightstand, then slipped out of his shoes. I scooted to the other side of my bed to make room for him, excitement fluttering in my chest. He didn’t slip under the covers with me as I’d hoped, instead
