C108 Let Me Hold You

Annabelle lay on the plush mattress, staring at the ornate ceiling above her.

The room was luxurious.

Far more than anything she’d ever known.

It was like a dream she had never dared to have.

It should have been comforting, even enchanting, but all Annabelle felt was restlessness.

Annabelle envied Cathy’s carefree nature.

When she went to bade her sister goodnight, Cathy had slept off even before Annabelle left the room.

Anabelle smiled as she remembered the way she had clung to the giant teddy bear that had come with the room.

Annabelle’s smile widened as she thought of how the teddy bear had dwarfed her sister’s small frame, yet Cathy had surrendered to sleep so easily.

“If only I could be so carefree in the presence of my own giant,” Annabelle uttered wistfully to the empty room as she turned again.

Then she shook her head at herself for her silliness.

Dante was no giant.

“He is something more,” her subconsciousness ended for her.

She rolled over, thumped her hand into the bed and let out a frustrated sound.

The silk sheets clung to her skin, cool and smooth, but they offered no solace.

She tossed and turned for what felt like hours, her mind a whirlwind of thoughts, anticipation, unexpected dread and a slight frisson of dread.

“I am this worked up, and he is not even around,” she thought to herself in annoyance.

She just knew she would be able to feel it if he was that close.

There was this unsettling feeling that just always made her know he was round even before she set her eyes on him.

“Maybe he is outside,” she wondered.

Not that she intended to ask.

Her gaze flicked to the adjoining door.

Her stomach tightened as she looked towards the clock and saw that it was already past midnight.

“Could he be out there with…?” she quickly stemmed the trail her thoughts were going down.

She reminded herself that it was none of her business, but then that damn voice in her head reminded her that he had declared her his woman.

“Doesn’t that make him your man also?”

Annabelle scoffed at the ridiculous thought.

She doubted that a man like Dante would keep himself pinned to a woman no matter how many claims he made.

He was a man with rules of his own.

If he decided that fidelity was not part of that rule, she was sure there was nothing she could do about it.

She hated the fact that the hurt that lanced through her at that conviction almost rubbed her off her breath, but then she knew that he had to face reality.

She was here mainly because she needed him.

Not the other way around.

Finally, with a frustrated sigh, Annabelle kicked off the sheets and swung her legs over the side of the bed.

The cool hardwood floor sent a shiver up her spine as she padded toward the en suite bathroom. Maybe a bath would help.

The bathroom was a sanctuary of indulgence, its marble surfaces gleaming under soft, golden light.

Annabelle filled the tub with water, adding a few drops of one of the fragrant oils from the array of bottles lined neatly on the counter.

The scent of lavender and vanilla filled the air, warm and soothing.

She sank into the water, letting its heat seep into her skin and loosen the tension knotted in her muscles.

Her thoughts drifted as she leaned her head back against the edge of the tub, staring at the chandelier above.

Her cheeks burned as she thought of Dante.

His sharp, penetrating gaze and the way he seemed to suck the air out of every room he entered.

There was something infuriating about him.

And yet, there was something else too.

Something that made her heart race despite her better judgment.

Shaking her head, she reached for one of the soft towels and dried herself off.

She needed to stop thinking about him.

The slightly ajar door of the wardrobe beckoned to her.

Annabelle hesitated before pulling them open fully.

Inside, rows of delicate, luxurious fabrics greeted her.

Silks, satins, and lace in shades that ranged from bold scarlet to soft pastels urged her on.

Her fingers brushed over the garments, and she frowned.

These weren’t things she would have chosen for herself.

They were clearly for him.

These were what he wanted to see her in.

A flicker of defiance sparked in her chest, but she squashed it.

Pulling out a pale lavender slip, she held it up.

It was one of the more modest nightwear.

Some were so scandalous that her face heated up just at the thought of putting them on.

When she thought of his gaze on her while she had them on?

It was a miracle she didn’t combust right there in a messy pool of passion.

The slip was impossibly delicate.

The lace along the neckline and hem so fine it seemed to whisper against her skin as she slipped it on.

Annabelle caught her reflection in the mirror and barely recognised herself.

The girl staring back at her looked… different.

Softer.

More vulnerable.

More… tempting.

She hated that she cared what Dante thought.

Hours seemed to pass, or maybe it was mere minutes.

Annabelle sat on the edge of the bed for a while, her hands twisting nervously in her lap.

She still hadn’t heard any sound from his room.

Didn’t he say he would let her settle in first?

“Does that not mean he intends to come over tonight?” she wondered out loud.

Her stomach cramped, and she wished she had eaten more of the delicious lamb roast she had been served during dinner.

Then she guessed not eating enough was a good thing because by now, she would have probably puked them all up.

“Where is he?” she wondered out loud.

Her mind raced with possibilities.

And she squared each thought immediately.

She was only concerned about holding her end of the bargain.

Nothing else mattered.

She paced the room, her bare feet silent against the floor.

She lay down.

She got up.

She briefly thought of going to check on Cathy and decided against it.

Then she decided against it.

The fact that she couldn’t sleep didn’t mean she should go walking about in the hallway at midnight like a ghost.

She could end up waking her sister or even others.

And that would only make her feel worse.

So she determinedly calmed her frayed nerves and lay down again.

Finally, exhaustion pulled her into a fitful sleep.

A soft sound jolted her awake.

Annabelle’s eyes flew open, her heart hammering in her chest.

She sat up, blinking against the dim light of the room, and froze.

Dante was there.

He stood just inside the door, stark naked, his body cast in shadows by the faint glow of the bedside lamp.

His dark hair was slightly dishevelled, his skin taut over sharply defined muscles.

His face looked harsher than usual.

His jaw was tight, and his eyes shadowed with something she couldn’t quite place.

Her breath caught in her throat.

“Dante…” Her voice came out as little more than a whisper.

He didn’t say anything at first, simply crossing the room with slow, deliberate steps.

The heat radiating from his body seemed to fill the space between them, and Annabelle’s pulse quickened despite herself.

When he reached the bed, he paused, looking down at her with an inscrutable expression.

She scrambled backwards instinctively, her back pressing against the headboard.

He climbed into bed beside her, the mattress dipping under his weight.

The tension in his shoulders seemed to ease slightly as he lay down, his body mere inches from hers.

“Relax,” he said softly in a rough tone.

She swallowed hard, her heart racing. “What’s wrong?”

For a moment, he didn’t answer.

Then he reached out and pulled her into his embrace.

He gave her a lingering kiss on her forehead and seemed to inhale her scent deeply before holding her back to his side.

She stiffened at first, but his warmth was undeniable and wrapped around her like a cocoon.

Her head rested against his chest, and she could feel the steady, rhythmic beat of his heart beneath her cheek.

“Just let me hold you,” he murmured, his voice so low she had to strain to hear him.

Annabelle hesitated, but the exhaustion in his tone, the vulnerability he so rarely showed, softened something inside her.

She relaxed slightly, her body moulded against his.

“Sleep,” he whispered.

Sleep?

How could she possibly sleep like this?

With his heat surrounding her, his heartbeat under her palm, and her thoughts tangled in an unknown storm?

Her fingers twitched against his chest and the urge to ask him what happened was huge.

But his breathing was already evening out, the tension in his body melting away as he held her close.

Annabelle closed her eyes.

Though she doubted she would sleep a wink.