I blink. “Huh?”
He gestures with his head back at the curtain. “No light. It’s barely after dawn. Explain.”
I don’t want to talk about it. Instead, I memorize his chest and muscled arms before noting how his body tapers to a slim waist and masculine hips. Who knew that hips could be masculine?
“I’m not going to ask again. You were screaming bloody murder.”
Embarrassed at the screaming, I curl my fingers into the bedclothes, having found a new T-shirt to wear to bed. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
“What makes you think you have a choice?” He moves then. Right at me.
I scramble back but the headboard keeps me from going through the wall. As if I could.
He twists off the light, lifts the covers, and shoves his inferno-hot body into me.
I sit there. “Wait a minute.” My lungs feel like I’ve been buried under the ocean.
With an exaggerated sigh, he clasps my bare thigh and pulls me beneath the covers. “I swear, you’re more contrary than a country cow.” His warmth seeps right beneath my skin, yet his fingers are freezing.
Left with no choice, I snuggle into him, my back to his front. “Did you just call me a cow?”
“Of course not. Why did you scream?”
In the darkness, bracketed by his brutalized body, I feel safe. Somewhat. Kind of? “You said you’d leave me alone.”
“I meant in the sexual way.” His breath brushes my hair. “Not in the cuddling-after-nightmares kind of way.”
Against my will, a smile tugs at my lips. “Do you have a lot of nightmares?”
“More than I can count.”
The words sadden me. I want to lighten the mood, and I really don’t want to talk about the nightmare or the window. “Did you kill anybody tonight?” I hold my breath.
“One out of two,” he says easily.
Oh. “Did the one deserve it?” Not that Thorn’s moral compass of justice points north, anyway.
“He surely did.” An iron-hard arm wraps around my waist and he pulls me even closer, his mouth nuzzling my ear.
Wings flutter inside me. A warning. “You said no sex.”
“If you think this is sex, you need better streaming services.” But he stops. “Were you even tempted to wait in my bed?”
I don’t like being overwhelmed, and there’s no other way to describe what he’s doing holding me so close. Yet I do like this. My brain and my body have dramatically different ideas about how to handle Thorn Beathach. As if a wild animal such as he can be handled. “Stop fishing for compliments.”
“I’m not. I just want the truth.”
Yeah, he has a thing for the truth, doesn’t he? “Yes. I was tempted.”
He kisses the top of my head. “Good girl.”
For telling the truth? Or for being smart enough to stay out of his bed? I’m not sure. “Do you really taste honey when I speak?”
“Yeah, though it’s fleeting. Not too thick or sweet. Perfect, really.”
Heat plunges into my face along with pleasure. I have no control over how my words taste to him, but I like that I can bring him comfort. How this makes sense, considering he killed a man earlier this night, I have no clue. But he did say the guy deserved it. My eyelids start to droop.
“You’ve stalled long enough. Tell me about the nightmare and why you’re afraid of the dawn.”
Part of me wants to confide in him this sleepy morning. The other part wants to tell him to get bent. Yet I figure that statement would count as defiance, and my butt is not up to another round with an irritated Thorn.
Sealing my decision, he runs one gentle palm up my arm and tugs on my ear, his body powerful as it covers me. “Trust me. Let it out.”
“There isn’t much to say. I have a recurring nightmare. I’m small and scared. It’s raining and I hear . . . voices? Angry ones.” I shiver and his arm flexes low on my pelvis. I can feel his erection probing my rear, and for the tiniest of seconds, I marvel at his control.
“What do you smell?”
“Vanilla candles,” I say instantly. “And no, I don’t see them. But I smell them.”
He shifts his weight and groans. “Do vanilla candles mean anything to you?”
I shake my head.
He coughs out what is no doubt a healthy dose of my hair. “Have you ever been kidnapped? I mean, besides now?”
The reminder of my precarious position cools my interest in his heat and hard body. “Not that I know of.” But I don’t remember. “I’ve tried different shrinks and hypnotists, and nothing.”
“What does your father say?”
