His large hand tangles into my hair, twisting as he cups the back of my neck, his thumb stroking along the length of my throat in the way he always did. Tugging my head back, he pulls away to look at me, gnawing on his bottom lip while his eyes bore into mine.
“My trouble.” The tip of his nose ghosts mine. “I love you more, ma belle fleur.”
Cupping his jaw, I trace his lips with my thumb. My fingertips rake through his scruff. Water pools in my mouth. Heat courses through me, engulfing me completely. I gasp when he bites down on my thumb, hard enough that it pulses once he releases it in favour of my lips.
However, in complete contrast to his bite, his kiss is soft, slow, and savouring. Warm sunshine on my cold skin, the taste of him like cool water to my parched tongue. His touch is salvation to my weary soul.
I twine my fingers in his hair, stopping him from pulling away if he tried. And he doesn’t. Casper threads his other hand into my knotty strands, pulling me as close as we can get before he takes me down to the bed with him.
Releasing my hair, he stretches his arm beneath my head as he rolls onto his back and tucks me into his side. I don’t complain when he pulls the blanket over me. I hold on tighter instead, my hand fisting his shirt as his free one moulds to my belly.
“Not long now.”
“I don’t even have a name.”
“Sure you do, you just haven’t thought of it yet.”
“That’s a sil—” I start to get up, but he holds me down. “Shh…go to sleep, Trouble.”
“I don’t want to leave you.”
“Only for a little while.”
I try not to do as he tells me, but the warmth lulls me, tugging at me harder and harder until I can’t hang on anymore.
Chapter 24
FLEUR
I wake to the bright morning light burnishing through my eyelids. It’s warmer than it’s been for a while, and when I roll onto my back, I kick off the covers. My dream is still fresh in my memory. So vivid that I swear I can still smell Casper on me, that I can still taste him on my tongue—that sweet and sour mix of spearmint and tobacco.
I savour it all even through my aching heart. I shower and then pick out one of the dresses hanging up in the wardrobe. I’m guessing it’s not meant to be a maxi dress, but on me, the black fabric grazes the floor. I’ve looked at it once or twice; the white embroidered flowers remind me of the daisies Casper brought me that one time.
After my dream, I want to find all there is of him that I can hold on to. Even if it hurts. Rolling the long sleeves up my forearms, I head downstairs. My mouth waters at the smell of sweet tea and fresh bread. And I realise that I’m hungry for the first time in over a week. I’m famished.
“You look…good,” Ryan tells me with a smile, but it doesn’t reach his blue eyes. They look glacial like when he first took me from the bunker. All the shine is gone from them.
“Thanks,” I reply. “Are you okay?”
“Yes.”
I pause by the dining room door. Unlike usual it’s closed, and the way he’s standing outside, it’s as though he’s keeping watch. I look him over because he’s trimmed his scruff down to a neat stubble. His hair is styled. Even his clothes are different. His white shirt is tucked into his black jeans, and his boots are polished.
“Are you going to eat breakfast with me?”
He smiles. “Not today.”
“Why not? I thought maybe we could go for a walk by the lake after breakfast. I’m hungry today.” As if to prove it, my stomach rumbles loudly.
“Good.”
“Good? That’s it? You’ve been on and on at me about eating, and ‘good’ is all you have to say? I expected a celebration, or at least a high five.”
Holding his palm up, he grins. It’s faint, and when I smack my palm to his, his fingers close around my hand. Blue orbs soften on me, searching my face.
“Are you sure you’re okay?”
Nodding, he drops my hand and opens the door, leaving it ajar for me to go in.