Fragile Longing

Danilo’s eyes burned into mine. I didn’t understand the look in them. The fiery smolder might have ignited the glimmer of childish hope in my chest if my heart hadn’t been turned to eternal ice. “Sofia . . .” My name rang like a lament from his mouth, and then he fell silent again.

He turned his head, and I watched those sharp regal features I couldn’t stop dreaming about. Maybe now I would. His shoulders tightened as he touched my inner thigh, applying the lightest pressure until my legs opened further for him. He ghosted the cloth over my sore flesh, and I shrank away with a whimper. A shadow passed his face, a remnant of his previous fury, and a flicker of fear sparked in my ribcage.

I forced myself to still as he cleaned me with light brushes, then his fingers touched my thigh lightly and I became even stiller, my breath locking in my throat. Danilo pulled back and swallowed. “You should see a doctor.”

I shook my head.

“Sofia, I want to make sure you’ll be okay.”

I shook my head again. My body would heal, and the part of me that really needed mending couldn’t be healed by a doctor. I wasn’t sure if it could be healed at all. “I’m okay,” I pressed out.

His eyes were more expressive than they’d ever been when he’d looked at me. But the emotions I saw in them weren’t the ones I wanted. There was guilt, concern, and pity. I wanted more.

I looked away, my throat closing up again. I’d never felt more stupid in my life. But deep down, beneath the shame and hurt, a fiery ball of anger had started to glow.

He bent down and kissed my half-raised knee, looking like someone was twisting a knife in his chest. The touch of his lips, so gentle and careful, kindled a flame that I squashed at once. No more.

“My first kiss.”

Danilo’s eyes snapped up to me, brimming with a myriad of emotions. “What?” he murmured.

“That was my first kiss.” It was a stupid thing to say, a ridiculous, childish thing, but I didn’t blush, didn’t feel embarrassed. Emotions were a distant memory.

He swallowed, looked down to the bloody washcloth in his hand, then squeezed his eyes shut. He leaned his cheek against my knee, his stubble scratchy against my skin. “I deserve to go to hell for this.”

I was mute. What could I possibly say? Danilo held out the panties and picked up the leather pants. “Can you get dressed?”

I reached out, and noticed a small cut in my palm, probably from holding onto the tree so hard. A trickle of blood followed the ridges in my skin. Danilo took the washcloth and cleaned the blood off my hand.

“It’s not deep,” he said.

Before he dropped my hand, he lifted it to his mouth and kissed my fingertips and my palm. He released me and I let my arm sink down to the bed. My skin still tingled from the affectionate gesture. I tried to make sense of the situation, of everything that had happened in these last few minutes and before, but my brain couldn’t process the enormity of it all.Guilt was a feeling I was intimately familiar with, a constant presence shadowing my life ever since Emma’s accident that had been affirmed after Serafina’s kidnapping.

Yet, the strength of my guilt after what I’d just done hit me by surprise.

Occasionally, I’d felt a flicker of guilt toward Sofia, but now the flicker was a roaring flame burning my insides.

Sofia lay on the bed before me, her eyes distant. I didn’t even want to imagine what images were flitting through her mind.

How I’d talked to her like she was a whore?

How I’d pushed her against the tree and tried to shove myself into her?

What was she doing here? At my lodge? At a party she had absolutely no business being? And how had she gotten in? The need to interrogate her rose in me, and with it anger, but now wasn’t the time. She was still naked and most likely in shock. I needed to get her away from here before someone found out about this.

“Sofia, you need to get dressed,” I urged her again.

She grabbed the panties and inched them up her legs, her movements slow and distracted. She had trouble getting her tight leather pants in place, so I helped her. Sitting up, she closed the zipper over her butt before she leaned back against the headboard as if the movement had already drained her of all energy.

Laughter carried through the hallway. I’d made it clear that the upstairs rooms were off limits, but obviously a few drunkards had other things on their mind. Most of the rooms were locked, except the one we were in.

I shoved to my feet and stalked to the door, ripping it open. Scowling down the hallway, I discovered Samuel with an arm around a chick. Of course, he’d be the one ignoring my order. He was dressed as a goddamn cowboy and it fit his blond sunny boy look perfectly. The girls were going crazy about him. I was enraged over his obvious disrespect for my sister before the stark realization of what I had done set in. I wasn’t any better. I was also fucking girls, and I hadn’t even realized that my latest conquest was my fiancée. I was a fucking asshole.