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She was off-limits.
And yet.
He couldn’t stop the way his heart tripped over itself whenever she smiled or shot him one of her knowing, understanding glances. He couldn’t stop wanting to be the one she turned to for comfort instead of his dog. The way her thumb traced absent patterns on Raszta’s fur as she slept made him wonder how it would feel to have those gentle fingers tracing over his skin instead. He hadn’t been touched with kindness in so long that he’d almost forgotten what it felt like, but looking at Rhia now, he could almost imagine it.
Rhiannon Cross was more dangerous to him than Halston or anyone else who wanted his secrets. She was dangerous because he wanted to let her in, wanted to share those secrets and his fears, and wanted her to understand him in a way no one else did. She was dangerous because she could unravel him.
And that was a vulnerability he couldn’t afford.
He watched her sleep for a while longer, his heart pounding heavily in his chest with a longing so fierce it made his breath hitch. Before he could question his actions, he found himself moving, closing the distance between them.
Raszta’s ears twitched at his approach, the dog lifting his head a fraction before snuggling closer to Rhia. He scowled at his dog. The little shit was rubbing it in.
He made a hand motion, commanding Raszta to move.Go to bed.
Razzy opened one eye and looked at him, his tail thunking lightly. He didn’t seem at all inclined to obey.
Pierce gave the signal again, more insistent this time.Bed.
With a grumble, the dog uncurled himself from Rhiannon’s side, moving to his own sleeping mat. Her hand fell limply onto the mat after Raszta left, an unconscious frown marring her peaceful face.
He reached out, hesitating for a moment before letting his fingers lightly graze her hand. His touch, as light as it was, drew her from the depths of sleep, and he immediately felt guilty for disturbing her rest.
Her eyes fluttered open, meeting his, and confusion turned into surprise, then to a soft understanding. A gentle smile tugged at her lips. “Can’t sleep?”
“Sorry,”he signed.“I don’t know why… I shouldn’t have…”
“It’s okay.” She sat up, drawing her knees to her chest, and patted the mat beside her. “Join me.”
He hesitated and glanced at Raszta, who was watching them with a stink eye, then dropped to the mat.
She said nothing for a few moments, just sat there with her arms wrapped around her knees. That beautiful green-gold gaze studied him, and he felt strangely exposed under her scrutiny. Yet he didn’t look away. Couldn’t. He saw his chance atredemption in those gentle eyes, and the possibility of it gripped his heart with an iron fist.
“Nightmares?” she asked finally.
He didn’t want to answer. Didn’t want her to know about the horrors that haunted his dreams. But he found himself giving a single nod in response.
Her gaze softened, and she reached out to touch his hand. “You don’t have to tell me what they’re about if you don’t want to.”
He looked at their hands, her fingers so small and soft next to his battle-scarred ones. His heart hammered against his ribs, and for a moment, he was tempted to pull away, to retreat into the safety of his silence. But he didn’t. He stayed, his hand beneath hers, the warmth of her touch seeping into him, grounding him.
“Here.” She scooted over on the mat and lay down. “Join me. I’ll scare the nightmares away.”
“Because you’re so scary,”he signed before he thought better of it.
She laughed softly and then bared her teeth in a very unconvincing snarl. “Iamscary. Bad dreams don’t stand a chance against me.”
He believed that. Not because she was fearsome or formidable but because she was warm and kind, and her very presence seemed to chase away the shadows that clung to him.
Despite himself, he found a genuine smile tugging at his lips. She did have that effect on him.
She patted the space beside her again. “Come on.”
He hesitated for just a moment longer before lowering himself onto the mat, his body rigid as he kept a respectful distance between them.
For a while, neither of them spoke. The quiet of the night enveloped them, the distant creaks of the building and softbreaths of the others the only sounds breaking the stillness. Pierce lay on his back, staring up at the dim ceiling, acutely aware of how close Rhiannon was. Even with the distance he kept between them, he could feel the warmth radiating from her. It was oddly soothing, the kind of warmth that chased away the cold lingering in his bones from years of silence and isolation.
“You don’t have to carry so many secrets, you know,” she said softly.
