Verath the Red (Dragonwall Series #3)

Chapter 27 - Confronting Caterina

Kastali Dun

Verath listened to the subtle inhale and exhale of Desaree's breath, curled up beside him, her back against his front, nestled into the curves of his body. One arm was beneath her head, the other draped over her waist, holding her to him. He didn't sleep much, but he'd quickly grown fond of their nights together, the calm her presence brought him. Truth be told, he pretended he slept more than he did, if only as an excuse to be near her. His years of loneliness had caught up with him, driving him to form an attachment he knew was dangerous. It would only end in heartbreak. At his age, he knew better, but so did the moth when it flew directly at the flame.

He had not worked up the nerve to claim her entirely...not yet. Nor should he. His mind stumbled over that fact—fighting it. A time would come when he could no longer resist. How could he deny her? How could he hold her, but hold back? And when he did give in, what then? Would he treat her cheaply? He could not make her his wife. He could not be honorable in such a way. Not unless honor meant abstaining entirely. Even then....

A sense of guilt clawed at him, spreading through his gut. His mind flashed back to Kendra and he squeezed his eyes shut, trying to push her face away. She's gone, he argued. You had your chance, and another will never come. She's gone...The reminder was a difficult one. Kendra was similar to Desaree in looks and appearance. He only ever laid eyes on her once, but that single glimpse was burned into his mind forever. Ironically, he'd sought a woman similar, perhaps a reminder, if only to torture himself with a shadow of what could have been. The same brown eyes. The same velvety chocolate hair. He cursed under his breath, pushing these thoughts away.

An abrupt knock sounded at the door. "Two hours before dawn," came the call. That damned guard! He'd flay the man next he saw him, if these ridiculous wake-up calls didn't stop. But Desaree insisted on waking up early, even in Claire's absence. He could hear her voice even now. "There's an apartment to keep clean. I want everything spotless when she returns."

Desaree stirred against him, igniting a fire in his abdomen. "Is it time?" she murmured, the words sleepy. He liked her like this, unguarded, at ease, comfortable in his arms.

He smiled, nuzzling his nose against the back of her neck. "Not if you don't wish. Sleep a little longer. It's good for you."

"Mmm." She pushed herself deeper against him, into his arms.

He held back a growl of sexual frustration, scooting his hips away so that she wouldn't feel his hardness against her back. "Besides," he added, "didn't you clean Claire's apartment yesterday? And the day before? How much cleaning does it need?"

"Mmm-hmm." Her eyelids were still closed.

"Good. Then go back to sleep."

At this, she stretched, catlike as she scooted away from him. "I function better on a schedule. You know that." She moved onto her elbows to look up at him, holding his gaze. "Good morning," she whispered, offering him a shy smile. She leaned forward and gave him a chaste peck on his nose and got out of bed.

He turned on his side to watch her, propping his head on his palm. "Any special plans today?"

She paused. "No. Not really. Madame Rosanne is going to drop off Claire's ball gown. I need to inspect it. Find some accessories for it. Otherwise, it should be a quiet day." She glanced at him. "What of you? How did things go in the city yesterday? You said you had business there?"

He gnawed on the inside of his cheek. "Yes, all went well. Nothing serious."

She lifted an eyebrow. "Why do I get the feeling you're hiding something from me?"