I Want You To Want Me. Kathy Love

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СКАЧАТЬ hurt you.”

      “You are! You are already!”

      He frowned, not understanding. Surely his light touch couldn’t have caused her pain. And he didn’t intend to threaten her, but he stepped back anyway, giving her space.

      “Erika, please tell me what’s going—”

      Before he could even finish his question, another scream tore from her throat. Then another until Vittorio couldn’t stop himself from reaching for her, pulling her against him until she was on his lap, her rigid body cradled against him.

      “Erika?” He held her, smoothing his hand down the delicate curve of her spine, making soothing nonsensical sounds, willing her to calm.

      Finally she did relax, her head nestling under his chin, her fingers lax and curled against his chest.

      He held her, unsure what to do. Finally, he shifted her slightly, trying to see her face. Her eyes were closed, her breathing even.

      Had she just been dreaming?

      He held her for a while longer, allowing his own body to relax along with hers. She hadn’t even been awake when she’d been gaping in terror at some dreamed villain.

      He held her for a moment longer, savoring the feeling of her in his arms, her slight weight, the sultry scent of cinnamon clinging to her flawless, almost translucent skin. Her soft rear end situated perfectly against him.

      He fought back a groan as his body reacted, much against his will. That was when he sensed her energy flowing around him, spinning like a fragrant, enticing cocoon, encompassing them both. He’d been able to ignore it when he’d been shaken by her screams. Now he couldn’t. She smelled and felt too good.

      He breathed in deeply, relishing the satisfying sensation of her delightful energy deep inside him. Then he froze, abruptly halting himself. God, what was he doing? He never took his energy like this—one on one. When he did feed, he went into crowds, taking from many. Keeping it impersonal, unemotional.

      Quickly, yet carefully, he edged Erika away from him, arranging her on the cushions and sliding out from underneath her. But as he stood and started toward the door, Erika stirred.

      “Vittorio,” she murmured as she blinked up to catch him at the end of the sofa.

      Then she immediately sat upright, her hand going to her chest, her eyes wide as she realized he was real. Not a part of another vivid dream.

      “Vittorio?” Her voice was raspy from sleep. The sound brushed over his skin as powerful and enticing as her smell, as her energy. His nerve-endings tingled.

      He didn’t respond, his body in overdrive, his mind blank.

      “What are you doing here?”

      “I—I heard you screaming.”

      She frowned, clearly confused, then remembrance dawned on her face. “Oh, yes, I had the worst dream. Someone was trying to kill me.”

      He nodded, having deduced the nightmare had been something along those lines. “Yes.”

      He didn’t know what else to say. He just knew he had to get out of there.

      She brushed back her dark hair from her face and released a shuddering breath. “I’m sorry if I disturbed you.”

      Yes, she definitely disturbed him, but not in the way she meant. First he’d been terrified right along with her, and now he was painfully attracted to her. Oh yeah, she disturbed him all right.

      She sat there for a moment, her gaze distant, fear still lingering in her eyes. Even though this look was much better than the wide-eyed, unblinking stare she’d had as she’d dreamed.

      “I can’t remember ever having a nightmare that horrible. And that realistic.” She shivered, wrapping her arms around her midsection.

      Vittorio’s fingers twitched with the longing to touch her, to comfort her. But he couldn’t. It might seem like a compassionate gesture, but really, it would be the height of selfishness.

      She shivered again, but then forced a smile. “I don’t think I’ll be going to sleep again right away.”

      She slid her legs off the sofa and sat up, clearly trying to shake off the residual effects of the dream.

      She stared at the coffee table, again in that way that indicated she wasn’t really seeing the table. But he noted the plate of sticky-looking bars she’d made for him. Half of them were gone. And he felt a pang about that. She’d come down and eaten them herself. The unwanted offering. Somehow the image upset him. He should have just taken them. What harm would there have been in that?

      “I figured, why let them go to waste.”

      Vittorio’s eyes met hers, startled to realize she’d followed his stare and was explaining the missing pieces.

      He met her gaze again, pulled in by the grayness of her eyes. Stormy blue at times. Then all dove gray and soft-hearted other times. And somewhere in between now. Shaken and uncertain.

      He glanced back at the plate, then asked, “Are you okay now?”

      She nodded, then her lips twisted into a pained grimace. “I hate to be this silly, but will you stay while I go check the other rooms? I really do feel—jumpy.”

      That was the least Vittorio could do. After all, until he saw her on the sofa alone, he’d thought her screams could have been caused by something he’d brought upon her. The idea sickened him, like the nausea from earlier in the bar.

      “Let me check,” he offered, heading toward her hallway.

      “Thank you,” she said in a small voice, but he didn’t glance back in her direction.

      The way she looked, delicate and scared, called to him. He wanted to hold her, protect her. But his presence would not give her protection. Even if he wasn’t right about the deaths of the women in his past being connected to him, he wasn’t the type of guy who’d be any good at playing the knight in shining armor.

      Not to mention, he was simply too attracted to her energy. He wanted to sample it, to feel it inside himself.

      He headed down the dark hall. The rooms were still, and he didn’t sense anything there but the vibe of Erika herself. Her energy seemed to permeate the old walls, giving the whole apartment a new, warm feeling.

      Yearning flared inside him, reinforcing why he had to get out of here, quickly.

      Still, when he reached her bedroom, he flipped on the light, telling himself it was for her benefit—and certainly not his own curiosity. He paused in the doorway, surveying all the nuances of the room.

      Her bed was piled with pillows and covered with a plush velvet duvet in a rich deep blue. Gilded lamps with bead-fringed shades sat on each side of the large bed. An oval mirror hung on one wall and a painting of cherubs took up a majority of the wall behind the bed.

      The room could have reminded him of a baroque bordello, but instead Vittorio found himself appreciating the flow of colors and textures. It was a СКАЧАТЬ