Captured (The Captive #1)(45)

***

Aria watched numbly, she hadn’t moved from the window seat since Jack and Braith had left to attend the banquet. They were needed there, they had to go, and neither of them wanted her anywhere near it. Braith did not think that Max would be brought, but he wasn’t willing to take the chance. No one knew how Max was going to react when he saw that Jack was one of the royal family, they did not need her presence there to complicate things.

The only problem was that they hadn’t settled anything before they left, and now she felt lost, confused, torn between her family and a man she was beginning to realize that she loved. She didn’t know when she had started to love him; she supposed it had been the night that he had comforted her after Lauren’s attack. It had been cemented by the sight of his beautiful, wounded eyes.

But what did that mean? Where did that leave her? All of them?

If she stayed here, she would forfeit her family, friends, and freedom forever. She would also have to die, probably sooner rather than later. If she left, she would be back with her loved ones, back in the life that she cherished so much, but she would be leaving a big piece of herself behind. A piece she didn’t think she would ever find again, in fact she was certain that she wouldn’t.

She thought it should be an easy choice, her home, her life and her family, or a life in a place that she didn’t understand, that was cruel, and frightening. It wasn’t even close to being easy though. Not when it meant that she would never see Braith again, never touch him or hold him or feel him again. That thought left her cold, empty, torn between freedom and a short, sweet life.

She wanted to cry, but she found that the tears would not come. Her eyes were as dry and empty as a desert. She sat for hours, unable to move as the sweet sounds of music drifted softly up from below. The sun had set awhile ago; it was late when Braith returned. She hadn’t realized that she had drifted off until she felt his arms wrapping around her. He lifted her gently from the window seat, cradling her lightly against his chest.

“Braith?” she whispered, though she knew it was. She would know him anywhere.

“Go back to sleep love.”

She curled closer against his chest, savoring in his strength and scent. Her fingers threaded inside of his coat, pushing aside the buttons on his shirt to rest her palm against his hard chest and slightly cooler skin. She sighed in contentment as her hand came into contact with his skin, caressing him lightly. It was such a wonderfully safe and secure moment that she never wanted it to end.

He placed her lightly upon his bed, pressing a soft kiss against her forehead before pulling slowly away from her. She watched through half closed eyes as he disappeared into the bathroom, pulling his coat off and tossing it aside. He disappeared from view, she listened as he moved about, fighting against the deep pull of sleep that wanted to claim her.

He was back again before she knew it, his hand upon her shoulder. “Do you want me to take your dress off?” he asked softly.

Her mouth went dry, her heart leapt wildly in her chest as fear and excitement tore through her. It was only then she realized that Maggie had not returned, he must have told her to stay away for the night. Sleep was officially forgotten in the face of his question. Did she want him to take her dress off? The relief on her ribs would be wonderful, yet the intimacy of it was terrifying.

She swallowed heavily, before nodding slowly. She was wearing a slip beneath the dress, it was just as covering as the nightgowns, and she really wanted the damn strings untied. And truth be told, she really wanted him to continue touching her. His hands were gentle upon her as he slipped the ties free, allowing her to breathe easily for the first time in hours. She heaved a sigh of relief.

“Why did you wear this thing with your ribs?” he inquired softly.

“You picked out,” she reminded him.

He stared at her for a moment, his eyes bright in the dark of the room. “I didn’t know it was like this, I simply liked the color. I thought it would like nice on you. You could have said no.”

She lay on the bed for a moment, breathing slowly in and out, relishing the full air within her lungs. “Maggie suggested it, but I didn’t think it would look right if I went against the dress you chose for me.”

He cursed softly as he sat back, his hand resting lightly upon her arm. He was no longer looking at her but staring into the dark. She knew he was wondering if it would be best for her to leave, and the thought terrified her. He turned slowly back to her, his hand stroking over her arm for a moment before he lifted her easily to her feet. Aria stared at him in surprise, her mouth parting slightly. His full mouth curved into a hard smile as he slid the dress down her, letting it pool at her feet on the ground. Her face flared with heat, she ducked it away from him as she stepped out of the material.

For the first time she truly noticed that his legs were bare, as was his chest, he wore only a pair of shorts. Her eyes widened, her mouth went dry, and her heart thumped with barely contained excitement as she stared breathlessly at him. “Arianna?”

She glanced up at him from beneath lowered lashes, struggling to control her embarrassment but failing miserably. “My friends call me Aria,” she said, for lack of anything else to say, or do.

His hand was gentle as it caressed her cheek, tilting her face so that she had to look up at him. “We’re a little more than friends, don’t you think?” he asked softly.

Her eyes widened, her heart leapt into her throat. There were no more words left in her, there was nothing she could say to that, because it was true. They were more than friends, and at that moment she would have done anything he wanted. She stepped closer to him, resting her hands on his bare chest, marveling at the broad, well muscled expanse as her fingers trailed slightly over it. He was unmoving beneath her touch, letting her explore him as she saw fit. She wanted to touch all of him, but her hands froze upon the hard ridges of his sculpted abdomen.