Dreadnought (Nemesis #1)(31)

Without a word, he got up and left the room.

Minutes seemed to pass before he came back with a box. Returning to the edge of the bed, he opened it, revealing a first-aid kit.

“Come closer to me,” he instructed in a melodic voice.

She found herself obeying him, scooting slightly closer. It was either that or he would move her himself.

“You are going to let me touch you now, darlin’.” He didn’t ask for permission; he was telling her.

“N-No.” She tried to scoot back, but he leaned into her, placing both hands on either side of her and giving her no space and nowhere to run.

The voice that was once melodic turned dark and commanding. “You will let me touch you now.”

She closed her eyes, holding her breath. This was it; the time had come.

Holding as still as possible, she felt cold fingertips lightly touch her fire-hot hands. His cold ones turned hers over and began to soothe over her palms.

She opened her eyes then to see Lucca’s full attention on her skin. It almost seemed like he was memorizing her hands as his cold fingertips smoothed over the inflamed areas, carefully dancing around her cuts.

His hands left hers, going into the kit and pouring alcohol onto a pad. When the cold touch returned, she slightly jumped back, making him look into her eyes.

Staring into his, she saw they now appeared fully green, without a trace of any blue.

“This will hurt.”

She nodded slowly, unable to look away from his green depths.

Now when he touched her, she didn’t move away from his touch. She found herself unable to look away from him. It was like she was glimpsing a different side of him.

He pulled his eyes away from hers, bringing his attention back to her hands. Bits of his dark hair that was usually slicked back had fallen in front of his face. He uncaringly left them there while he tended to her hands. It looked like … he cared, if that was even possible.

It did sting when he swiped the pad along her cuts, but physical pain no longer bothered her. It could never compare to the pain of mental torture she’d had and still continued to endure.

Lucca took his time cleaning each cut, making sure not to miss any open wounds. Going into the box again, he then pulled out an ointment and started applying it to the entirety of her palms.

The ointment felt good on her raw skin, along with his light, icy touch. She was still mesmerized by the man before her.

He then took his time wrapping each hand with white gauze. After it was secured, he brushed his finger over one of her polished nails.

“I like this color.”

Feeling the need to explain the dark purple shade, she said, “M-Maria picked it.”

“It looks nice against your light skin,” he murmured.

Chloe seemed to snap out of it when his fingers lingered on hers for a moment longer. She quickly pulled her hands away from his, unable to stand the closeness of him any longer.

Did I just let him …? She swallowed hard, not understanding how she had let him touch her for so long.

When he packed up his case, his green eyes disappeared, along with his softer demeanor. “I want you to trim your nails tomorrow when you wake up.” He got up, turning the bedside light off. “Go back to sleep.”

Breathing heavily, she lay back down, scooting to the middle of the bed and securing herself under the covers like it would protect her from him.

She watched his dark figure move through her room and into the attached bathroom where he closed the door behind him.

Trying to slow down her breathing, she took long, deep breaths. You will let me touch you now …

She could still feel the icy touch that smoothed over her pained palms, like they had been imprinted by his motions. She should have revolted against his touch, but instead, it was like he had put a spell on her.

She could hear the water running in the bathroom, the sound bringing her calmness.

Go back to sleep …

Another long, deep breath and she closed her eyes, drifting off. It was obvious his spell still had a hold on her.



Lucca washed his hands then splashed the cold water onto his face, trying to get himself under control. Touching her while she watched had been better than anything he had ever experienced in his life. He had touched many women, but not one who felt like her.

If he had to go the rest of his life only able to simply touch her, he would. Even if that meant his dark side would never be appeased by the twisted things it wanted to do to her, he could live with that.

It was everything he could do not to go back out there and do it all over again.

Do it, his darkness whispered.

Pushing back his hair with his damp hands, he tried to push out the image of running his fingers over her scars.

You know you want to …

“Shut up,” he whispered harshly at himself in the mirror.

As much as he wanted to, now wasn’t the time. She was more frightened of him than ever, thanks to Maria. He had wanted to be the one who told her when she was ready to accept him for who he was. Now everything he had worked for to get her to be comfortable with him, to trust him, had flown out the window, and he was starting back from square one.

Going to the bathroom door, he switched off the light then opened the door, staring out into the room and seeing Chloe already fast asleep.

He quietly took a seat on the chair in the corner. Leaning back, he got comfortable for the night ahead, not wanting to leave her to the nightmares again.