Secret Heir (Dynasty #1)(52)

“God, Jaz, you really know how to chip away at a guy’s ego,” he says. His tone is light hearted, but I think I see a flash of hurt in those blue eyes, although I’m probably just imagining it.

“Which is perfect for you, because your ego could use some chipping.”

He chuckles at that.

“Anyway, about the game …”

I throw my hands up in frustration.

“Oh god, okay, if you stop bugging me about it, I’ll go.”

His smile lights up his entire face and those perfect dimples pop out, making it impossible for me not to smile back.

He pulls me in for a hug and although I don’t return the hug, I also don’t pull away. I try not to notice the deafening silence that has descended on the tables around us or Dani’s shit-eating grin.





18





I think I must be fast asleep and dreaming, but I can hear Raph’s voice in the night. I can’t make out the words but I hear the anguish in his voice.

Consciousness taps at my senses and I drag myself out of sleep as the impact of Raph’s large frame tossing and turning causes my bed to quake.

I look over to the other side of the large bed where he’s lying with the sheets tangled around his waist. It’s dark in my room, but the silvery moonlight beaming in through the large French windows illuminates the bed just enough so that I can see that Raph’s bare chest is gleaming with sweat and the beads of moisture glistening on his face.

Alarm spikes inside me and I don’t even stop to think before I reach over to him. I take his face in my hands, telling him to wake up. He’s having some kind of nightmare and I don’t know why, but the sight of him like this affects me in a way I can’t understand.

He continues to thrash for a moment longer before those startlingly blue eyes snap open. They’re hazy and out of focus at first, though. Dazed as he grasps for consciousness. The flash of vulnerability in those eyes, so at odds with his usual arrogance, does something to me that I can’t explain.

He blinks up at me for a few seconds. Neither of us says anything. Neither of us moves. His eyes register my face above his and I might be imagining it, but it’s as if the sight chases the shadows from his eyes.

The darkness is thick with something that I can’t even begin to understand or maybe it’s just that I’m not ready to. My hands are still holding his face and when he reaches up to cup my elbows, I don’t stop him. We’re so close, that I can feel the running stag clamor of his heart. I can feel every breath he takes against my skin, as he attempts to steady his breathing.

“You were dreaming,” I say finally, in an attempt to slice through the charged air.

He’s silent in response.

“Do you want to talk about it?” I ask quietly, although I’m not sure that allowing myself to delve beneath Raph’s surface is entirely safe for me.

He shakes his head then. “Not right now.” His voice is husky with sleep and with the memory of whatever it was that haunted him in it.

He slowly pulls me closer after a moment, until my head is resting on his chest. His arms circle me, holding me to him.

I don’t know whether it’s the glimpse of a part of Raph which I’m sure no one in the entire universe has ever seen, or whether it’s the merely the cover of night which makes me feel like every secret is safe in this dark place. But I don’t make a move to pull away. There are a million reasons why this shouldn’t be happening, but in that moment, I don’t allow myself to hear them. I don’t allow myself to even think.

We stay that way for what seems like an eternity.

“Is this why you don’t ever sleep with anyone?” I find myself asking finally. I don’t know where the question came from and I don’t expect Raph to answer. But he does.

“Yes.” He says simply and it feels like he’s saying a great many things with just that one word. But I’m not ready to hear them. I force myself not to think about what any of this means, closing my eyes instead, as I force myself back to sleep.



I wake up to the feeling of something solid wrapped around my waist and my back pressed up against a wall of warmth.

I think I must still be dreaming, as I look down and see golden skin with a dusting of fine golden hairs—an arm? It’s wrapped around my waist. I feel something tickling my ear and my throat. The feeling sends a shiver down my spine.

“Hmmm.” I hear Raph’s voice in my ear and then the feeling of something brushing against the side of my neck. It feels like he’s breathing in the very scent of me.

As consciousness taps against my senses, I feel Raph’s bare skin against mine and my own skin burns everywhere it makes contact with his—which is in a lot places. His bare chest is pressed up against my back, with only the thin material of my too small sleeping vest between us. His bare legs are tangled up with mine. My goddamn hand is resting on top of his.

I’m jolted awake when I feel his other hand against the bare skin at my abdomen, where my vest has ridden up. I feel something long and hard pressing against my back which makes heat pool in my core, and muscles I didn’t even know existed, clench tightly.

I bolt upright and Raph rolls sleepily onto his back. It strikes me again how young he looks when he’s asleep, innocent almost. But there was nothing innocent about what I’d just felt pressed up against me.