Page 23 of Twisted Obsession

We lie there in silence, the darkness a comforting blanket around us. I can hear Roisin's breathing gradually slow and deepen as she drifts back to sleep.

As soon as I know she’s settled, my own exhaustion overwhelms me, the comfortable bed lulling me into my own slumber.

I wake to soft morning light and the gentle weight of Roisin's head on my chest. Sometime during the night, we gravitated towards each other, our bodies seeking comfort in sleep. Her titian hair is spread across my shoulder, and her arm is draped over my torso.

For a moment, I allow myself to savor the warmth and intimacy of our position. Then reality intrudes, and I carefully begin to extricate myself, not wanting to wake her or make things awkward.

But as I start to move, Roisin stirs. Her eyes flutter open, confusion evident in her gaze as she takes in our intimate position. For a heartbeat, we both freeze, unsure how to react. Then a soft blush spreads across her cheeks, and she hurriedly pulls away, nearly tumbling off the bed in her haste.

"I'm so sorry," she stammers, not meeting my eyes. "I didn't mean to... I must have moved in my sleep."

"It's alright," I assure her, trying to keep my voice steady despite the rapid pounding of my heart. "No harm done."

An awkward silence descends as we both sit up, carefully maintaining distance between us. I clear my throat, searching for something to say that will ease the tension.

"Did you sleep better?" I finally ask. "No more nightmares?"

Roisin nods, her gaze still fixed on the rumpled bed sheets. "Yes, thank you. I... I felt safe with you here."

Her words send a jolt through me, a mix of protectiveness and something deeper that I'm not ready to examine too closely. Iswing my legs over the side of the bed, needing some physical distance to clear my head.

"I'm glad I could help," I say, trying to keep my tone light. "How about I get us some breakfast?"

Roisin nods gratefully, finally meeting my eyes. "That would be nice. Thank you, Dominic."

I head to the kitchens, thankful for the chance to compose myself, but I still can't shake the lingering warmth of Roisin's body against mine, the scent of her hair. I need to get a grip.

Kaiden comes in while I’m piling the tray with double helpings and narrows his eyes at me. I wait for him to say something, but when he does, it’s not what I expect. “Vito and most of his goons just left, but he’s on the warpath, just so you know. I’m supposed to be snooping around to see what I can find out from Mika, but I’m guessing you’re the one in the know.”

“Talk to Mika, he’ll give you something,” I suggest. We agreed we’d have his back, and that means throwing the guy a bone when he’s trying to cover for us, so he doesn’t get rumbled.

Kaiden heads for the door and looks out. “It’s a good time for a quiet breakfast,” he tells me when he turns back, nodding towards the tray.

Clapping him on the back in appreciation, I grab the tray and head back to Roisin. True to Kaiden’s word, there’s no one in sight.

I slip back into the room, balancing the heavily laden tray. Roisin has tidied the bed and is sitting on the edge, her hair hastily pulled back into a messy bun. She looks up as I enter, a shy smile on her face.

"I hope you're hungry," I say, setting the tray down on the small table in front of the couch. "I may have gone a bit overboard."

Roisin's eyes widen at the array of food. "This is wonderful, thank you. I didn't realize how famished I was until just now."

“You barely ate yesterday,” I remind her as we both sit down to eat, the awkwardness from earlier dissipating as we tuck into the meal. For a while, we eat in companionable silence, the simple act of sharing food somehow more intimate than our unintentional embrace. It feels like every atom in my body is super aware of her.

Jeez, what’s wrong with me? I feel like I’ve turned into some kind of sap.

As we finish our meal, I can't help but notice Roisin sneaking glances at me when she thinks I'm not looking. There's a softness in her eyes that makes my breath catch, but also a wariness that reminds me of our precarious situation.

Not wanting to examine my growing reaction to her, I pile up the tray. “I’ll take this back to the kitchen,” I tell her, without giving her a chance to respond. Fuck! I need to regain control of my wayward libido.

“Right, I’ll take a shower,” she mumbles, but I’m not really listening, too intent on getting out of there before I do something stupid.

I can’t hide out forever, of course. And I can’t risk Vito or any of those loyal to him seeing me hanging around when I’ve told him I’m doing a job for Mika. And right now, there’s no telling exactly whose eyes are on me, so I strengthen my resolve and make my way back to the staff wing.

That’s when everything goes to hell in a handbasket. Walking into the room, I find Roisin fresh out of the shower, a tiny towel the only thing covering her, apart from the beads of water that glisten on her pale skin.

I freeze in the doorway, my eyes involuntarily trailing over Roisin's damp skin. She gasps, clutching the towel tighter to her body, but doesn't move. We stand there, locked in a moment of charged silence, the air between us crackling with tension.

"I'm sorry," I manage to croak out, my voice rougher than I intend. "I should have knocked."

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