Page 62 of Stolen Seconds

It felt like a damned eternity before her eyes shot open and she gasped.

Relief flooded my system instantly, and I picked her up, wrapping my arms around her.

She coughed against me, clutching my back as if anchoring herself. “Luca?”

“I’m here.” I rubbed her back. “I’m here.”

She buried her face in the crook of my neck, inhaling deeply as her body trembled.

“How often does this happen?”

She pressed further into me, the beat of her heart clashing against my own.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Her head shook, and I clenched my teeth.

“I’m holding onto scraps here, Irina.”

She leaned back and faced me, her eyes searching mine in dread. “I’m tired, Luca.” Her voice wavered. “Can you. . . can you just hold me? Only for tonight.Please.”

A disturbing feeling settled in the pit of my stomach.

There was a rawness to her words that put me on high alert. And as I held her in my arms, my mind raced with the possibility that her nightmare wasn’t a figment of her imagination, but her reality.

I recalled the night she’d shot that woman in front of me. It had left me curious more than anything how she was capable of killing someone in cold blood. Not that I was any different but with Irina, it only made questions arise.

And I knew there wasn’t an ounce of good conscience in me because I should’ve told Roman that his wife’s best friend might be a psychopath, but I kept my mouth shut.

For some fucked up reason, I wanted to unravel Irina’s secrets and keep them for myself.

Pieces started to come together, yet the puzzle was distorted and the only way I could figure it out was if Irina fully trusted me.

I nudged under her chin lazily as I said, “You never have to say please,piccola ribelle.”

Grabbing her by the waist, I laid us down on the bed. Her amber scent calmed my staggered thoughts as I enveloped her in my embrace.

She clung to me; our bodies entwined beneath the covers, and I could feel warmth seep into her skin again.

“Thank you,” she said against my chest, her breathing evening out before she dozed off to sleep.

This time, there was no nightmare.

Chapter 17

Irina

I’d been awake for an hour, wrapped in Luca’s warmth.

I watched him sleep, admiring the lines and crevices of his rugged face.

His body was covered in tattoos, starting from his neck, and each design was intricate, weaving around his muscles—a work of art.

An unfamiliar sensation bubbled in the pit of my stomach and, for some unknown reason, I wanted to stay in his embrace.

Was it so wrong for me to want that?

He’d seen me at my worst multiple times and didn’t loathe me for it.

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