Page 25 of Wait for You

Gracias a Dios!

“Gen! What happened?” Mat lifted her from the floor, but she didn’t have enough air to tell him yet.

Cradling her in his arms, he sat them on the bed, scooting to lean against the headboard. “I can feel your heart racing.”

“Nightmare,” she panted as she buried her head in his chest. “Can’t”—she gasped—“dark.”

“Shh,” Mat soothed. “You’re safe. Focus on your breathin’. Big deep inhales,querida.”

She didn’t know if it was his embrace or his soft words, but she already felt better. Her heart settled down as she made herself take a deep breath and let it out slowly. When her throat no longer felt so constricted, her neck warmed with embarrassment.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, not wanting to meet Mat’s gaze. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”At least, not like that.More warmth flooded her, but it wasn’t like he could read her salacious thoughts.

His arms tightened around her. “I’m glad I woke up.” He paused, his voice dropping before he asked, “Can you tell me what happened?”

With a sigh, Imogen shifted to face him. His eyes searched her face, worry clear in their depths. Reaching for his hands, she held on as she whispered the horrifying words, “I dreamt thatEl Jaguarkilled you.”

Though she watched him closely, his face showed no reaction. “That’s not going to happen.”

Despite the assurance, he couldn’t know that. Working undercover meant he was in danger—every single second.

“Is that why you panicked?”

“No”—she shook her head—“um, it was . . .” Imogen swallowed around the sudden lump in her throat and tried again. She’d freaked out on him twice now. He had a right to know. “It was the dark.” She chewed her lip, then forced the words out. “Complete blackness triggers my claustrophobia because when I was little . . .”

“You can tell me, Gen.” He squeezed her hands. “Maybe if I knew, I could help.”

She took a deep breath, steadying herself before reliving her worst childhood memory. “One of the teachers at the boarding school liked to punish students by locking them in a darkconfessional. Sometimes, for hours. I was eight the first time she put me in there.”

“That ain’t right,” Mat growled, and she found herself soothing him.

“No, but it happened.” She brushed her thumbs across the backs of his hands as she continued, “I thought I’d gotten over it. I haven’t had an attack in years, but I guess I just got good at avoiding dark, enclosed spaces.” She managed a self-deprecating smile, but he didn’t return it.

“How come you never . . .” he paused as if he wasn’t sure how to ask without offending her, “when we were together before?”

Thinking about it made her sigh. “I usually leave some form of light on, even just a slit in the curtains to let in the streetlight works.”

Mat winced. “They’re blackouts. I worked a lot of nights before this assignment. I got ’em to help me sleep durin’ the day.”

“Can we crack one, please?” She hated how tinny her voice sounded.

Mat leaned in and kissed her softly on the lips. “We’ll crack both.”

His easy acceptance smoothed the last of her anxiety. “Thank you.”

He nodded and climbed out of bed to open the curtains. When moonlight filtered through the windows, she exhaled a relieved breath, gaze tracking over the room. The space was familiar, and it wasn’t a dark confessional. It did seem . . .emptierthan she remembered.

If Mat had a style, she’d call it minimalist, but the bedroom had a spartan feel. Nothing personal, no family photos, just the necessary items like a bed and a dresser. She didn’t remember it feeling that way before, but if he wasn’t spending much time here, maybe that was why. It could use some throw pillows, alamp, and photos of them together on the dresser. Imogen shook herself and stopped decorating a home she didn’t live in. Even if she wanted to.

“You can turn off the bathroom light now. I don’t need both.” A blush flushed her face, but she fought it. She might feel foolish, but Mat didn’t seem to think she was.

“All right.”

After he switched it off, she patted the spot beside her. When he climbed back into bed, she trailed a hand down his chest, whispering, “I was planning to do this before.”

His eyebrow lifted in question as she leaned in and placed her lips on his.

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