Page 11 of Infernal

“I…don’t know.”

His eyes flicked back up to mine. “Stop playing games with me, angel. I don’t like it.”

“That’s not what I’m doing.”

“Isn’t it?”

“No.”

“Then what are you doing?”

The truth was, I had no freaking idea what I was doing. “I just…I couldn’t sleep, and I didn’t want to be alone.”

“I see.” He appeared to be considering it. “So, you’re just using me then,” he stated simply.

“What? No!” My face immediately reddened with embarrassment. “That’s not what I’m doing.”

I mean, at least I didn’t think it was.

The corner of his lip pulled up into a lopsided grin. “I didn’t say I minded.”

I couldn’t help but crack a smile at that, but it quickly fell away as my shame rushed in to bury it. How could I be smiling at a time like this?

“Don’t do that,” he said, brushing his thumb against my lips.

“What?”

“Hide your smile.” He picked up my chin so that I was looking directly into his eyes. “You deserve to smile, angel. Don’t ever let yourself believe differently.”

I wasn’t sure why, but his words loosened something inside me, and suddenly, my throat felt thick with sorrow.

“I really should go back to my room now,” I said, avoiding his eyes, even though he was standing close enough to me that I could almost taste him.

“Why is that?”

“Because I’m about to start crying, Dominic, and I’d rather not do that in front of you.”

“I think it’s a little late for that,” he said as he reached out and brushed away a tear with his thumb. His dark eyes remained transfixed on me when he said, “You know I hate to see you cry, angel.”

That may have been true, but he sure as hell was watching me.

“Fell free to look away then,” I offered plainly as more tears fell, streaking my cheeks with their salty residue.

“I can’t for the life of me figure out how to do that.”

My breath staled in my throat, momentarily pausing my waterfalls as I met his eyes. I couldn’t take it when he spoke to me that way. Words too soft and stripped down to be from someone like Dominic, and yet they were. It was confusing and frustrating, and it did strange things to me…like urging me to get closer to him, to touch him, to let him in…things that threatened me with absolute annihilation.

“Stop saying stuff like that to me,” I said as I white-knuckled myself in place.

“Why?”

“Because it confuses me,” I answered honestly, not bothering to dilute the truth.

“You’d rather I insult you then?”

“Yes.”Wait. “No. That’s not what I meant.”

“I see what you mean about being confused.”

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