Page 33 of Beneath Scarred Vows
I don't know if the warmth I'm feeling is still from my phantom fire trauma or from something else—or someone else—entirely.
As he towers over me, cradling my face, I start to feel safe.
I notice his gaze drops to my lips and then back up to me.
I don't look away.
The distance between us narrows. My heart is still racing, but not from fear anymore.
He leans in.
I do too without even thinking, as if my body is craving it.
We're close—so close?—
"Sir?"
A voice startles us.
Ares steps back instantly, jaw clenched. His hand drops from my face.
I turn to see Emma, the house staff member who helped me dress my first night here, standing in the doorway, eyes wide.
"I—I didn't mean to interrupt," she stammers. "We heard the alarm and they sent me to check and?—"
"It's handled," Ares says without looking at her.
Emma nods quickly and vanishes.
Silence fills the room again.
Ares backs up and leans against the sink, rubbing his chin. I stare at the charred towel in the sink for a moment, and then up at Ares.
"Thank you," I say after clearing my throat.
He looks at me for a long moment. Then, softly says, "You're welcome."
He stops leaning against the counter and straightens up, giving me a smile. "You know, there's someone that can make you?—"
"No, no, I know, I just…" I say and take a deep breath, "I like to do things like this for myself sometimes. It makes me feel normal. You know?"
"You start fires in kitchens to feel normal?" he asks with a small laugh.
I don't know why. Maybe it's the stress and anxiety leaving my body, but I lose it. I bust out laughing so hard that it causes Ares to laugh too.
In that moment, I realize there's definitely more to this man than I originally thought. First with what Calli told me about his sleepless nights, and now this. He has every right to be mad, but he knows this was a traumatic experience for me, and he's acting like a supportive husband—not the overbearing one he's trying to show.
Maybe both he and I aren't that much different after all—maybe we've both been burned by our own version of a fire before.
Shit, I think to myself as we finish laughing.
Maybe it's time I take an interest in my husband
12
KATERINA
Istir awake, arms spread wide, and I know that shouldn't be possible if someone had been sleeping beside me. I open my eyes. The room is dark and silent. There's no sound of breathing beside me, no rustling of sheets. I look at Ares's side of the bed and see that his pillow sits perfectly plumped, not a wrinkle or dent to suggest he'd been here at all.
