Page 24 of Touch Of Fate
The emotions of the day hit me, and my body requires sleep. As much as I hate taking my eyes off her, I need to regenerate.
If tomorrow is as exciting as today, I must be prepared for anything.
Chapter Six
Mara
Waking with the sun, I stare at the beautiful man beside me. Rome slept in my bed. He took care of me after my magic took all my energy, and I don’t know how to feel about it. I should reflect on the spells I cast to help kill Jerry, and my loss of control. Dealing with my emotions would be the mature, responsible thing to do, but all I can think about is Rome. His touch makes me feel for the first time since Mom was alive. I’ve been floating, barely surviving through life. My only concern has been Lace and keeping her safe. I’ve never considered itsomething I had to do, even though it was. It wasn’t a chore. I love her. Any kind of pleasure hasn’t been a priority.
Rome has an aura about him. He’s calm and confident. I’ve seen his humor as he speaks to Archer and his aunt. He’s sexy, and I want to press against him and smell his spicy scent. His magic is almost visible to me, always there, hovering, ready to be used at will. I wonder how old he is? He must be older than I am. It’s difficult to tell with those who have magic, since our bodies don’t age.
The covers lie at his waist, and his shirt is pulled tight against his chest. I can see his tattoos on his neck and the top of his chest. I have the urge to slide my hand under the fabric there and feel the silkiness of his skin. I don’t have the guts to do it, though. Not that I don’t believe he would welcome it, but I’m not skilled enough with men to know what he would like. My body is pushing me to be closer, give in, and feel for the first time in years. My heart is damaged enough to override the thought. Trust is something I don’t do. I know he wouldn’t hurt me physically. He could break my heart.
His arm is bent under his head, and his other is next to me, his hand resting on his chest. I love the rings he wears. They are all silver and on every finger. I wonder about them, and the story he must have about them. It fits the image he portrays. Hearing about his family was beautiful, and instead of feeling jealous of his luck, I was glad. I would hate it if he felt the pain of loss. I already care about his feelings and the burdens he carries.
My magic has a new depth since he walked into my life. His power enhances mine, building it to a level I never thought possible. Witches believe in energy, good and bad. My energy has been murky and slow since the Games. My guilt has colored how I see myself, so I have used as little magic as possible. I know I need to come to terms with the role I played in keeping the shifters in cages. There were spells I should have tried, andmagic I could have pushed to get out of the cage. I’ve thought about all the ways I should have acted differently, but my power was stifled by fear. Lace was the only person I had left in the world; she didn’t deserve to pay for my mistakes.
Telling Rome about my past will be uncomfortable. I am scared he will judge me for my actions, but I want him.
“Did I snore too loud?” Rome rumbles, and I see his eyes open.
“Huh?”
“Is that why you are awake so early?” he asks, tilting his head.
“No.” I smile. “I always wake up early. I would love to sleep in.” When I was younger, I could sleep until noon. Being held in a cage surrounded by cries, fury, and pain makes a girl sleep lightly.
“Mornings are supposed to be slept through,” he drawls, his lips tipping.
“I wish,” I whisper, staring into his beautiful green eyes. “It’s the first time I’ve woken up with a man beside me.” Honesty, it seems, comes easily for me with him.
“Really?” He lifts an eyebrow and rolls to face me.
“Yes.” I lick my lips.
“I like that,” he murmurs, his gaze moving over my face. “But I’m selfish and I don’t like imagining you with anyone else.”
“It kills the mood when I have to wear gloves in bed,” I say dryly.
“I think I would like leather against my skin.”
I snort. “Too bad. I don’t need to wear them with you.” His eyes crinkle. “It’s odd. I don’t remember where I left them.”
“We left them by the bookshelves.” He reaches out, rubbing the ends of my hair. “I’m thrilled you don’t need them with me.”
“So am I,” I whisper, shivering from his simple touch. “It will be a difficult habit to break. I have several pairs hidden around the store and the house.”
“I’ll help,” he says roughly.
“Did you sleep well?” I ask nervously. His presence is overwhelming.
“I did.” He watches me steadily.
“Good.” I bite my lip. Rome has scruff across his face, barely there, but enough that it would leave marks on my face. I loved feeling it when he kissed me, and I want it again. Being alone for so long has made me yearn for contact with another person. I haven’t missed having sex. I have missed the gentle touch on my cheek, hand, and the safety of a hug.
“Mara,” he says softly, and I blink. I was staring at his mouth. “I’m trying to be a gentleman. Stop staring.”
“Do you have a lot of experience with being a gentleman?” I ask, lifting a brow.
