Infatuated (Unedited)

Chapter 21

I felt myself being moved even though I couldn't get my eyes to open. My head was beneath something warm but prickly. That scent of intoxicating cologne was in my system slowly easing the panic that has my heart thudding harshly. I can't feel the cold anymore. Strong arms just as warm as the neck my face is nuzzled into shields me from the cold. I could sleep. I want to sleep but the burning inside me holds me  between there and awake.

The vibration of his chest each time he spoke, I could feel it coursing through me. He was speaking softly in Spanish and even though I couldn't catch every word, I felt like he was trying to sooth me. Several doors opened and closed drowning out the other sounds around us. We were alone now. Wherever we were, it was just me and him.

Before I was ready, the warmth that I was molded against was gone. The hands that were beneath my back and knees were too. If I could actually control myself right now I'm sure I'd be frowning or at least grasping for him like a clingy lover. I don't understand why I have these feelings for a man I've only seen once outside my dreams but they are so strong that it's scary. As if he'd sensed my discomfort without his touch, I felt his hand slip behind my neck lifting my head off the soft back of the chair I assume I'm in.

"Rayne," I shivered at the sound of his voice so rich and as deep as each time I'd heard itin those dreams, "I need you to open your eyes for me and drink all of this water to flush your system." Open my eyes? Doing so is much harder than it seems. My lids feel as if they are glued shut and each time I even try to pry them apart it hurts. From the outside it must have looked as if I was trying because what sounded like a frustrated or impatient growl met me with a jolt. "Ahora Rayne!"

That commanding tone was the key to my undoing. My body heated at the sound of him practically yelling at me. The desire to open my eyes now wasn't to abide by his orders but to see him. Is he frowning? What does it look like? Is it just as appealing as the tone in which he just used on me? I don't understand these feelings. I don't know if I want to understand them but I do know that they are really there.

One by one my eyes fluttered open little by little but my vision was blurred. The image of his face was as distorted as the one you have when you try to see underwater without goggles. Still, that was enough for me. Once I got them half way open I focused on the half clear structure of his face before settling on his eyes. His brows were in fact lowered over them in sort of a frown that excited me.

Pressing the rim of the glass to my lips he helped me hold my head back enough to consume the ice cold liquid. Droplets rolled down my chin and neck making me painfully aware of the burning that was still there. When all of the contents of the glass was gone he sat it down and carefully ran his thumb over the stray drops making it's way to down my chest. Another shiver ran through me from the feel of his skin against mine bringing me right back to where I was before he spoke.

I blinked a few times to clear my eyes a little, smiling to myself once he came into view. To my surprise he smiled back at me. His lips pulled perfectly into a sly and sexy smile giving way to perfectly white teeth. Sharp teeth. My hand automatically went to my neck feeling the sticky puckered wounds and the sudden need to panic. Nicolas grabbed hold of my hand covering my neck pulling it away then placed his hand on the side of my face.

"I can heal it. Your neck and your face." My face? I almost forgot that my face had been scratched when the thing was holding my head to the side. Is it that bad? It has to be if he feels like he needs to heal it. "Do you trust me?" He asked so softly that it came across like a sweet caress to my ears. I didn't even hear the question enough to ponder what it meant. I did however, nod my acceptance.

The soft tips of his fingers made contact with my chin. He turned my face to the side until I was staring across the room and out the large dark window of my living room. He sat down on the ottoman in front of me still holding onto my face gently. His face was inching closer and closer filling me with the questions I'd failed to ask before agreeing.