Daimon (Guardians of Hades #6) - Felicity Heaton Page 0,78
force she expected him to poke a hole straight through it.
The water warmed, deliciously hot.
He settled back beside her again and slipped his left hand into the water, took hold of hers and inspected it.
Cass sucked down a breath, and then looked down at her hands, afraid of what she would see. Relief washed through her. They looked better—flushed pink and not blue or black.
Daimon gently submerged her hands and chunks of ice formed on the surface. “Sorry.”
He went to take his hand away and she tried to stop him but wasn’t fast enough.
She rubbed her hands together, sneaking a glance at him as he frowned at the panel again. The blood that had been covering him was gone, but the lacerations in his roll-neck remained, and the long gashes that were visible on his chest, shoulders and arms were angry red and still seeping blood in places.
“Will you be all right?” she whispered. “The cuts—”
“Already healing,” he interjected, sending another wave of relief through her, this one so strong that she spoke before considering the consequences.
“Why did you let them cut you?”
Guilt danced across his noble features and he turned his cheek to her, and her stomach fell as he all but confirmed she had been right. He had let the daemons hurt him.
She gathered her courage and lifted her hand. Water sluiced down her bare arm and dripped from her elbow, the sound mingling with the gentle bubbling to fill the thick silence.
Daimon tensed when she touched his cheek, and then he closed his eyes, frowned and exhaled through his nose as he leaned into her palm.
“Tell me, please?” she murmured.
This time, he turned his face the other way, away from her, placing himself beyond her reach. He stood and backed off a step, and fear seized her again.
“Stay,” she commanded. Her heart lurched into her throat. “Don’t leave me. I need you here. I need to know.”
“You don’t… and I don’t want to talk about it. Let it go.” He turned and stalked into the house.
Like hell she would.
Cass gritted her teeth, gripped the edge of the tub and pushed herself up. The water weighed her down, making her legs tremble beneath her, but it quickly drained noisily into the tub. Her entire body shook as she lifted her left leg, clutching the tub as she laboured for breath. Her muscles cramped and protested, bones burned but she pushed onwards.
She managed to get her leg over the side of the tub.
Her foot pressed against the broad white tiles of the terrace.
Her leg gave out the moment she put all her weight onto it and she shrieked as the flagstones came at her.
Strong arms banded around her waist and stopped her from hitting it face-first.
Daimon pulled her onto her feet and set her down, muttering, “Foolish woman.”
She felt as though she was. She was pursuing a man who wanted nothing to do with her, a man who electrified her and made her feel alive for the first time in her long life. A man she didn’t want to leave.
She hadn’t been prepared for this—for him.
Cass looked up at him, her brow furrowed as her eyes locked with his.
His beauty, the melancholy he wore, the heat that shimmered just beneath his frosty surface, all of it had entranced her.
Bewitched her.
Now, she didn’t want to leave him even when he made her feel as if there was no point in her staying.
More of her strength returned, enough that she could probably cast smaller spells if she dared, maybe even transport herself if she pushed herself hard enough.
A gasp tore from her lips as he slid the zipper on the side of her corset down and her heart jerked, her hand flying to the front of the garment to keep it against her breasts.
“Just trying to get you warm. Getting you out of these wet things is a good place to start.” He averted his eyes. “If I didn’t think you’d fall on your arse, I’d let you do it yourself.”
Cass hesitated, told herself not to read into things and failed dismally.
“I know how you can warm me.” She looked up into his eyes when he glanced at her. “Kiss me.”
He glowered at her. “No.”
“Why not?” She sidled closer, pressing her body to his, and some of the ice in his eyes melted, giving way to heat.
“I can’t,” he croaked.
“Sure you can. Just purse your lips.” She tilted her head up and leaned towards him. “Press them to mine.”