But mostly it was because his dreams never allowed him to sleep for long. The past haunted him too much to give him peace, and while unconscious, he couldn't keep those memories away.
But as he opened his eyes and heard the wind rushing outside, he remembered where he was.
Astrid's cabin.
He'd sealed the curtains tight last night so he couldn't tell if it was still snowing outside or not. Not that it mattered. During daylight, he was trapped here.
Trapped with her.
He got out of bed and walked down the hallway, toward the kitchen. How he wished he were at home. He really needed a substantial drink. Not that the vodka could really chase away the dreams that lingered in his mind. But the burn of it was a bit distracting.
"Zarek?"
He turned at the soft voice that went down him like a silken caress. His body reacted instantly to it.
All he had to do was think her name and it made him rock-hard and needful.
"What?" He didn't know why he answered her when he normally wouldn't have.
"Are you all right?"
He snorted at that. He'd never once in his life been all right. "Do you have anything to drink in this place?"
"I have juice and tea."
"Liquor, princess. Do you have anything in this place with a bite to it?"
"Only Sasha and of course, you."
Zarek glanced down at the vicious cuts on his arm where her pet had attacked him. If he were any other Dark-Hunter those wounds would be gone now. But lucky him, they would be here for a few days more.
Just like the hole in his back.
Sighing, he reached inside the fridge and pulled out her orange juice. He opened the top and almost had the container to his lips before he remembered that it wasn't his and this wasn't his place.
The vicious side of him told him to go for it and drink it, she'd never know, but he didn't listen to that voice.
He went to the cabinet and pulled out a glass, then poured it full.
Astrid could only hear faint tell-tale signs that Zarek was still in the kitchen. He was so quiet that she had to strain just to make sure.
Walking forward, she headed for the sink. "Are you hungry?"
Out of habit, she reached out-and brushed her hand against a hot, naked hip.
It was smooth, inviting.
Scintillating.
Stunned by the unexpected sensation of her hand on his bare flesh, she lowered her hand down his leg before she realized Zarek didn't have any clothes on.
The man was fully naked in her kitchen.
Her heart hammered.
He moved away from her. "Don't touch me."
She shivered at the anger in his voice. "Where are your clothes?"