Dance with the Devil(82)

"Love?" He laughed at the thought. "Who the hell needs that? I've lived my entire life without it. I don't need it and I damn sure don't want it from anyone."

She stood strong before him. Unyielding. "You can lie to yourself all you want to, but I know the truth." She held her hand out to him. "You have to learn to trust someone, Zarek. You've been brave your whole life. Now show me that courage. Take my hand. Trust me and I swear I won't betray you."

He stood there indecisively, his heart pounding. He'd never been more terrified.

Not even the day they'd killed him.

"Trust me, please. I will never hurt you."

He stared at her hand. It was long, graceful. Delicate. A tiny hand.

A lover's hand.

He wanted to run.

Instead, he found himself lifting his hand and lacing his fingers with hers.

Tears fell down Astrid's cheeks as she felt the warm strength of his hand on hers; as she saw his long, tapered fingers twined with hers.

His hand was large, masculine and it enveloped hers with power.

Those hands had killed, but they had also protected. They had cared for her and pleasured her.

By this simple action, she knew she had finally made contact with him.

She had just reached the unreachable.

Then the contact was lost.

Zarek's face hardened as he jerked his hand away from hers. "I don't want to be changed. Not by you. Not by anyone."

Snarling in anger, he pushed past her and marched out the door.

Astrid did something she had never done before.

She cursed.

Damn him for not staying. Damn him for being so stupid.

"I told you, he's a hard-ass."

She turned to see M'Adoc standing behind her, staring out the door after Zarek who was trudging shirtless through the snow.

"How long have you been eavesdropping?" she asked the Oneroi.

"Not that long. I know when not to intrude on a dream."

She narrowed her eyes meaningfully at him. "You better."

Disregarding her and her unspoken threat, he moved to watch Zarek make his way across the snow.

"So what are you going to do now?" he asked.

"Beat him with a stick until he listens to reason."

"You wouldn't be the first one to try that," M'Adoc said dryly. "The thing is, he's immune to it."

She let out a long, weary breath. It was true.