The Sacrificial Lamb (22 page)

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Authors: Elle Fiore

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Romance, #Contemporary, #Romantic Suspense, #Mystery & Suspense, #Suspense

BOOK: The Sacrificial Lamb
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Alex expected Domenic to simply let her go once he made sure she had regained her balance, but he didn’t. His arms tightened around her, and his head bent closer. She could have sworn he inhaled deeply, but she was concentrating so hard on keeping her face down, she wasn’t exactly sure.

“We should go inside,” she said, repeating his words from moments before. Domenic swallowed, his Adam’s apple moving along the column of his throat. All she would have to do was lean up and forward just a little for her mouth to find his. As she contemplated this, his arms loosened and he stepped away from her.

“Right.” Domenic bent down to get the blanket and folded it in swift, precise movements, keeping his back to her. He took a deep breath and turned to her with a cordial look on his face. “Let’s go in.” Making a gesture with his arm, he indicated she should go first, so she walked ahead of him.

When they got in the cabin, Alex went to grab her book and then turned to Domenic. “I’m just going to call it a night.”

“Okay,” he said simply. “I’ll be out here for a while if you need anything.” He gave her a very intense and meaningful look, and it was all Alex could do to turn away from him and go to her room.

Once again she found herself on her bed, pillow over her head, wondering what the hell she was doing. What was it about this man that kept drawing her in? Yes, he was incredibly good-looking, but Alex didn’t think she was shallow enough to focus solely on his outward appearance. Maybe it was the fact he had saved her life a handful of times. Who didn’t love a hero? That thought appealed to her, but she still didn’t think that was right. Feeling indebted to Domenic was one thing, but the looks that turned her insides to molten lava had nothing to do with feeling like she owed him for helping her out of a bad situation.

Whatever it was, she knew she wouldn’t figure it out tonight, and perhaps it was best if she never did.

18

W
HEN
A
LEX
W
ALKED
into her room, Domenic exhaled sharply. What had he been thinking, bringing her out to look at the stars? Just the two of them, surrounded by darkness, on a blanket. That was definitely not conducive to pure thoughts. All he knew was that she had been sad and he wanted to get her mind off of things. Domenic couldn’t distract her the way he wanted to, so he figured showing off a little astronomy knowledge would impress her and cheer her up. Of course everything changed whenever he was in close proximity to Alex. He had been perilously close to laying his body on top of hers and claiming her as his.

Fucking bird
.

Actually, he should have been relieved that they were interrupted. Domenic had to keep reminding himself that Alex was off limits—no matter how much his libido surged. She wasn’t some floozy to be seduced at a whim. Fantasies aside, he didn’t want to use her just so that he could gratify his own baser needs.

Even though he tried to deny the knowledge, his attraction to her wasn’t purely physical. Domenic remembered feeling sorry for John Montgomery, and next thing he knew he was getting emotionally invested. He had promised himself he would never get attached to anyone for fear of them being hurt to spite him. And now here he was. It was a big
fuck you
from Fate.

Domenic stared at Alex’s bedroom door, willing her to come back out. Preferably naked. He winced as the mental image invaded his mind. What he lacked in actual fact, he was more than happy to supply with imagination. She would be smooth and golden-skinned, round at breast, hip, and thigh. Her breasts would be coral-tipped and fit perfectly in the palms of his hands. Domenic imagined what she would sound like in the throes of passion, and groaned.

Alex had made her way into his dreams as well as his daytime fantasies, and he was losing his mind. Domenic looked down into his lap and cursed being a man. He had a visible problem now, and things would just get worse if he didn’t take care of it. Grumbling, he got up to take yet another cold shower.

As usual, the shower didn’t take long. He wrapped the towel around his waist and left the bathroom. As he was about to enter his room, he heard Alex’s voice, so he went to her door to listen. As he was about to walk away, dismissing it as just an overactive imagination, he heard her speak again. It was unintelligible through the doorway, however. Domenic hesitated before tapping on the door, turning the handle at the same time. Pushing inward, he looked into Alex’s room. It seemed like she was asleep.

When he was about to close the door, she spoke again.

“Domenic,” she mumbled quite distinctly. He stood still, unsure if she had woken up and had seen him or if she was talking in her sleep.

“Domenic,” she sighed again and rolled to her side. The moonlight from the window fell across her face, and he could see she was still very much asleep. She was dreaming about him?

Starting to feel a bit intrusive, he went to leave her room.

“Don’t go,” Alex whispered. His head swiveled back to make sure she was still sleeping, and she was. “Please, don’t leave me.”

“I won’t. Sleep now, Alex,” he whispered. A ghost of a smile touched her lips, and she settled deeper into her pillow.

Domenic stood there a few more minutes, waiting to see if she would speak again, but she remained silent. He closed the door behind him and went to his room. While he dressed, Domenic felt absurdly happy that she had been saying his name in her sleep. Even more so because she had asked him not to leave her.

The smile slid off his face as he realized it would be next to impossible to keep that promise. When these two weeks were over, their time together would be as well. Alex would disappear as if she’d never existed. Domenic tried to imagine what life would be like without her, and it seemed a dismal place. Pacing around the room, he picked things up and put them back down. Once he’d run out of things to look at, he pulled out his duffel bag and began meticulously checking and cleaning the weapons he’d brought with him.

Domenic chided himself, thinking that he had lived alone just fine for years before the arrival of Alexis Montgomery. Thinking about those years, however, he began to realize they hadn’t been happy ones. They had been filled with hatred, treachery, deceit, and all-consuming thoughts of vengeance. They had also been filled with loneliness.

This was the happiest he had been since his father had been murdered. Right here, right now. Perhaps it was because he was away from the Liseni. Away from Carlo’s scheming face. Away from the life he abhorred and had no choice but to live. That may have been part of it, but he was starting to believe most of it had to do with the girl.

That was why he had tried to push her away. Yes, he’d been upset at her for continuing to ask about Bianca, but he had been angrier at the fact that he
wanted
to tell her the story. He had shouldered this burden for years on his own, never once finding a person he was willing to share his life with, yet now that was all he wanted.

Domenic had hated himself when the hurt had shown plainly on Alex’s face. Then he had watched her transform into the vixen from the night before. Fighting him—hectic spots of red burning high on her cheeks. He should have just grabbed her and kissed her like he wanted to. Made her bend to his will. It was a close call.

Why couldn’t she just heed his warning? Domenic could never be what she needed, and yet he could feel her drawing inexorably closer. It was hard to convince a person that you were no good for them after you had saved their life. Repeatedly. Domenic should have tried to drive the point home, but looking into her large, luminous eyes, he just couldn’t do it. No matter how much he wanted to make her see this was all wrong, at the same time he
wanted
it to be right.

There was the problem right there. He wanted to be able to whisk Alex away for good. Not just for this brief idyllic amount of time allotted to him. It was becoming harder to resist her, and he was afraid of what would happen when they had to reenter the real world. Both of their lives would be irrevocably changed. He automatically shied away from the reality of it. They would just have to enjoy this time they had together and deal with what happened afterward, when the moment came.

Domenic’s dreams had been filled with soft sighs and caresses. It was difficult to see Alex in the morning and not pick up where his nocturnal musings left off. Of course she was oblivious to the feelings he fought against. But then he remembered how she said his name in her sleep, and he wondered if perhaps she was having a difficult time as well.

He watched Alex sitting across from him, nibbling on a piece of toast. Her hair was damp from her morning shower and falling in loose curls over her shoulders. Her skin was glowing from being freshly scrubbed, a beautiful shade of peaches and cream. She was still reading
Catcher in the Rye
and had it open in front of her on the table.

“Did you sleep well?” he asked solicitously.

“Mmhmm,” she said, eyes flicking up to meet his. “You?”

“Very.”

She smiled at him absentmindedly before returning to her book.

Domenic contemplated asking her about the sleep talking, but then he would have to admit he had entered her room without permission. There was a good chance she didn’t remember dreaming about him at all. That thought made him frown. If she was dreaming about him, he wanted her to remember every second. He would just have to content himself with the fact it was
his
name she was calling out and not her boyfriend’s.

Domenic’s sheer vanity surprised even him at times.

Breakfast went by without much talk, and then they reconvened in the living room as they had done the day before. Alex chose the armchair and curled her legs up under her. Domenic stretched out on the couch and stared at her. It seemed as if she was ignoring him on purpose, and that bothered him. And then he was annoyed by the fact it bothered him. It seemed there was no pleasing him today.

“Alex?”

“Mmm?”

“Why did you try to escape the warehouse?”

“Wouldn’t you?” she asked, looking at him from over her book, eyebrows raised.

“No, I mean why did you do it alone? Why didn’t you wait for me?”

“Didn’t we go over this already?”

“Yes. You said I was late, but I was only about half an hour later than I’d anticipated,” he pointed out.

“But I didn’t know that. I wasn’t sure if you would ever come back.”

“Is that the only reason?” Something in her voice didn’t sound right.

“I…” She hesitated and fiddled with the book in her hands. Domenic rolled onto his side so he could see her better, but she wouldn’t look at him. “I didn’t want to get you more involved,” she said all in a rush and glanced up at him. He couldn’t decipher the expression on her face.

“Why?”

“I was trying to protect you.”

“Protect
me?”
Domenic was flabbergasted at her thought process. “What made you think I needed to be protected?”

“Well, when Mr. Mean—or whatever that guy’s name was—said you were fascinated with me—” at this point she gave him a sidelong glance, and he felt color rush to his face “—I figured if we both went missing, you would be in danger. But if I got out when you weren’t around, then no one could blame you.”

“Oh,” he said, taken aback. The fact that she had been trying to keep
him
from danger, while being in such an unsafe situation herself, made a small kernel of heat bloom in his stomach. Then he remembered something else—she hadn’t given her father his name during the phone call.

“To paraphrase something you said,
why do you care?”
he asked softly.

“Pardon?”

“Alex, why would you care what happened to me? First, you didn’t give your father my name. Then, you decided to try to escape without my help to protect me. Your words, not mine. Why?”

“Because you were nice to me.” Alex frowned down into her lap, steadfastly ignoring his gaze.

“That’s it? Because I was nice to you?”

“I guess.”

“So, if Marco had been nicer to you, you would have done the same for him?”

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