Page 19 of Mated in Flames
Luciana
When I wake up in the morning, my first thought is of David.
It might seem strange, especially since I slept with another man last night. But the reason is because I didn’t think of David at all yesterday. Not once did his face float in my mind as Warwick touched me.
And my thoughts of him now are calm and gentle. It was as though, in allowing myself to be with someone else, I was finally letting go. He’s been gone for far too long. In many ways, I had already grieved him long ago. I had just needed to allow myself to move on.
I rolled my head to the side to look at Warwick. He’s peaceful in sleep, snorting softly as he curls into the pillow, oddly adorable considering how tall and muscled he is.
Last night was not something I had expected. Part of me knows it only happened because we had both been drinking and because we both had memories we were trying to chase away. But, somehow, none of that matters. I can’t bring myself to regret it.
A few days ago, when Warwick and I first met, I would never have imagined ending up here. But so much has happened in a small period of time and, for some reason that I can’t explain, being here right now with Warwick feels more right than anything else I have ever done in my life.
Then Warwick’s phone, which he had placed on the nightstand, rings.
Warwick snorts loudly and starts awake, blinking wildly. For a moment, as he looks around, there’s no comprehension in his eyes and then he looks at me. His face clears and he snatches up his phone.
“Dane, hi,” he says, trying to inject cheer into his voice.
Then he winces. I can well imagine what the other, stricter brother was saying right now.
“Sorry, last night was just a lot,” Warwick says after a moment. “Let me just clear my head, okay? I’m fine, and I’ll be back later today.”
Dane replies and Warwick smiles softly.
“I will,” he says. “See you later.”
He hangs up and turns to me.
“Sorry, Dane was worried,” he says.
“I’m not surprised,” I point out. “After what happened yesterday, he’d be wanting to make sure you were okay.”
“I am okay,” Warwick replies. “More than okay.”
There’s so much warmth in his gaze that I look away, stunned by it and not sure where it has come from.
“Um, coffee?” I cough.
We get up and dress quietly before heading out to my small kitchen. I pull the kettle out and put it on to boil. Then I jump as arms slide around my waist from behind before I can reach for some mugs.
“We probably need to talk about last night, right?” Warwick asks, his breath tickling my ear and sending a shiver down my spine.
“Yeah,” I say, my voice cracking slightly. I clear my throat. “Do you want anything to eat?”
“Just coffee is fine for now,” Warwick says, pulling away, and I feel an odd sense of loss.
I make the coffees and carry them over to the small dining table, sitting across from Warwick. I can feel a throbbing mark on my neck, where Warwick had sucked on my skin last night, and I busy myself with looking down into the dark liquid, trying not to think about it too much.
“Thank you for allowing me in last night,” Warwick finally says. “I was just…”
He trails off, searching for the words.
“Overwhelmed?” I suggest. “‘I’ve met many people who saw the deaths of loved ones, and they all felt the same way. I’ve seen patients die right in my arms. It’s never easy, and it’s doubly hard when it’s someone you care for.”
“Have you ever had that?” Warwick asks.
I think of David and wince.
