Chapter 83 Playing with Fire

Chapter 83 Playing with Fire

Isabella's POV

"Shut up. Don't move. Don't make a sound. I won't touch you."

I could feel him desperately suppressing that primal urge. His arm around my waist was hard as stone.

I don't know how much time passed. Maybe it was exhaustion after all that tension, or maybe it was that pine scent on him that was particularly comforting. My body gradually relaxed, and drowsiness washed over me.

But I never dared truly fall asleep. I just lay there in his arms, drifting, never fully under.

I didn't move.

I was completely nestled in Terrence's embrace. My face was pressed against his chest, and I could feel it rise and fall with each breath. One of his legs was draped over mine, and that strong arm was still locked tightly around my waist.

That terrifying hardness had softened, but his body temperature was still alarmingly high.

I should push him away. I was Maurice's girlfriend. How could I be lying in Maurice's own brother's arms and actually feel this comfortable, so reluctant to leave?

But I just couldn't bear to.

This was the most peaceful sleep I'd had in three years. No nightmares, no anxiety, no fear of being abandoned at any moment.

My hands had been tucked against my chest, but now they reached out without thinking. I traced along his arm, extremely slowly, touching gently with my fingertips. His muscles were very firm, but when I touched the inside of his forearm, my fingertip suddenly hit an extremely rough ridge.

It was a scar. Very long, extending from his elbow all the way down near his wrist, like a twisted, raised ridge crawling across his skin.

I froze, my fingertip stopping on that scar.

"Awake?"

His low, hoarse voice came from above my head. He wasn't asleep.

I jumped, instinctively wanting to pull my hand back, but he caught my fingers instead.

"What are you touching?" he asked.

"This…" I swallowed, my voice very soft. "How did this happen?"

In the darkness, he was silent for a while. I thought he didn't want to talk about it.

"In Kanduz," he said suddenly. "A night raid mission. We were trapped in an abandoned building, completely pinned down by gunfire outside."

I held my breath, listening quietly.

"There was a new guy in the squad, only nineteen. He broke down, couldn't handle the pressure. Had a mental breakdown. He pulled out his combat knife and started swinging wildly, screaming. If he kept yelling, our whole squad would've been exposed."

"Then what?"

"I had to subdue him. But I couldn't shoot, couldn't break his neck either. So I rushed him, blocked his knife with my arm, then knocked him out. The wound was deep. Deep enough to see bone. Field medical conditions were terrible, no anesthesia. The medic used thick needles and stitched me up with thirty-four stitches."

Thirty-four stitches. No anesthesia.

I couldn't imagine what kind of unbearable pain that must have been. My eyes immediately welled up, and my fingertips traced that rough scar again.

"That's not fair. You saved him, saved the whole squad, and you're the only one left with such a big scar."

Terrence laughed quietly.

"There's no fairness on the battlefield, Isabella. Surviving is the greatest fairness."

As he spoke, the hand on my back suddenly began to move, extremely slowly. His fingers, through that thin nightshirt, traced circles on my spine, round and round, gently. It was an intimate, soothing gesture. That small patch of skin on my back felt like it had been set on fire, tingling sensations running up my nerves all the way to the top of my head.

"I'm sorry," I said, burying my face in his chest, my voice muffled.

"Sorry for what?"

"I ruined your night. You only see those war buddies once a year, but because of my phone call, you ran off to deal with my mess. And I forced you to stay in this crappy bed…"

"Isabella, if I didn't want to come, even if you got beaten to death in that alley, I wouldn't have answered that call."

His words were still so cold, so merciless. But I heard the indulgence in them.

I couldn't help it—I laughed softly.

The room fell quiet again. Only our overlapping breaths could be heard.

I lay in his arms, listening to his strong heartbeat, that thought in my mind becoming clearer and clearer.

I was done for. Completely done for. I had fallen in love with him. Not some kind of dependence on an elder, not some kind of admiration for someone strong. I wanted him. I wanted those rough hands to touch me, wanted his cold lips to kiss me, wanted those eyes that saw through everything to look only at me.

This was insane. I was Maurice's girlfriend, and he was Maurice's own brother. This feeling was sinful, was a betrayal, could never be made public.

What was even sadder was that I knew this was all one-sided. The only reason he was here was because he was a responsible man. He couldn't stand Maurice's cowardice and sympathized with my situation. He was good to me the same way he blocked that knife for that broken-down recruit on the battlefield—purely out of a protector's instinct. He couldn't possibly have any feelings for me. How could a man like him be interested in his own brother's woman?

I buried my face deep in his chest, tears silently soaking into his black T-shirt. I couldn't let him know. Absolutely not. As long as I didn't say anything, I could continue to crave the occasional tenderness he gave.

Time passed minute by minute. Terrence's breathing gradually became steady and even, and the hand on my back slowly stopped moving. It looked like he had fallen asleep.

I lifted my head slightly, and in the faint light coming through the window, I looked at his face so close to mine. His eyes were closed, his long lashes casting shadows in his eye sockets. The line of his jaw was sharp as a blade.

I felt like I'd lost my mind. 

I knew this was risky, but I couldn't control myself. Extremely slowly, bit by bit, I moved closer to him. 

My lips were trembling. I didn't dare kiss his lips. I just lowered my head and pressed my lips gently, extremely carefully, against that rough scar on the inside of his arm. 

Only for a brief second. 

Then I immediately pulled back, ready to curl back into his embrace and pretend nothing had happened.

The instant I pulled away, in the darkness, the man who should have been sound asleep suddenly tensed every muscle. The next second, everything spun. 

Before I could even cry out, a tremendous force flipped me onto the bed. 

Terrence's large, heavy body pressed down directly on top of me. One of his legs forced its way between mine, and his hands pinned my wrists firmly on either side of the pillow.

"Isabella, do you know what you just did?"