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Julius let a crooked, almost bitter smile tug at the corner of his mouth. “Yes, Quinn, I love you -more than I believed any man could love,” he said. “Yet I also know, with cruel rity, that the feeling you carry for me does not cut nearly as deep. From day one, our love has been lopsided.”
The woman could toss him aside as effortlessly as a child grew bored with a toy, and he, once discarded, would be left gasping for the next breath.
If it happened again, what bottomless pit would he plunge into?
“Quinn, you said you’d return to me only when your love mirrored mine,” Julius continued, voice raw. “I need it to be so deep that you, too, cannot live without me.”
Only then would he trust she would never walk away from him again.
That night, Quinn fell asleep with her fingers threaded through his, as though fear itself would pry them apart.
When dawn slid through the curtains, Julius stilly in heavy slumber.
She watched him in the hush of morning light, spellbound by the rise and fall of his chest.
Even in repose, he was disarmingly beautiful–features deeper, more sculpted than most Aplothians, a straight patrician nose, sensual lips that suggested danger and promise at once.
Somehow, icy aloofness and vivid allure–two opposing notes–resolved into perfect harmony on his face.
Bruised shadows under his eyes and the porcin cast of his skin lent him the fragility of shattered ss.
Julius had said he would ept Quinn only if she could love with equal ferocity.
But love could never be weighed or measured, so how could she ever convince him of how deeply she adored him?
She lifted a hand and brushed the tips of her fingers across hisshes, as long and dark as raven wings.
His eyes fluttered open; the soft sweep ofshes over her skin sent ripples across the stillke of her heart.
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Quinn felt the warmth of his skin linger on her fingertips. As though scalded, she jerked her hand back and leaned over the edge of the bed. Soft morning light spilled across Julius‘shes just as they fluttered open. Quinn offered a tentative smile. “Hey, you’re awake. Did you get any rest at all?”
The man’s gaze drifted, half–lidded, taking a long second to focus on the face hovering only inches away. When rity finally settled, the haze lifted from his fox–sharp eyes, and the room seemed to tighten around the two of them.
“Well enough,” he murmured, voice still rough with sleep, like gravel under velvet.
In truth, it had been more than well.
The moment her fingers threaded through his, warmth seeped into every fracture of his battered body, pulling him into the first unbroken night’s sleep he had known in months.
<i>She </i><i>is </i><i>my </i><i>medicine</i>, <i>that </i><i>much </i>I <i>know</i>. <i>Without </i><i>that </i><i>touch</i><i>, </i><i>no </i><i>sedative</i><i>, </i><i>no </i><i>doctor</i><i>, </i><i>no </i><i>set </i><i>of </i><i>pills </i><i>can </i><i>keep </i>my <i>nightmares </i><i>restrained</i>.
“Good,” she said, relief brightening her tone. “Then let’s keep doing it this way from now on.”
“Do you want to wash up? I can carry you to the bathroom,” Julius offered, already shifting upright despite the fresh sting beneath his bandages.
“No need. It’s only a few steps. I can handle it myself,” Quinn replied. The next second, she
swung
her legs over the mattress, nted the rubber tips of her crutches against the floor, and propelled herself toward the adjoining bathroom with practiced, almost jaunty determination.
Julius watched the awkward angle of her ster–encased calf disappear through the doorway, and a searing image shed behind his eyes–the burning warehouse, her arm braced beneath his, dragging him through the smoke.
Not once, not even with mes licking at her hair, had she let him fall.
But gratitude no longer satisfied the hunger coiling inside him.
He wanted more–wanted shamelessly, greedily; wanted every dawn, every night, every heartbeat that warmed her skin. <i>If </i><i>I </i><i>can’t </i><i>im </i><i>that</i><i>, </i><i>maybe </i><i>it’s </i><i>better </i><i>to </i><i>stop </i><i>here</i><i>, </i><i>for </i><i>both </i><i>our </i><i>sakes</i>.
When Quinn returned, steam still ghosting from her hair, she found Gavin bending over Julius, recing the gauze that clung to his back.
As the fresh bandage lifted, rawcerations—jagged, angry, unmistakable–came into stark view, and her breath snagged in her throat.
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“Morning, Quinn!” Gavin called, cheerful as though they were meeting over coffee instead of open wounds.
Quinn limped closer, eyes fixed on thework of injuries. “How long before those healpletely?”
“Minimum of three months,” Gavin replied without looking up, voice turning professional, crisp.
“Do we have change the dressing every day?”
“For the first month, yes,” Gavin answered promptly. “Give it another week, and we can ditch the gauze. After that, a thinyer of ointment will be enough, but he needs food–good food. He’s weak now and hasn’t been eating well, so please ensure he has his meals on time. He needs plenty of nutrition.”
“Got it,” Quinn said, nodding once.
Gavin’s eyes twinkled with mischief. “One more thing–nothing too strenuous in the bedroom until the gauze is off. You’ll split his stitches. Wait until the bandages are history, then have at it.”
Quinn choked on nothing but air, a flurry of coughs betraying her mortification. Pink climbed from her cor to her ears.
<i>Does </i><i>Gavin </i><i>think </i><i>I’m </i><i>some </i><i>predator</i>? <i>Even </i><i>if </i><i>I’m </i><i>dying </i><i>to </i><i>reconcile </i><i>with </i><i>Julius</i><i>, </i><i>I’m </i><i>hardly </i><i>going </i><i>to </i><i>pounce </i><i>while </i><i>he’s </i><i>mummified </i><i>in </i><i>gauze</i>…
Julius shot Gavin a frigid look. “You can get out now!”
“All right, I’ll get out of your hair.” With a casual shrug, Gavinyered the final strip of gauze across Julius‘ wound, snug but gentle. Satisfied, he pocketed the scissors, offered a cocky salute, and sauntered toward the door.
Julius rose carefully from the edge of the mattress, shoulders still stiff from injury. He slipped his arms into a crisp white shirt, and those long, elegant fingers fastened one button after another, each muted click restoring a piece of hisposure.
Still focused on his shirt, Julius spoke, his voice low but steady. “You don’t need to pay attention to whatever Gavin said.”
Quinn arched a brow, mischief flickering in her eyes. “Which words, exactly? You mean the part where he told me not to exhaust you in bed until the bandagese off?”
On any other day, she would have swallowed that tease before it ever reached her tongue. Yet
Chapter 425 Unequal Devotion
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his nonchnt calm–so cool it bordered on cruel–made her feel as though the only one doomed to care, the only one who would ever blush, was herself.
Julius finally lifted his gaze, te eyes steady on hers. “Yes. Pretend you never heard him.”
Quinn’s grin widened, daring. “But what if I actually want to do things to you in bed? Should I still ignore him then?”
Plop!
The silk tie slipped from the man’s fingers and hit the hardwood with a <i>soft </i>plop. For once, the wlesslyposed Julius looked utterly at a loss, his striking features tinted with a blush he could not hide.