Total pages in book: 112
Estimated words: 102901 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 515(@200wpm)___ 412(@250wpm)___ 343(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 102901 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 515(@200wpm)___ 412(@250wpm)___ 343(@300wpm)
When the rooms finally quieted, Maria rose and tiptoed to where Raphael now slept soundly, his sheets haphazardly wrapped around him, preserving his modesty. His brow was damp, and dark circles pitted beneath his eyes. Maria unconsciously reached her hand out, her fingers grazing the soft strand of dark hair that forever fell over Raphael’s eyes. She pulled her hand back, but didn’t move. Her feet were planted to the ground. There was an ache in her chest that compelled her to keep vigil beside this man, this killer.
Because Maria had never met anyone like him. She’d never met anyone who shared the ailment of nightmares that seemed so real they were debilitating. As Raphael rolled to his front, Maria’s eyes fixed on the scars that littered his back. She closed her eyes and could feel the burning of her scars too.
Is that why I’m here? Maria silently asked God. Because I understand? She opened her eyes and looked at Raphael. One dweller of dark, one dweller of light, brought together to collide? To share the burdens of their pasts . . . to heal?
As warmth flooded Maria’s chest, she knew it was the truth. She climbed back into her bed, and she found sleep.
Her duty to Raphael would begin come morning. She didn’t dwell on the flicker of excitement in her heart. She simply placed herself in God’s knowing hands, and fell asleep.
Chapter Eight
Maria awoke to the sound of food being brought into the rooms by a member of staff. She blinked into the lightening room. She stretched her muscles and sat up, just in time for Raphael to appear at her doorway.
His dark hair was damp; he must have already showered. His golden eyes were bright, and if Maria didn’t still have the evidence of dried tears on her cheeks, she would never think that she’d witnessed his nightmares.
Maria’s blood spiked in temperature as she dropped her eyes the minute she broke through her sleep and remembered the rules. “My good little rose,” Raphael praised. Maria felt that praise deep in her bones. “But you can meet my eyes until you’ve eaten and showered.” Maria did as he said. “Come.”
She followed Raphael into the room where they had eaten last night. A domed dish was waiting for her. Raphael was holding a mug of coffee in his hand, the strong, comforting smell settling some of her nerves. He must have already eaten.
As with the previous night, Raphael pulled her chair out for to sit. She ate quickly and in silence. It wasn’t uncomfortable. She did it every day at the monastery. Raphael cleared aside the dishes, then offered his hand and guided her into the bathroom. Raphael moved her hair from her shoulder and said into her ear, “When you come out, the rules will apply.” Maria nodded, closing her eyes against the shiver his warm breath brought to her neck. “Do you remember what you are to do first?”
“Yes, my lord.”
“Good. Then go.” Maria’s legs were weak as she showered. A new dress was waiting for her in the bathroom, casually hung over the door. After washing her body thoroughly and shaving it of all its hair, she changed into the dress.
Maria’s pulse beat a heady rhythm as she opened the door. As promised, Raphael was waiting for her. He sat on the red chair and wore the same black silk pajama pants as the day before, his chest bare. He rose from the seat and silently stood behind it, waiting. Maria dropped her eyes and sat down, hands on her lap. Raphael immediately began brushing her hair; “Ring a-round the Roses” quietly hummed from his lips. The haunting sound echoed deep in her heart, sending shivers down her spine. Maria’s body was tired, but her mind was wide awake as she wondered what would happen in the coming hours.
She breathed in and out. Whatever awaited her, she was ready. God was with her.
The hot air from the dryer traveled through her tight shoulders, relaxing the muscles as Raphael’s soft singing voice created a soundtrack. She closed her eyes and relished the moment. When Raphael had brushed the final strand of her hair, he came around to face her. She kept her eyes down.
“Lift your head.”
Maria did as commanded, only to see Raphael move to a new vase of roses sitting on a set of drawers against the opposite wall. The roses this time were a deep pink. Maria wondered where they were coming from. Taking the biggest flower, Raphael brought it over and threaded the thorn-less stem behind her ear. When he moved back, the small smile he wore dropped, and he ordered, “Get on my bed.”
Maria’s breathing deepened at the sharp order. She held her hands together as if they were still tucked in her nun’s robes. She quickly got to her feet. Raphael wouldn’t want to be kept waiting. The carpet was soft on her heels and toes, the color a vibrant blood red. Then red gave way to black as she arrived at the side of the bed. She saw Raphael’s feet beside hers. He didn’t say a thing, just waited for her to climb onto the mattress. Maria sat on the edge and kept her head downcast.