world trembled when Atar shook her shoulder. Nikia reached out for his hand but seemed to be encased in molasses. She moved much too slowly to make the connection.
Give up! Illiana’s shriek echoed through her mind. Gone was the seductive, soothing tone she had used to lull Nikia into this trancelike state. You can’t win.
But she wasn’t ready to concede defeat. The fight was futile but all she needed to do was buy time. In a flash of clarity, she knew she wouldn’t meekly return to Corsova and accept punishment for her mother’s crimes. She had to get to Belarus. She owed herself a chance at life. Whatever it took, she had to go there.
Nikia struggled against the essence imprisoning her, whimpering. When Illiana tried to force her way into her mind, Nikia lashed out at her. Her newfound conviction aided her in attempting to repel her mother, giving her new strength.
She cried out when Illiana tried again, shaking her body with the force of her efforts. Nikia wasn’t sure what was reality and what was a trick imposed by her mother. Her body trembled under the onslaught and she reached out for Atar. Her hand closed around his, bringing a renewed sense of order. As Illiana tried once more, she repelled her with a shred of strength she summoned from a hidden reserve.
She was weak and exhausted. Tremors still coursed through her and darkness tried to enshroud her. Cautiously, Nikia tested the blackness to see if Illiana’s presence lurked inside, waiting to consume her. She found nothing but tranquility and allowed herself to surrender to unconsciousness.
* * * * *
Atar stared in dismay as Nikia collapsed forward in her seat. Convulsions shook her body and he reached out for her without thought. She nestled into his arms as though made to fit there but the tremors racked through her just the same. She murmured something but he couldn’t make out what she said. He leaned forward, trying to make out her words and recoiled when they clarified.
“Atar,” she said repeatedly, thrashing in his arms. It was almost as if she was trying to free herself from bonds he couldn’t see.
He jumped with surprise when the flight attendant touched his arm. He looked up at her, knowing her frightened gaze mirrored his.
“ Signor , shall I ask the pilot to return us to da Vinci?”
He hesitated, torn between the need to return Nikia to Corsova as quickly as possible, before doing something crazy like taking her to bed and the need to ensure her safety. “I…”
As his silence lapsed, her trembling subsided. He looked down again, brushing the hair off her forehead. Her pallor alarmed him but she lay quietly now, appearing to be asleep, rather than in the throes of a seizure. “No, she’s fine now.”
The dark-haired attendant’s uncertainty was blatant in her expression. “Are you convinced?”
He nodded, brushing aside the hint of impatience she inspired. He wanted to be alone with Nikia, not have the girl hovering over him. “Yes. I’ll let you know if we require assistance.”
With a soft sound expressing her disapproval, the girl turned away to the next aisle, leaving Atar staring down at the woman in his arms.
Her cinnamon-brown hair was a ragged slash across her forehead, falling back into place each time he brushed it aside. Dark smudges under her eyes betrayed lack of rest, as did the lines crimping the corners of her mouth.
He traced the contours of her lips with his eyes and then followed them with the pad of his thumb. A sigh escaped her and her breath fanned over his digit, sending flutters of desire shooting through him. He shifted his position, trying to ease the pressure of his cock when it swelled against the confines of his jeans.
He should put her back in her seat. It was wrong to clasp her this way, to allow himself to feel aroused by her presence, when she was unconscious. Still, he couldn’t seem to relinquish his hold.
Atar stroked the softness of her cheek, once again turning over in his
Give up! Illiana’s shriek echoed through her mind. Gone was the seductive, soothing tone she had used to lull Nikia into this trancelike state. You can’t win.
But she wasn’t ready to concede defeat. The fight was futile but all she needed to do was buy time. In a flash of clarity, she knew she wouldn’t meekly return to Corsova and accept punishment for her mother’s crimes. She had to get to Belarus. She owed herself a chance at life. Whatever it took, she had to go there.
Nikia struggled against the essence imprisoning her, whimpering. When Illiana tried to force her way into her mind, Nikia lashed out at her. Her newfound conviction aided her in attempting to repel her mother, giving her new strength.
She cried out when Illiana tried again, shaking her body with the force of her efforts. Nikia wasn’t sure what was reality and what was a trick imposed by her mother. Her body trembled under the onslaught and she reached out for Atar. Her hand closed around his, bringing a renewed sense of order. As Illiana tried once more, she repelled her with a shred of strength she summoned from a hidden reserve.
She was weak and exhausted. Tremors still coursed through her and darkness tried to enshroud her. Cautiously, Nikia tested the blackness to see if Illiana’s presence lurked inside, waiting to consume her. She found nothing but tranquility and allowed herself to surrender to unconsciousness.
* * * * *
Atar stared in dismay as Nikia collapsed forward in her seat. Convulsions shook her body and he reached out for her without thought. She nestled into his arms as though made to fit there but the tremors racked through her just the same. She murmured something but he couldn’t make out what she said. He leaned forward, trying to make out her words and recoiled when they clarified.
“Atar,” she said repeatedly, thrashing in his arms. It was almost as if she was trying to free herself from bonds he couldn’t see.
He jumped with surprise when the flight attendant touched his arm. He looked up at her, knowing her frightened gaze mirrored his.
“ Signor , shall I ask the pilot to return us to da Vinci?”
He hesitated, torn between the need to return Nikia to Corsova as quickly as possible, before doing something crazy like taking her to bed and the need to ensure her safety. “I…”
As his silence lapsed, her trembling subsided. He looked down again, brushing the hair off her forehead. Her pallor alarmed him but she lay quietly now, appearing to be asleep, rather than in the throes of a seizure. “No, she’s fine now.”
The dark-haired attendant’s uncertainty was blatant in her expression. “Are you convinced?”
He nodded, brushing aside the hint of impatience she inspired. He wanted to be alone with Nikia, not have the girl hovering over him. “Yes. I’ll let you know if we require assistance.”
With a soft sound expressing her disapproval, the girl turned away to the next aisle, leaving Atar staring down at the woman in his arms.
Her cinnamon-brown hair was a ragged slash across her forehead, falling back into place each time he brushed it aside. Dark smudges under her eyes betrayed lack of rest, as did the lines crimping the corners of her mouth.
He traced the contours of her lips with his eyes and then followed them with the pad of his thumb. A sigh escaped her and her breath fanned over his digit, sending flutters of desire shooting through him. He shifted his position, trying to ease the pressure of his cock when it swelled against the confines of his jeans.
He should put her back in her seat. It was wrong to clasp her this way, to allow himself to feel aroused by her presence, when she was unconscious. Still, he couldn’t seem to relinquish his hold.
Atar stroked the softness of her cheek, once again turning over in his
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