Celine's POV
For a moment, I wondered who this man, Cassian, was, who was somehow doing the right things. He wasn't hard or cold; he handled me differently, softly, like I was a tender flower, the roses in his bath, that could wither if not appropriately treated.
And in this position, on his arm, as he led me to his bed, I stared into his face, but I couldn't fathom that he was calm, not cold, and that calmness frightened me.
As he lay me gently on the bed, I couldn't stop thinking, "He could be planning something worse, and just giving me the best pampering in preparation for that, he could be testing me, trying to trap my emotions too."
It's ok, he had my body, I can't let him control my emotions too.
My mind wouldn't rest. But then again, his touch tonight wasn't like before. It wasn't angry or claiming; it was measured, deliberate, and almost human.
He dropped me on the bed and pulled the towel he had put over me in the bath out from me.
