Marissa tossed aside the blanket, stood and retrieved the pillow. A strange noise caught her attention. She glanced over her shoulder in the direction of Jarrett’s room and waited. The noise—more like a terrified moan—sharpened and her heart skipped a beat. She dropped the pillow and rushed into the hall. The moans intensified. She quietly unlatched his door, cracked it just enough so she could enter, and then closed it behind her.
Faint outside light streaked through the dark room. Jarrett jerked under the blankets, trapped within a nightmare. She inched closer to the bed. The heavy blankets slipped as he jerked out his arm in a swiping, defensive motion. Her brow rose at the sight of his bare chest. Light gleamed off taut muscles and highlighted his scars. Sweat covered his skin.
His violent jerks calmed. He shivered and tossed his head back and forth. She sat on the mattress and laid her hand on his chest, above his heart. The organ pounded mercilessly. She trailed her hand to his shoulder to wake him.
A strong hand grabbed her wrist and jerked her across the bed. Flat on her back with a knife at her throat, she peered up at Jarrett as he towered over her and pinned her with his body. Savagery darkened his brown eyes nearly black. His entire face appeared to be hardened like marble, his body strong like steel. She couldn’t breathe or speak with the cold metal blade pressed against her windpipe.