Mia
James cupped my face with his large hand. I wasn’t sure whether it was to shut me up or comfort me. I preferred to think it was the latter. At least I hoped it was.
Warmth radiated from his body to mine, and I did indeed feel comforted, if only a little.
“We’re looking for him,” he said.
He pulled me into his arms, and I rested my face against his thick, muscular chest. I felt him burying his nose against my hair.
I took in a slow, deep breath, inhaling oxygen into my lungs to calm myself, to think logically. James’ warm, masculine scent tantalized my senses, which only made me want to bury myself deeper into him. He made me want to entomb myself within him and never let go.
“Go back to bed,” he instructed.
Go back to bed? Like I’d be able to relax, knowing my brother was missing. God only knew what was happening to him now.
Suddenly my mind flicked to the Mexican and the Albanian.