Tia

My toes and fingers are frozen. My lips went numb a long time ago, and every breath feels like I’m sucking in icicles - and that’s with Giles carrying me for the last mile or so.

I hate that he’s carrying me at all, but I was near collapse and he knew it. Nestled against him now, I offer a silent prayer of gratitude. If he hadn’t come when he had...

My imagination can’t even comprehend the things those men would have done to me.

Despite my attempt to hold it back, a small sob rattles in my chest. Giles pulls me tighter against his chest.

“We’re almost there. I see the roofline.” He doesn’t even seem breathless as he says it, just keeps trekking through the deep snow, like a man with a single pursuit - to keep me safe.

When he sets me down on the ground, the sunrise is just beginning to peek out from the mountain tops. Giles grabs my hand and wordlessly, we turn, facing the sun.

The mountains are blanketed in thick white snow, and we stand in awe at the blindingly bright mountain before us.

It puts me in my place, standing here. I’m so small in comparison to the world at large. A speck, a dot. Nothing.

Who am I to take a life?

A chill goes down my spine as the man's eyes spear my memory.

“The sky is never so pink and purple,” Giles says softly, pulling me closer to his side.

I look up past the mountain at the pastel-painted skyline. The beauty takes my breath away, and tears fight to the surface. I don’t deserve such a sight. I ran from the men I vowed to love; put them in harm's way by being here at all. I lied. And then I killed a man.

And yet, I’m safe. I have shelter. And a view so majestic it makes my chest ache.

“I think it’s a gift for you,” Giles says, squeezing my hand.

“What is?”

“The sunrise.” He gives me a small smile, brushing the hair away from my cheek.

I shake my head. Blood is dried on my hands and the sound of the gun rings hollow in my mind. Guilt presses against my chest.

“The world doesn’t revolve around me, even if I act like it does.”

Now it’s Giles’ turn to shake his head. “That’s not how it works.”

My face falls ever so slightly. “How does it work, then?”

He leans in, takes my face in his hand, and kisses my forehead. “When you’re given a gift, you’re just supposed to say thank you.”

“Thank you,” I whisper.

He nods slightly and gives a small smile, then releases me and starts towards the cabin. Leaning his body weight on the front door, he pushes it in with his sheer strength.

Before I follow him inside, I look back up at the sky. The words fall short.

“Thank you,” I say again, to no one in particular. To the universe, or whatever god is listening. To fate for giving me this moment and this man, even though I clearly don’t deserve either.

“Come on,” Giles says, taking my hand and leading me inside. “Let’s warm you up.”

* * *

I sleep for hours and when I wake, it’s growing dark again and the only light in the room is from the blazing fire.

“Hi,” I say to Giles who crouches next to the stone fireplace. I sit up on the couch and pull the heavy quilt tighter around my shoulders. “Did you sleep?”

He nods as he stands. “I just woke up and stoked the fire. We must have slept for eight hours straight.”  

I rub my eyes, then comb my fingers through my tangled hair, trying to remember this morning when we came inside. It’s all foggy. I remember Giles finding gallons of water in a pantry, using a rag to wash the blood from my hands. I remember him silently slipping off my clothes and wrapping me in fleece pajamas, buttoning the top up while I watched silently. My fingers are too frozen to dress myself.

“Where did you sleep?” I ask.

“On the floor,” he says, pointing to the blankets and bearskin rug at my feet.

“You didn’t want the bed?” There was a cot on the other side of the room he could have slept on.

“I needed to be by your side.”

I nod, pulling my sleeves over my fingertips, then pressing them against my mouth. The memories flood back. Of course, he didn’t leave me alone.

“I’m so sorry,” I start, guilt causing new tears to form in my eyes. I hate how emotional I am. I want to be strong. I need to be strong.

Giles moves, crouching beside the couch in front of me. “Let’s eat, okay? Maybe some food will help your nerves.”

I nod, and he takes my hand, leading me to the kitchenette. “Is there even any food here?”

“We’ll find out.” He begins opening cupboards and grabbing cans. The next thing I know he’s lit a gas burner, peeled back lids, and has soup is warming up on the stove. I’m impressed at how well he manages to get a meal together for us, considering I’d still be trying to get the can opener to work.

“How did you know about this place?” I ask, looking around the two-bedroom log cabin.

“It’s Fallon’s.”

“Really?” I look around with a bit more eye for detail.

“Well, his family’s. We used to come up here a lot.” Giles reaches for two bowls and grabs spoons from a drawer. It is obvious he knows where everything belongs. “You can’t tell from here, but there’s a lake a few yards south, and we’d fish here all summer. In the fall, we’d come out to hunt.”

“I knew you and Fallon were close but sounds like you were more like family.”

Giles nods, a frown sketches across his face. “Something like that. But,” he looks over and gives me a smile, “Now we really are. We’re both married to you.”

“Is that strange?”

He lets out a small breath, carrying the bowls of soup to the kitchen table. “I’m just grateful for having anything at all.”

I twist my lips, taking a place at the table. Across from me, Giles looks so mature, so experienced. It makes me feel like I’ve been a petulant child, running without explaining. Killing a man without thinking of the implications.

I reach for my spoon, ready to eat, but notice Giles has paused, hands clasped and pressed against his forehead, eyes closed.

When he opens them again, and slowly reaches for his spoon, I say with a small smile, “I didn’t know you were the praying type.”

Giles shakes his head, causing dark red hair to fall over his forehead. “I’m not. It’s just... memories.” He rakes his fingers back through his hair, then rubs the back of his neck, green eyes haunted. “They always seem to hit me at the strangest times.”

“You wanna talk about them?”

“No.” His jaw twitches and he stares down at his soup. “Let’s eat.”

He picks up his spoon and I follow suit, wanting to ask more, but knowing he isn’t ready to open up to me.

And I don’t blame him. I haven’t exactly earned his trust.

We finish our meal in silence.

I know he’s upset with me. He has every right to be. But I’m still shaking from everything that happened, and with the uncertainty of what we need to do next.

“I’ll clean the dishes,” I say, taking his bowl, then placing it in the sink.

I hear his chair push back on the wood floor. “I’m going to do another check of the perimeter.”

“Do you think anyone will find us out here?” My back is to him, and I try to hide the fear that tightens my throat but even I can hear it in my words.

“There was a fresh fall of snow this morning, so our tracks should be covered.”

It’s not really an answer.

I feel, rather than hear him approach. He doesn’t touch me, but the heat of his body warms my back.

He’s never pushed me for physical affection. Never asked to share a night in my bed, let alone offer me a hug. The only kiss we shared was the one I gave him when I had too much whiskey with Salinger and Huxley. But I need him now. Need his strength. His body. Need him to take away the fear and guilt that crushes down on me.

Maybe it’s selfish. But maybe he needs me too.

I turn around, my back against the counter and glance up at him. Deep green eyes, that are always so controlled, so decisive, are filled now with a restless passion that makes me swallow hard.

Placing my palms on his stomach, I curl my fingers into the fabric of his shirt and pull my bottom lip between my teeth. “You never touch me.”

His arms remain by his side and his jaw clenches. “I needed time.”

“Time?” I snake my hands under his shirt, feeling the heat of his skin, and he sucks in a breath.

“I wanted you to...” He looks away, dark auburn brows drawn like he’s in pain.

I place a hand on his cheek, his rough beard tickling my palm. “Tell me.”

“It may seem silly to you. But I wanted you to care about me before we made love.”

Made love. Only Giles would use that term. And my heart squeezes at his confession.

“I do care about you.”

“Then why run?” His lips thin, and his eyes search mine wanting an answer he can believe.

“Because...” Am I ready to confess who I am? Put him in more danger.  “I was trying to protect you. All of you.”

His frown deepens. “From what?”

“My past.”

His hands cup my face and he leans down, holding my gaze for a long moment. “The six of us took an oath to protect you. If you’d trusted us-”

“I do trust you.”

He shakes his head. “No, Tia. If you trusted us, you would have come to us with whatever truth you’re still holding back. And we would have kept you safe, no matter the cost.”

“But that’s exactly what I was worried about. I couldn’t live if something happened to you, because of me.”

A tear slips down my cheek and he brushes it away with his thumb. “And how do you think we’d feel if anything happened to you?”

His eyes, deep green pools, are full of emotion, and I know my betrayal has left a deep wound on his heart. I hate that I caused that.

“Make love to me,” I say the words quickly, desperately, not knowing what he’ll do. Praying he doesn’t reject me. Because I wasn’t lying, I do care about him. And right now, I need this. Need him.

“Tia...” He drops his forehead to mine, his breathing rough, and I can feel his heart beating wildly beneath my palm.

“Please,” I whisper, my hand trailing down his abs. “I need you.”

He groans. A deep guttural sound at the back of his throat. Then his mouth is on mine. His lips exploring mine with a restraint that leaves me begging for more.

He pulls back, green fire blazing in his eyes. “You’re sure?”

I wrap my arms around his neck and pull his mouth back to mine, kissing him fiercely with abandon until his body relaxes and he meets my kiss with equal passion.

His hands are on me, large and calloused, they roam across my body, and I can feel the heavy length of his erection pressing against my belly.

“Not here,” he moans against my lips, then scoops me up against his chest and carries me to the living room, where the fire is still smoldering. A large bear fur rug is beside the couch and he lays me down on it and slowly begins to undress me.

“I knew I’d find you alive,” he tells me, his eyes on my bare skin.

“Why?” My voice is so small I hardly recognize it as my own.

“In your eyes, I see a fighter. Your heart’s not easily bruised, even if your skin says otherwise.”

He runs his thumbs over the tender flesh on my upper arms, where the men pushed me hard into the snow. It feels so intimate, and it’s as if his touch wipes away some of the pain I feel over being violated yesterday.

“How do you figure all that? We’ve hardly spoken, Giles.” I close my eyes as his hands cup my breasts, my nipples covered by my bra, but they are hard beneath his touch.

“You killed a man for me, Tia.”

I swallow, shame coursing through my veins. “You don’t think I’m a monster?”

He groans and shakes his head softly. “No Tia, I think I got damn lucky when my name was drawn in the Lottery.”

His eyes find mine now, and it’s startling when our gazes meet. He’s a man who does what he wants when he wants.

And right now, he wants me.

Each movement is an act of worship. He takes his time, kissing every area of skin as it’s exposed. The fire crackles beside us, warming me and casting an otherworldly glow around us.

He reaches behind his head and tugs off his shirt. The man is all muscle, toned and defined, and they ripple with every movement. Of all the men, he’s the tallest, and his strength even shadows Fallon’s.

His skin is fair, his chest covered in soft freckles, and a small line of dark auburn hair trails down his lower abs. I follow that line with my finger, then pull his belt loose from the clasp.

“Tia,” he moans.

With only my bra and panties on, he crouches over me, one thick thigh between my legs, hands beside my head, and growls, “You’re so beautiful.”

My chest squeezes.

“So are you,” I say, placing a hand on his beard.

He chuckles. “That’s not something most men want to hear.”

I smile up at him. “But you are.” My palm resting on his chest, I open up, “I saw you the night of the lottery. At the back of the room. And your eyes...”

He gives me a crooked smile and tilts his head waiting for me to continue.

“There was a kindness in them that I’d never seen before. Not from a...”

“A man.”

I nod.

Compassion fills his expression. “I’ll never hurt you.”

“I know.”

“And I’ll protect you with my last breath.”

I close my eyes. “I know.”

It’s also my worst fear.

I unbutton the top button of his pants, then slide my hand under the material bringing it down over his hips so that his cock springs free. A drop of precum moistens the tip, and I lick my lips, wanting to taste him. He brings out a different side of me. He saw me at my worst, and he didn’t push me away.

He pulled me close. I want him to pull me closer still. My body aches to be joined with his, and I look him over - when he says he will protect me with all that he is, I know his body is capable of it.

But as I look at him, he seems almost shy under my gaze. “So beautiful,” I say again.

“I have to confess something to you.”

“What?” I trace the frown line on his forehead.

“I’ve never...” He chews on his bottom lip, the muscles in his shoulders bunching and coiling. “Never done this before.”

“Really?” My heart opens at his confession, it makes me want to wrap my arms around him and show him how thankful I am to be his wife.

I twist my legs around his and use my strength to flip him on his back.

He grunts then laughs. “What are you doing?”

A smile breaks out across my face, his laughter lightened the mood. Reminded me that beyond guns and kidnappers, the high stakes outside this cabin - right here, before the fire, we are husband and wife. And we can enjoy the life we are lucky enough to have. For as long as we have it.

“For once,” I tell him. “Let me take care of you.” I kiss his chest, his abs, gripping the base of his cock in my hand, then swirling my tongue around the engorged head.

His throat bobs as he watches me, and I feel his cock grow as I lick it. It feels so decadent to be here alone with him. And I know the moment is fleeting; soon enough we’ll have to make a plan for getting out of here. Somehow, we’ll have to let the other husbands know we are okay. But right now, we are here together.

In the middle of nowhere. Alone.

I will give Giles all that I can. After all, he saved my life.

And God, how I want to devour his body. His cock is so thick in my hand and I smile up at him before taking the full length of his cock in my mouth. He groans as I do, and my body tingles with excitement as I enjoy his thickness, already imagining him between my legs.

“My God, Tia.” His fingers tangle in my hair and his body tenses beneath me, as I suck, stroke, and lick.

I watch his reaction, seeing what he likes, what makes his muscles clench in pleasure.

When I glance up at him, I see his emotions are on full display. He is utterly enraptured with me, with the moment.

I don’t deserve this man.