The need to claim her was so fucking intense, I fought from pushing her back on the couch and sinking inside her. Knowing what she’d been through, knowing what her body looked like under that blanket, I hated myself for even thinking it. In the same damn breath, I was fucking certain she needed it. We both did. We needed to remember what we felt like together.
This bullshit wall she was putting up was going to come down. One way or another, I’d find a way around it. That’s what I fucking did. I found solutions. I fixed problems, and I was going to fucking fix this. Strategically.
She wouldn’t look at me? Fine. Then I’d fucking go to her.
I kicked the coffee table back and got on my knees. Before she could draw in a shocked breath, her face was in my hands.
I showed no mercy. “You know what I’m not going to do?” I didn’t wait for an answer. “I’m not going to walk. You want space tonight? Fine. Take it. But I’ll still be here tomorrow and the goddamn days after that.” If she wanted to kick me out tonight, I’d sleep in the fucking hall, but I wasn’t leaving her alone. “You want a different place to stay? I’ll find you a different place. But I’m not going to let you hide from me.” I touched my lips to her forehead because I couldn’t not touch her, then I stood and picked her up. “Come on.”
Alarm spread across her face. “What are you doing?”
“Putting you in a hot bath.” She fucking smelled like him. I wasn’t having it another goddamn second.
“I don’t want a bath.”
Petulant and almost full of attitude, her tone washed over me like a fucking drug and relief spread through my veins. “It’ll make you feel better.”
Expecting her to argue or tell me I didn’t know what would make her feel better, I was ready with half a dozen comebacks. But she didn’t say a word as I walked her into the master bathroom.
I set her on her feet and turned the water on full blast in the jetted tub. She didn’t walk out, but she wouldn’t look at me.
Fuck this.
I did what I’d wanted to do since I’d laid eyes on her again. I put my arms around her and I fucking held her. Her body stiffened, but as the bathroom filled with steam, she relaxed in my embrace.
I didn’t say anything. I didn’t have to. I knew she took comfort in my arms as much as I took comfort in holding her. If I had to find my way back to her inch by inch, then that’s what I’d fucking do.
I watched the water level rise and waited until the last second before reluctantly letting go of her to shut the water off. “In you go.” I grasped a corner of the blanket.
She jerked away. “No.”
This time, I didn’t make a crucial mistake. I didn’t hesitate. I took her chin and I bent my knees to get closer to her eye level because I knew exactly what this was about. “I saw your body yesterday and I’ve seen your body today.” I held her gaze like I should’ve done earlier. “Nothing’s changed. You were beautiful then and you’re beautiful now.” I started to push the blanket off her shoulders.
“Don’t do this,” she pleaded.
My heart rate kicked up. “The only thing I’m going to do is watch my woman get in the bath.” I slowly dragged the blanket off her.
She closed her eyes and I stole a glance at her body.
Jesus. Fucking. Christ.
Every last molecule in my body went into rage mode. Her wrists and ankles were red with restraint marks, her nipples were swollen, and darkening welts crisscrossed her inner thighs.
Using every goddamn tactic I’d ever learned in the military, I fought to keep my voice even. “I’m lifting you up. You tell me if it’s too hot.”
She didn’t open her eyes or move a muscle.
Cradling her back, I put my arm behind her thighs, and as gently as possible, I lifted her. “Feet first, sweetheart.” I lowered her into the water.
She inhaled sharply.
Fuck. “Too hot?”
She frantically shook her head.
Inch by inch, without letting her go, I lowered her into the tub. The rigid stiffness in her posture eased and her head fell back on my arm.
My fucking heart started to beat again. “Lie back, love, that’s it.”
“Don’t call me that,” she whispered.
I kissed her temple as the hot water soaked my shirt. Seeing her body, I couldn’t even smile at her attempt to sway me from calling her what I wanted to fucking call her.
She glanced at me then quickly looked away. “You’re getting wet.”
I didn’t give a fuck. “I want you comfortable.” And I wanted any damn thing she was willing to give me right now. A wet T-shirt was a small fucking price to pay.
“You were right.” She exhaled. “The hot water feels good.”
“Sometimes I know what I’m talking about.” I would’ve given anything to be in that tub with her. Hell, I would’ve given anything to kiss her.
“And other times?”
“I fucking fake it.”
She didn’t even crack a smile. “How is your side?”
The question, her concern, it gutted me. “I’m fine.” My voice rough, I stroked her cheek.
She turned away from my touch. “I need to wash my hair.”
“Give me a sec.” I gently extracted my arm from behind her head and got up to grab the shampoo out of the shower. When I turned, she was staring at her wrists.
“I didn’t know he had restraints,” she quietly admitted. “The kind with buckles.”
I should’ve been fucking thankful he hadn’t used rope, but all I wanted to do was kill him all over again with slow, torturous brutality.
Tempering my rage, I knelt next to the tub. “You don’t have to worry about that ever again.” Or fucking think about it. I cupped the back of her head. “Lean back.”
“I can wash my own hair.”
“I could’ve put in my own staples.” I gently leaned her head back to wet her hair. “But sometimes we let other people do things for us.”
“You can do things I can’t do.”
I wet her hair. “Ditto.” She looked a thousand times more fragile with her hair slicked back.
“I know what you’re trying to do, but the reality isn’t equitable.”
I squeezed shampoo into my hand. “It’s not about being equitable. Reality is a balance of power. For every action, there’s a reaction. I wouldn’t have lasted five minutes with that asshole, let alone five years, but you kept that balance.”
“There was never any balance. I was eighteen and I wanted to get away from my mother. He offered me money I was too lazy to come by honestly.”
“He offered, you accepted. Action, reaction.” I didn’t see giving up five years as lazy.
“Not everything is black and white.”
No, but the important things were. “We are.” I worked my hands through her hair.
She looked away. “This was never going to work.”
“It was always going to work.” I washed away the scent of that asshole from her.
“I’m not a reaction to your action.”
The corner of my mouth tipped up at her using my analogy on me. “No, sweetheart, you’re not. You walked into my life and when I saw you, I reacted.” I tipped her head back. It was always about me reacting to her, never the other way around. My reaction to her was the trigger. “Close your eyes.”
Without hesitation, her eyes shut.
Her quiet submission was the bullet. She and I, we were so fucking black and white, nothing in my life made more sense. Not even when I was an eighteen-year-old enlisting with a wedding band on my finger. I rinsed her hair then sat her up.
She changed the subject. “How do clients find you?”
Did. Past tense. “Referrals.” Mostly. The US government on occasion.
“Are they going to keep finding you?”
“No.” I cupped handfuls of water and rinsed her shoulders.
“What about Viktor’s guards?”
“Of the ones that are still alive? Doubtful. Were any of them legal?” The fuckers had all spoken Russian.
“Probably not.”
“They’ll be deported. Without Viktor’s money, it’ll be hard for them to find their way back to the States.”
She pulled her knees to her chest. “And if they do?”
I didn’t hesitate. “I’ll handle it.”
“Like you handled Peter?”
“If I have to.”
She dropped her chin to her knees. “I’m tired.”
“Hang on, I’ll get you a towel.” I grabbed one off the rack and held it out. “You need help getting up?”
“I’m not an invalid.” With the grace of her usual movements, she got up, but I saw the slight twist in her face when she straightened her legs and stood to her full height.
My eyes trained on hers, I wrapped the towel around her. “Clothes, then food.”
“I’m not hungry.”
She was so fucking beautiful and fragile, it was almost impossible not to take her in my arms. “You’re still going to eat.”
“You’re not my boss.”
“No, I’m not.” I grabbed another towel for her hair. “I’m the man who cares about you.” I ran the towel over her wet locks and draped it over her shoulders. “There’s probably a comb in one of the drawers.” I didn’t spend much time here. “I’ll grab you something to put on.”
She stood silent as I walked out of the bathroom.
When I returned, she still hadn’t moved. I held out a T-shirt from the few things I kept in the penthouse, and the bag of clothes from the store. “You should be able to find something comfortable.”
Her hand reached out from under the towel and she took them. “You bought me clothes from Target.”
No intonation in her voice, I studied her face. “Interim. Until you get new clothes.”
“Why didn’t you just bring my suitcase from the house?”
“I didn’t take the time to drive there and back.” And the real reason. “Nor did I want you wearing anything of his.”
She held the clothes tighter to her chest, but she didn’t comment.
“You can shop when you feel up to it. I keep an extra car here. The keys are in a kitchen drawer. You have money in your account.”
Staring at her feet, she nodded, but otherwise she didn’t move.
“You need help?”
“Do you know what happened to my mother?”
“She went to the hospital.” I assumed. “She’ll be fine.” But she’d never be a decent fucking human being.
She nodded again.
“I’ll be in the living room. Get dressed, then come have something to eat.”
It killed me to leave her standing there, but I didn’t want to undo any progress I’d made, so I grabbed a dry T-shirt for myself then walked to the kitchen. I was getting water and some silverware when she quietly walked to the couch in only my T-shirt and sat. She looked so damn defeated, it simultaneously made me want to kill and protect.
I handed her the silverware and a bottle of water. “Here.”
She took it. “Thanks.”
I pulled the coffee table back by the couch and opened the take-out containers. “I have no idea what this is.” The first container had beans, rice and meat. “Looks like Cuban.” The second container was salad.
“You didn’t get this?”
“No, one of Luna’s men did.” I set the first container on her lap.
“The one you hit?”
I momentarily froze. Then my training kicked in. I cataloged. There was only one way she would know about that. “Fedorov told you.” I sat down next to her.
She set her water down then moved the fork around the food. “He mentioned it.”
“What else did he mention?”
“That you were a killer and you would hit me like you hit your own men.”
My jaw ticked. “Interesting tactic.”
“He is… was, manipulative.”
I didn’t address that. “Eat.”
“I’m not hungry.”
“You’re too thin.” I could tell she used to have curves.
“You liked me fine last night.”
“You were too thin last night as well.” I put my feet up on the coffee table and my arm on the back of the couch behind her.
“I don’t eat when I’m stressed.” She hesitantly put a bite of rice to her mouth and eyed me. “If you are going to watch me eat, you can leave.”
I refrained from smiling. I reached over and snagged a hunk of meat then ate it.
“That’s disgusting.” Her tone was scolding, but she took another bite.
“The meat or using my fingers?”
“Both.”
“You don’t eat meat?”
“Not if I can help it.”
“You ate eggs,” I pointed out.
“That wasn’t meat.”
“Still comes from an animal.”
“I didn’t say I was vegan.”
“Vegetarian?”
She sighed and put her fork down. “I know what you’re doing.”
I picked the fork up. “What’s that?” I took another bite of the pork.
“Distracting me, getting me to talk, to eat….” She looked up at me. “Not tell you to leave.”
I set the fork down and winked. “You don’t want to tell me to leave, sweetheart.”
She picked it up and took another bite.
I gave her a smile. “Nice diversion tactic.”
Heat hit her cheeks and she looked down at the food. “You’re leaving after I eat.”
“No can do. You can lock yourself in a bedroom if you need to, but I’m at least staying on the couch.” Fuck the hallway outside.
“You can’t leave Hunter alone all night.”
Wouldn’t be the first time. “He’s been fed. He can get out if he needs to.”
“That’s cruel.”
“Then come with me to get him.” She could use the distraction.
“I’m not dressed.”
“You have clothes here you can wear.” I took the fork from her hand, speared a chunk of the meat, ate it, then forked some rice and held it up.
She stared at me.
“Eat.”
“I can feed myself.”
“You weren’t doing it fast enough.” I had an idea.
She took the bite.
I refrained from smiling at the win. “You need protein.” I forked up some of the beans. “Do you eat dairy?”
“Yes.” She ate the next bite.
I liked feeding her. “Fish?”
“Yes.”
I could work with that. “What’s your favorite food?”
“Coffee.” She took the fork back.
“Not a food group.”
“It is when you put enough cream in it. What’s your favorite food?”
I thought about it. I usually ate for energy, and when I was on a job, I ate what I could, when I could. “Steak.”
“Typical man.”
“You expected something different?” I teased.
She dropped her attention to the take-out container and pushed the fork through the rice. “I expect nothing.”
I sobered. “You should.” A man who didn’t beat her, for one.
“Life must be very easy for you. You have training, discipline, wealth.”
“I didn’t always.” I was raised by a single mom, just like her.
“But now you do.”
“Highlighting our difference doesn’t change a thing about the here and now. We’re both sitting on the same couch, eating the same food, sharing the same space.”
“Your couch, your food, your space,” she corrected.
“And you’re in it. Know why?”
“Because you’re the fixer.”
“Because I want you here.” I grasped her chin. “I want to be where you are.”
“For how long? Until my bruises fade? Until the newness wears off?”
I wasn’t going to lie to her. “There are no certainties in life.”
“Exactly.”
It was too soon, but I didn’t fucking care. I laid it out. “But there is commitment.”
Her body stiffened and she sucked in a breath as she tried to hide her reaction. She put the food on the coffee table and got up. “I’m going to bed.”
I sat perfectly still on the couch. “Which part scares you? That I said it, that I meant it, or that you want it?” I wasn’t afraid of commitment, and I knew she wasn’t a woman who did casual.
“Go get your dog.” She walked into the master bedroom and shut the door.