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His release had nearly destroyed him. He wouldn’t be surprised to realize he had sprained muscles with that one, because every muscle in his body had tightened to the breaking point.
He wanted to lie here just a little longer. He’d never done this, he realized—curled a woman into his arms and just lay with her. He had never held a woman. He had been held by them, by monsters who didn’t care what they were doing to him, but he had never held.
He held now, and realized he was holding her as though he were terrified someone would try to take her from him.
The information he had found earlier drew a frown at his brow. It terrified him, the thought that some idiot was out there trying to kill her. Because only an idiot would have bungled it this long. And there was the terror part. He was thanking God it was an idiot. But even idiots got lucky eventually.
He pulled the throw over them as he let the information sift through his mind, let himself drift in the curious contentment he found here. With her.
Maybe it was just the bed, he thought. Because right here, on this couch, a little wider than most, it just felt right.
One thing was for sure, he was going to have to do something about Richard Roberts. There was a senator on the punitive committee of the club. Roberts was a threat to Jaci, and Jaci belonged to him. He could petition Ian to have the committee brought together to take action against the Robertses. That would be easier than killing the bastard.
Not that Cam cared if he did kill him, but he knew Jaci. She would just get pissed off over the blood, and she might not let him hold her like this again.
And he did like holding her just like this.
He smiled, curious at the feelings that swept over him, that made him question the long, lonely nights he had allowed her to sleep on the end of the sectional, rather than right here in his arms. Because this was where she belonged.
He kissed her brow, the top of her head, and closed his eyes. He’d try it, just for a little while. Sort through his emotions and his little phobia while he drifted in this lazy contentment.
One thing was damned certain: He wasn’t letting her go. And he wasn’t going to let her cry over him ever again. He’d make something up if he had to. Hell, he could come up with something that would explain this darkness, while holding the truth back. He just had to think about it, that was all. Then Jaci and Chase would be reasonably satisfied and he could keep the shameful truth to himself. As far as he was concerned, all that mattered was comforting her. He couldn’t have her crying for him, not ever again. Hell, he’d survived. He had a few inconsequential issues, but he hadn’t turned out too damned bad. He’d turned out good enough for Jaci to love, and that was all that mattered to him.
And she did love him.
He smiled at the thought of that, tucked her closer, and slipped deeper into the warm darkness surrounding him.
“I love you,” he murmured against her hair.
Damn, though, the sight of Chase touching her, the pleasure burning inside her. Sanity had flown the hell out the window and there had been nothing left but hunger. A hunger that went deeper, further than mere lust.
Tomorrow night, he told himself, he would have roses and candlelight, candles everywhere. He’d get rid of Chase if he had to knock him out and lock him in the trunk of his car, and he’d tell her then. While he stared in her eyes, while he touched her lips. He’d tell her. He loved her.
Chase stared at the entwined pair and breathed out silently from where he stood just below the entrance to his apartment. He could see them, curled together like two halves to a puzzle, and Cam was drifting off to sleep.
For the first time Chase could remember, there was contentment on his brother’s face. For so long, even in sleep, Cam scowled or frowned. He didn’t rest easy most nights, and he had never, ever, slept with a woman alone that Chase knew of.
He had known Jaci would affect Cam, had known having her here would break down some of the defenses Chase had erected and strengthened over the years.
His lips quirked as he now felt an echo of the twin bond. The peace that flowed along that bond brought his heart ease. There was no other word for it. He had worried about Cam for so damned long. Seeing him like this, seeing him wrapped around Jaci, it eased him.
Relief began to unfold inside him. Each night he had checked on them, each time he had seen them sleeping on opposite ends of that fucking couch, he’d wanted to break something. Foremost, Davinda Morris’s neck, because he knew she was involved in whatever had nearly broken Cam. It was too damned bad the fucking bitch was dead.
Shaking his head, he turned and moved back up the stairs and into his office. He still had information to dig up on the Robertses and, unlike his brother, his lust was nowhere near exhausted for the night. But then, his never was. Sometimes he wondered if it ever would be.
He pulled a beer from the fridge and went back to work, if not content, at least breathing easier. Cam might not be sleeping in a bed, but he was sleeping with Jaci. It was a major step, and Chase knew it. Now he just had to figure out the rest of that little mystery.
First things first.
“Come on, now,” he whispered, as he began searching through the files he had dug up. “Show me what you’ve been up to. Just a little bit more here . . . ”
25
It was almost over. Jaci could feel the anticipation, the sense of excitement, and the edge of satisfaction churning inside her the next day. The clock seemed to move at a snail’s pace, ticking off the seconds before the meeting with the Robertses.
Moriah had called at least a half dozen times. Though the other girl wasn’t half-hysterical anymore, she was still off balance and frightened.
Jaci was feeling a lot of emotions herself, but there was no fear. Maybe that was why the odd feeling of disquiet nudged at her brain. Should she know fear?
