Page 27 of His Saving Grace

But it was the bed that held her attention. King-size, it dominated the room, with its matching mahogany headboard and its soft-looking hunter green duvet. It wasn’t uninviting, which was why she needed to get the hell out of here. Pronto.

The other thing she noticed was that the room was impeccable. There were no clothes strewn on the floor or magazines piled on the nightstand. Everything was neat and tidy. Nothing out of place, except for the green, Army-issued duffle bag on the floor at the end of the bed. It was still full, which was strange. He’d been here for almost a week and hadn’t unpacked.

A belt jingled, and she whipped her head around. Somehow, in the handful of seconds they’d been here, he managed to get naked. Well, partially naked.

He no longer wore his t-shirt or his shoes and socks. They’d all been dropped in a heap on the floor next to the bed. And oh boy, was he beautiful. Muscular and fit, with a set of washboard abs you could do laundry on. He had a patriotic crest and the words US Army tattooed on his right pec. Her fingers twitched with the urge to touch it. The dark hair on his chest ran into a strip down across his belly button and disappeared below the waist of his pants.

Pants he was currently in the process of removing.

Before she could utter a single protest, he had them undone. A quick push and they were pooled around his ankles. He stepped out of them, kicking them toward his bag.

Unfortunately—no, no, she reminded herself, thankfully. Thankfully, he was wearing underwear. A black pair of tight boxer briefs that hugged his muscular thighs. His long legs were dusted with dark hair, except for the part that was scarred. The discolored, puckered skin ran halfway down the outside of his right thigh. It also extended a couple of inches above his waistband and seemed to wrap around to his lower back.

“Okay, then.” She pulled the words out so that they each had five syllables. She’d kind of been staring. And if by kind of, she meant practically drooling, then yeah, she’d kind of been staring. “I’m gonna go now.” She indicated the hallway behind her with her thumbs.

“Please don’t. I don’t want to be alone.”

It was his tone that got her. The whispered words were rough, with a note of sadness and a hint of desperation. The idea that such a strong, intense man would be so vulnerable was rather humbling.

Against her better judgment—because apparently, where this man was concerned, her common sense jumped right out the window of a very tall building and splattered on the pavement below—she nodded.

What are you doing? This is not keeping your distance.

She elbowed the annoying little voice aside. He was hurting. And this was only until he fell asleep. Then she could head back to the guesthouse and put this weird night behind her.

Satisfaction radiated from him, and he turned and threw back the covers on the bed. He climbed in, and she got a great view of his ass, and then immediately chastised herself. This was supposed to be about comfort and helping a friend through a rough time. Not about how great his ass looked.

He settled on the mattress and let out a pleased-sounding sigh. She stayed near the door, arms crossed, waiting for him to flip off the light and fall asleep. He stared at her, a hint of a smile on his handsome face.

“Come here.” He flipped up the covers in a blatant invitation.

She shook her head, but her hand pushed the door closed behind her, anyway. And then she was moving forward. Stupid feet with a stupid mind of their own.

She kicked off her shoes and sat on the very edge of the bed, keeping her back ramrod stiff. How on Earth had she gotten into this mess?

Mason’s warm hand gently caressed her lower back. She jumped.

“Please.”

The quiet word was her undoing. She slid under the covers, still fully clothed. She refused to strip down to her skivvies. Mostly because she didn’t trust herself. As of reading her thoughts, Mason chuckled but smartly kept his mouth shut.

He pressed against her back, his heat soaking straight into her bones. He rolled forward, reaching for the lamp. With a click, they were immersed in darkness, but Mason didn’t pull away. She didn’t know whether to be angry or grateful. He snaked his arm around her waist, holding her close, as if he was afraid she’d try to escape.

She remained rigid, afraid to breathe for fear of encouraging him. Or maybe she was scared of her own lack of inhibitions. At this point, she couldn’t tell.

“Thank you.” His voice was low, his warm breath ghosting against her ear. A shiver slid through her. He must have thought she was cold, because he pulled her closer. Like that was even possible. “You smell so good.” He buried his face in her hair.

“Mason.” She aimed for scolding. It came out needy. Stupid voice.

“I’m sorry I was such an asshole when we first met.” Another whispered declaration.

“It’s okay.” She kept her voice just as low, just as quiet, unwilling to break the spell. “I stared like an idiot.”

He began to trace little circles on her stomach, his touch burning through the fabric of her shirt. Goosebumps spiraled out from the contact, making her shiver. She needed to stop this before she decided she didn’t want to. She placed her hand over his, stilling his fingers.

“Hmmm.” A rumble from deep in his chest. Whether he meant to protest her stopping him or not, she’d never know. Within seconds, he relaxed against her, his breathing evening out. He’d fallen asleep. His grip didn’t loosen. He still held onto her, cocooning her against him.

You should go now. He’s asleep.

Her body refused to cooperate.

Okay then, just another minute or so. Just until you know he’s out. You don’t want to wake him up and start this whole thing over again.

The minutes ticked by, the debate raging in her brain. The house was quiet, peaceful, only the hum of the air-conditioner breaking the silence.

Every time she blinked, her eyelids stayed closed just a bit longer. She was going to fall asleep if she didn’t make a move soon. It was just that, for the first time in a long time, with Mason’s arms wrapped around her, she felt safe.

In this moment, in the dark, in his arms, she could pretend she was. She liked the idea, even if it wasn’t true.