Page 48 of Marrying the Silver Fox

That part makes me fucking sick to my stomach. The kind of father he would have been—selfish, obsessive, demanding, seeing this baby as nothing more than a totem that he could show off to get what he wanted. I will never put my child through that. No matter where they might stand as heir to this business, they are my child, first and foremost, and I’m their father, and I will do everything in my power to make certain that they don’t ever forget it.

“Do you want something to eat?” I ask, and Andie shakes her head.

“Not right now,” she replies. “I…I think I just want to get cleaned up first. Get the feel of that place off of me…”

“Let me run you a bath.”

“You don’t have to do that⁠—”

“I know I don’t have to.” I open the door for her and gesture for her to step inside. “I want to.”

She smiles at me slightly—she seems almost surprised that I’m going out of my way like this to take care of her, but I wouldn’t leave her with nothing in her time of need. I feel like I have to be so delicate with her, so careful, even if she has shown herself more capable than most of shouldering everything that has been thrown at her.

I head through to the bathroom that’s attached to my bedroom, not wanting to leave her in her own room tonight. She perches on the edge of the bed as I begin to run the water, and I look back over my shoulder, scanning her form for any sign of harm.

She insisted that Max didn’t hurt her, but I’m not entirely convinced that I believe her. It’s hard to believe that she would have gone along with anything he had insisted upon, though perhaps he didn’t have a chance to enact the worst of it on her by the time I got to him. The foul shit he forced down her throat to render her unconscious can’t have been good for her, though, and I need to get her to the doctor to make certain that she and the baby are both doing as well as they can be.

Once the bath is mostly full, I move to her side again. I touch her leg lightly to alert her to my presence, and she jumps a little, gaze flicking up to me in surprise.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” she blurts out, shaking her head. “I was just…”

“It’s okay,” I reply. “The bath is nearly ready. Come on, let me help you undress.”

She doesn’t protest this time, allowing me to guide her to her feet and through to the bathroom. She’s wearing a shirt and a pair of jeans, the same thing that she slipped out of the house in, and I take my time in easing them off of her. I peel her shirt up over her head, letting it fall to the ground below us, and slip my arms around her so I can unhook her bra, which drops to her feet.

I try not to let my gaze linger for too long on the sight of her naked body before me. As I reach down to undo her pants, I notice that her hands are slightly red, and I wonder if she was beating on the inside of the door trying to get Max’s attention, or to break out. The thought draws my lip into a curl of fury, and I wonder if I did the right thing in letting him go, but then I remind myself that it was her choice.

I push her jeans down and then tug off her panties, and when she’s entirely naked, I scoop her gently into my arms and lay her down in the warm water. Steam rises as ripples dance across the bath, and she lets out a sigh, as though this is what she’s been waiting for all along.

“That feels good,” she murmurs.

I reach for the soap at the edge of the bath, pour a little into my hand, work up a lather, and begin to slowly work it across her body. I start at her shoulders, which are tense with coiled muscle, and then move down, across her breasts, over her belly to her thighs, and eventually reaching her feet, which I massage for a moment, glancing up to make sure she enjoys the feel of my touch on her body like this. Her eyes are half-lidded and she looks exhausted, but there’s a slight smile on her face, as though she doesn’t want this moment to be over yet.

“Are you okay?” I ask her. It feels like far too small a question to capture the enormity of everything she has been through, but I have to start somewhere, don’t I?

“I…I think so,” she confesses, lowering her gaze slightly. “I just…I just want to forget, that’s all. Forget that any of it happened.”

My jaw tightens slightly. I hate that I can’t undo it all, unspool all the harm that he has left her with. I might not be able to take it all from her, but at least I can lift some of the weight of it from her, at least for now.

I reach for the shampoo, guiding her hair back into the water and dampening it before I work it into a slight lather against her scalp, as though I can wash away the thoughts from her head if I just try hard enough.

Her body beneath the water, God, it looks tempting in ways that I didn’t know someone could look tempting. Something stirs deep down inside of me, and I try to ignore it, but I can’t. I long for her. Need her. Need to prove to myself that she’s just as much mine as she has ever been.

“Let me help you forget,” I murmur, as I slip my hand beneath the water, running it down the curve of her lower belly until it rests just above her mound.

She leans her head back, eyes drifting shut, and I work my other hand into her hair, letting her feel my nails drag against her scalp. I just want to remind her, in no uncertain terms, that she’s here with me—that the nightmare my brother tried to inflict on her is well and truly over.

I move my hand between her thighs and she parts them as though on instinct, inviting me deeper, deeper. I curve my fingers around and sink them into the warmth of her slit, and she gasps as I wrap my hand around her hair, gripping a little tighter. Her whole body is under my command, back in my arms where she belongs.

Her belly arches slightly out of the water, sending ripples across the surface, as though every inch of her is reacting to me at once. I tug her hair slightly, letting her feel the tension through her whole system, and watch as her throat pulsates as though she’s searching for the words to tell me just what’s going on inside her right now. I curl my fingers up slightly, searching for the ridge inside her, and I can tell I’ve found it when she gasps with pleasure, neck flexing as her muscles tighten again.

Her hand slips down between her thighs, resting on top of mine as though making certain that I know where she wants me. Her hips are stirring against me now, and I watch as the petals of her pussy bloom beneath the water, allowing me more access, allowing me every part of her. I reach my thumb up and drag it across her clit, and her toes curl at the other end of the bathtub, her jaw tightening.

I know I could get lost, watching her like this—seeing the ways her sweet, strong body responds to me. My cock is already stirring at the sight of her, and it takes everything I have not to pull her out of the water and right into my lap, to show her just how much I have missed her, just how much I want her.

But this is about her. Only her. She’s the only thing that matters right now—hell, maybe the only thing that matters at all. And I am not going to forget it.

Her orgasm builds through her. I see it in the spasm of her lower belly, the way her thighs tremble on either side of my hand, the way her breath starts to come harder and faster as she tries to contain herself.