Page 44 of Brooks

All it took was the slightest bit of pressure on the back of my head and I was lowering my lips to his. He wasn't smug about my acquiescence. As a matter of fact, when his eyes locked onto mine they gentled. He looked almost proud. Maybe I was seeing things and he was simply amused he was getting his way—again.

He didn't allow me to kiss him, like he'd asked. As soon as my lips touched his, he halted my progress. Instead of allowing me to take control, he slowly grazed his lips against mine. Feather soft. His stubble a barely-there scrape as he kissed the corner of my mouth.

"You are so beautiful."

He placed another peck square on my mouth.

"Absolutely perfect."

He moved to the other side and another brush of his lips.

"I can't get enough of you."

My heart pounded, my legs trembled, and my hands on his chest shook. He had to stop talking. I pressed in closer and swept my tongue across his lips, preventing him from saying anything else.

"Goddamn, never been kissed like that before, Doll. I could spend all day in this bed with you doing nothing but exploring that sexy as fuck mouth of yours."

The kissing, touching, and sex was less potent than his words. When he said those things to me, he made me want to believe. I wanted to be beautiful. But I wasn't. I was anything but perfect. My flesh was marred and mangled. Brooks was out of my league. Out in the real world, he could have any number of sexy women at his beck and call. I was a convenient lay while he was out on an op.

“One of these days, you'll believe me, that the shit you allow to swirl in your head is utter shit.” I hated that he could read me so easily. "Up you go."

"Um... Maybe..."

"Not a goddamn chance you're trying to roll off me so you can hide. This is day one of me washing that shit from your head. There is not one thing about you I don't find beautiful."

"Brooks," I snapped. "Stop saying that crap. We both know it's not true."

I found myself flying through the air, flat on my back, and Brooks’ large frame looming over me before I knew what was going on. "You calling me a liar, Tatiana?"

"No. Not a liar. I think you're trying to be polite."

"Doll, we've been over this. I don't say shit just to say it. I'm not polite, I'm honest."

He sat up and rearranged my legs so they were wrapped around his back and he stared down at me. With one hand still on my hip, his other traced the puckered scars on my stomach.

"Please, don't."

He ignored me and continued, touching each one of them. Tenderly. I couldn't stand to watch, to feel his roughened fingertips lightly caress my disgusting skin.

"Stop, Brooks."

His exploration progressed but his gaze came to me. Brooks’ eyes held mine and his hand roamed. I felt the stinging and the liquid was nearly brimming over. I could do nothing to stop the tears from rolling down my cheeks.

"Damn you," I hissed. "Stop."

"Each and every one of these marks represents how strong you are. How mentally tough you are. What your body can endure because you are fierce. Each scar a reminder that you are a force to be reckoned with. Your determination, will, how capable you are. Every blemish tells a story of survival and courage. You are goddamn beautiful and it has nothing to do with your pretty face, soft hair, great fucking legs, and everything to do with these.” His big hand spanned my stomach, almost covering all of the pockmarks. "Your strength makes you the most beautiful woman I've ever seen. And mark this, Tatiana, one day you're gonna see what I see. But in the meantime, I'm gonna remind you and I'm gonna do it often. No way in hell should a woman like you live her life hiding away with a hand up. That hand is gonna fall, too. And when it does, I'll prove to you where you land is a safe and good place to be."

When Brooks stopped speaking, I had no choice but to come to the realization I wasn’t walking away with my heart intact. When he left, I’d have a Brooks Miller-sized hole in my chest. And I would bet it was going to hurt worse than any beating I’d received while in enemy hands.

Chapter 18

By the time I’d allowed Tatiana out of bed, the guys were done with breakfast and were sitting around the table going over the latest information Tex and Garrett, our in-house intel specialist, had sent over. No one said a word about me missing breakfast, and when Tatiana joined us a few minutes later no one said anything to her, either. Which was good because I was still mad as hell the woman disappeared into her head and believed she was somehow damaged and disgusting. It gutted me she thought so little of herself. If nothing else, by the end of this mission, she’d see herself how I did. Capable and strong.

"What time are we leaving?" Tatiana asked, as she poured herself a cup of coffee.

"Twenty hundred. It's a six-hour drive to the eastern province," Declan answered.

"I have to drop off some documents at the naval base and send a few emails before we leave. Leon instructed me to send the UN my resignation effective immediately,” she told us.