Page 6

The dam breaks, and she bursts into tears. I'm right there, pulling her into my arms and securing her against my chest. "Shh, I’ve got you."

She apologizes between sobs, her whimpered sorry cutting through me in a way I can't quite explain. "I’m right here, Eden. I won’t let anything happen to you."

She whispers against my shirt, "It’s not me I’m worried about."

I pull back slightly, giving her a sharp, questioning look. Panic floods her features, but she swallows it down hard and shakes her head, dismissing her own words. I don’t want to force her to talk about anything she’s not ready for, but the warning sticks like a burr in my mind. I gently wipe away her tears, then press a kiss to her forehead.

“Well, our plans for tonight are already set,” I tell her, gesturing toward the large bay window across the living room. Outside, heavy slate-grey clouds have opened up, rain falling in thick, blinding sheets. "Storm’s raging outside," I rumble. "And by the looks of it, we’re in for another night of pouring rain."

“I’m sorry,” she apologizes again, her shoulders slumping.

I look down at her, my jaw tightening. "What are you sorry for?"

She drops her gaze, picking nervously at an imaginary lint ball on her shirt to avoid direct eye contact. "Now you’re stuck with me."

"Good," I reply instantly, shocking her enough to snap her head back up to look at me. "I want you here. I’m not stuck, and you’re not a burden. I’m honored that you trusted me last night, and again today when you got on my bike."

"Honored?" She looks at me skeptically.

"Let me prove it to you, one day at a time."

She nibbles her bottom lip, her eyes darting between mine, seeking out the truth. I stand raw before her, asking again for her trust. "Why would you do that for me?"

My hands come up to frame the sides of her neck, my thumbs stroking slow, intoxicating circles across her jaw. Her eyes flutter closed as my thumbs tickle down her neck, tracking straight to her pulse point. When my lips follow that exact same path, planting a hot kiss against the hollow of her throat, her breath hitches and she melts further into me, her body responding instinctively to my touch.

"You have no idea how precious you are, do you?" I whisper against her skin. "Or how beautiful and brave? Let me show you."

I bring my mouth back up to hers.

"But… you don’t even know me."

"I know enough," I murmur against her lips, our mouths only millimeters apart.

And then I kiss her.

It starts soft, almost reverent, but as a low groan vibrates in my chest, my need deepens, and my tongue seeks entrance, sliding along hers. When her hands curl into my shirt, grabbing fistfuls of cotton, I slide my arms down her body, mapping out every curve with an overwhelming mix of appreciation and devotion.

Her hands roam down my chest and abs, her soft touch igniting an unquenchable fire beneath my skin. Eden tilts her head up, breaking our connection and gasping for air. My lips find her neck, licking and sucking and kissing her sensitive flesh. She’s trembling and clinging to me, her mouth eagerly parting for mine as I kiss my way back up. Our tongues tangle, each of us surrendering to whatever spell has been cast.

When we break apart, Eden turns shy, burying her face into my chest and hugging my waist tightly. I wrap my arms around her, whispering into the top of her head, “Was that too much?” I’d never forgive myself if I pressured this incredible, precious, fragile woman into something she wasn’t ready for.

She shakes her head against my shirt, then mumbles, "Was I… was it okay?"

It takes me a second to process the quiet admission, and then I realize… that was her very first kiss. I gently peel her away from my chest and look into her mesmerizing hazel eyes.

“It was perfect. You are perfect. Thank you for giving me another first.”

A bright, genuine grin breaks across her face, her cheeks turning that lovely shade of rosy pink. Right on cue, a heavy yawn slips past her lips, making me chuckle. "Go on, get some rest. I have some work to do, so you won’t be missing much."

She curls up on the couch, and I dash to my bedroom, grabbing every blanket I own and piling them over her until she’s cocooned in warmth. She giggles softly, thanking me and sighing contentedly as she rolls over.

As she shifts, her shirt dips down in the back, the medical bandage half-peeling off her skin. As I reach out gently to fix it, I see the brand from a different angle.

And that’s when it hits me.

I do know the logo burned onto her back. It’s the exact same symbol stamped onto the stolen shipping crates intercepting our runs—the exact same mark left by the bastards trying to frame the Rebel Kings for crimes we never committed.

My teeth clench so hard my jaw aches, a violent, volcanic fury surging through my veins. But I force myself to reign in my temper, wanting Eden to get the rest she desperately needs while I figure out our next move.