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I just shrugged. “I’m glad you got away, I just wish Victoria had too. I wish she hadn’t gone through that.”
“You went through worse,” Brennan rasped, and I shot him a smile, amused and touched that he was defending me. “Come on, Camille, it’s time we got you home.”
Damn, that sounded good.
Some of my energy had flagged by the time I hugged Innie goodbye, and when we made it back into the SUV, I sagged into the bucket seat, uncaring that I might get car sick, just needing to catch my breath.
“I want to tell you that you should have waited, Camille, that you didn’t have to do what you did,” he rasped, breaking into the silence and prompting me to let my eyes drift open, “but I’m oddly proud of you for attacking first.”
With his gaze straight ahead, his face expressionless, I wasn’t sure if he meant that or not. Was unsure if he was disgusted by me and was just trying to make me feel better, but I decided that I didn’t care.
I was proud of me too.
It might have been unnecessary as there couldn’t have been two minutes between Brennan storming the compound and me attacking Abramovicz but I hadn’t known that, had I?
I’d acted. I’d saved Victoria. I’d saved myself.
“Thank you, Brennan,” I told him softly. “You didn’t have to say that.”
His attention darted off the road for a split second, but his scowl was very much in appearance. “I don’t have to say that? I let you down today, Camille. I broke—” He swallowed thickly. “I broke my promise to your mother, to you. Fuck.” When he rolled to a halt at a stop sign, he leaned over, resting his forehead on his hands which were at the twelve o’clock position on the wheel.
Surprised, I just looked at him a second, unsure of what to do, but I decided to let my instincts reign. They’d helped me out today, after all.
I leaned over, and even though my hands were dirty and speckled with blood, I smoothed my fingers over his hair, cupping the back of his neck as I murmured, “You came for me, Brennan. You could have left us. I’m a wife you didn’t really want—”
“‘Didn’t’ being the operative word,” he grated out, his head pivoting so he could look at me. “I—I thought I lost you today, Camille. When I burst into that room, you were sprawled out flat. You were covered in blood. I didn’t see you breathing. It felt like you weren’t. Maybe I was projecting; I don’t know. But I just...” He blew out a breath. “I didn’t want you. Youwerea promise I had to fulfil, however I can’t let you carry on thinking that.”
“We’ve only known each other...” Damn, why was I arguing? This was everything I wanted, and nothing I’d ever expected. Blinking back the tears that had started to prickle my eyes, I whispered, “Brennan?”
“Yeah?”
“We have to move. The horns.”
It was an orchestra of pissed-off New Yorkers that serenaded me as, wordlessly, Brennan let me know he had deeper feelings for me. As I let him know the same.
“Fuck them.”
My throat felt thick, my eyes still stung, but I whispered, “We don’t have to put a name to it. We don’t have to even describe it. Just know that I feel the same.”
He clenched his teeth, but his words were simple as he said, “I’m glad,” and like that, he started up the car and drove us to the apartment.
Once inside, we went straight to his,no,our room, and after stripping off, he pulled out his phone and did the most astonishing thing—he turned it off and left it on the bathroom vanity.
We climbed into the shower together, and he tended to me as if I was something precious. Something to cherish. It was unexpected and delicious, and I appreciated him cleaning me as much as I appreciated the show when it was his turn to wash up.
I was exhausted, too drained to do anything but watch, but damn, he was better thanMagic Mike.
After, he dried me, taking care to smooth the towel over my skin, making sure no part of me was damp, then he even put toothpaste on the toothbrush for me, watching as I spat out a few gross remnants of blood, and then handed me the bottle of Listerine.
When I was cleaned to his satisfaction, he moved us over to his bed. He held my hand as he lowered me between the sheets, then said, “Wait there.”
Like I was going to go anywhere.
I closed my eyes a second, and then the next, opened them to find him there, sitting beside me with a bottle of pills in one hand and a glass of water in the other.
Sadly, he’d put on a pair of boxer briefs, I noticed, as I reached for both.
“Take two. It’s only Ibuprofen,” he directed.
