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4
You’re safe now. Don’t cry, love. You’re safe.
Dane’s words fell over Lillian like sunshine after a storm. Warmth spread through her and she reveled in this feeling of comfort and safety, even as she told herself she ought to move away. She should not throw herself into his arms like this. It was wrong, and yet…
It felt so right.
For the first time in ages she felt safe and she could not bring herself to step away. Not when she heard him murmur something low to the people behind her, not even when she heard the door shut, leaving them alone.
A hand smoothed over her hair and heat spread through her limbs. Another hand stroked her back as soft, gentle murmurs of comfort filled her ears.Hush, my love. You’re all right now, sweetheart.
Words of comfort and endearments that seemed so at odds with this oversized brute. But while his body was big and his muscles hard beneath her cheek, his hands were unfailingly gentle.
And beyond that, she trusted him. He would never hurt her, and that knowledge meant more to her than she could say.
She had no notion of how much time passed before he shifted and then scooped her up into his arms.
“I’ve got you,” he murmured when she tensed.
And then she relaxed into the cradle of his arms and buried her head against his shoulder.
“Tell me what happened,” he said when her tears had subsided and she lapsed into a blissful state of calm. The stress and fears of the last few days seemed to melt away and she wished for nothing more than to shut her eyes and sleep.
But his words made her stiffen slightly, and when she shifted in his arms, her body came awake as well. For the first time, she felt it.
Cradled as she was in his lap, a slight shift made her acutely aware of the hard length of his manhood beneath her bottom. Her breath left her in a rush as fear made her grow rigid in his arms. Her mind and body froze in panic as the memory of that night took possession of her thoughts.
For a moment it was happening all over again. The frightening grip, the rough shove, those harsh and greedy hands holding her down and tugging up her skirts.
Lillian’s body thrashed and a pathetic whimper escaped as she battled to be free of his arms.
He held her still, his embrace firm but not painful. His lips were near her ear. “Easy, child,” he said, his voice low and gruff. “I will not harm you.”
And indeed, he made no move to touch her. His hands were still on her back, and he seemed to be holding himself just as rigid as she. Her mind and body had frozen but as he repeated those words again, and then twice more, the familiar rumble of his voice cut through the cold panic. Slowly, ever so slowly, the panic receded.
When at last she could pull back to face him, she gasped at the fury in his eyes. An anger so fierce it seemed to light his dark eyes with fire.
The Beast was what the people on the streets called him, but she remembered what his father had called him—devil’s spawn. His own father had called him that, and she’d always known it to be a lie. But right now? Now she saw a flicker of hell in his eyes, and a shudder raced through her for the man who would face his ire.
“What happened to you?” It wasn’t a question. It was a demand. A command.
Her lips parted in surprise. This was not the boy she remembered. Of course it wasn’t. He was a man now, and where once she’d seen his weaknesses, they were now covered with scars. One such scar trailed a path from his ear to the corner of his mouth. It was faint, but this close she could see it clearly, just as she could see the stubble that roughened his jaw and the soft fullness of his lips.
She blinked in surprise at her own wayward thoughts. She shouldn’t be staring at his lips. She knew this, and yet she couldn’t look away. Just as she couldn’t bring herself to pull away even though she was pressed against his chest in a manner so unladylike she barely recognized herself.
But she was warm here. She was safe. And right now that mattered more than anything else. Her fingers curled into his warm skin. He was shirtless. She blinked again as her gaze drifted down to the sun-darkened skin beneath her palms. She’d been dimly aware of his half naked state before as she’d cried, but now…
Now the heat from his embrace threatened to scorch her, and her cheeks burned like they’d caught fire. She stared at her hands in horror. She shouldn’t be touching him like this.
And yet she couldn’t bring herself to stop.
His skin was hot, and so blessedly warm and the chill that seemed to have invaded her bones even as the summer heat made her body feel like it was wilting.
There were scars on his chest, as well. Faint. Faded. But they were there and her fingertips traced one that ran from his shoulder to the center of his chest.
His hand clasped hers as he let out a guttural sound that made her shift again.
That was a mistake. Moving on his lap made her all too aware of his hard length which had only seemed to grow and swell since she’d first become aware of it.
