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Chapter Twelve
Her words were soft as silk and a part of him didn’t care what she was saying as long as she kept talking. But he needed her rested for that particular conversation and the one he knew he couldn’t hold off much longer.
But now wasn’t the time. He shook his head. “There’s time for that tomorrow. My brothers won’t be here until the morning after closing Haven. We’re here alone for the next few hours. Safe and quiet. You have nothing to worry about. Finish your tea. It will help and then you will shower.” He pressed the cup to her lips gently and waited for her to drink her fill.
Through it all, he could feel the command in his voice stiffen her spine and he had to hold back a small grin. The shock of the evening was wearing off and his Rhia was slowly regaining the steel resolve he knew she possessed and wielded like a weapon as lethal as any gun.
He set the cup down for her when she finished and stood with her anchored to his chest and her nose only inches from his.
“I can walk, you know? I wasn’t the one shot.” Yet she looped her arms around his neck with a blend of worry and excitement in her words.
Arousal flushed her cheeks and clung to the air he breathed in like a personal perfume made only for him.
Which it was.
Whether she knew it or not she liked him caring for her, craved his touch like he did hers. All of it turned her on.
Leaning in, he ran the tip of his nose along her exposed neck, tightening his fingers into the hard material of her jeans. He could sense the way her body reacted to him no matter what she wanted to verbally throw at him. The more they touched the more excited she became.
Rhia watched him, again all those silent questions of hers reflecting back at him through her expressive eyes. He should walk away, give her back to her family and let her find happiness away from them. Find someone she could walk in the light with. Away from all the death he lived amongst.
But he wanted what he wanted and he was a selfish bastard with no remorse.
“Why should you have to walk when I can keep you in my arms a little bit longer this way?”
Guilt flashed across her expression, and he chuckled, making her relax into his chest.
“Consider this your penance for wounding my pride with your bullet.”
“Really? When you put it that way, if that’s all it took to get your hands on me again, maybe I should have done it sooner.”
So she had noticed I’ve been keeping my distance.
He guided them past the kitchen and up a flight of stairs that led to his suite and placed her gently on the edge of his bed.
Kneeling in front of her, he slipped off her running shoes and helped balance her as she peeled off the blood-splattered jeans.
He picked up the hitch of her breath as he pulled the material inch by inch down her thighs. She watched him closely as he drank in the sight of her silk thong.
Seeing the thin material splayed over the soft, delicate flesh of her folds made him groan with hunger.
He stood, taking the hem of her hoody—Roman’s, he noticed—in his hands and slowly pulled the thick material over her head. In a slow movement, he tossed it in the growing pile of clothes.
Anger surfaced again as he took in the scrapes and blooming bruises against her delicate flesh. Purple quickly turned black over her thighs, shoulders, and stomach.
She traced the direction of his gaze and moved to cover herself with her hands when she found nothing else within grasping distance, but he stopped her with a hand over hers.
He dropped to his knees in front of her.
“Don’t. I need to see,” he snarled. Dropping his hands to the side of the bed, he locked her in place.
“It’s okay, Sevastyan. I’ll heal in time.”
“Are you in pain? Don’t lie to me, either. I’ll know.”
“I’m getting a little stiff. Nothing a long shower won’t help with.”
He could hear the truth in her voice.
