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She’d had her little boy a few hours later and then had been sent home by the overworked nurses with a sheaf of pamphlets, and that had been it. He’d cried all night and she’d cried with him, because she hadn’t had any idea what to do.
The people from Kalithera had arrived the next day.
Solace swallowed again and reached for her anger. It was the only thing that gave her strength, the only thing that got her through the mess her life had become, and that was no doubt about to get messier.
Then the door opened again, Galen standing in the doorway. ‘Come. I have a car waiting.’ His tone was neutral, his gaze running over her, assessing her.
She didn’t like it. It made her uncomfortable. ‘Don’t look at me like that,’ she said. ‘I’m not a bomb about to go off, you know.’
If he was offended, he didn’t show it. ‘Evidently,’ he murmured. ‘Please, follow me.’
Snapping at him won’t help.
Taking a deep breath, she let her grip on her anger loosen a bit then went to the door and followed Galen down the hallway to the entrance way.
Black-suited men waited discreetly outside as she went down the steps to the nondescript car waiting at the bottom.
This time it was Galen who held the door open, waiting wordlessly for her to get in before getting in himself. He shut the door, enclosing them once again in the intimate space of the car.
Her breath caught, the delicious scent of his aftershave surrounding her, reminding her of everything that had happened the night before. Of his hands stroking her and his mouth tasting her. Of him inside her, creating the most intense pleasure between them. Of the weight of him on her and the way he’d held her down, and that terrible feeling of safety...
Prickles of heat washed over her, and she was very, very conscious of the long, powerful thigh almost but not quite touching hers and the seductive warmth of the man sitting next to her. Her mouth dried and she turned her head to look out of the window.
She didn’t want to feel this, not now. She’d used their chemistry last night as a weapon, and, while she still could feel the desire coiling tight, it wasn’t a weapon she wanted to use again.
Deep inside, threads of the ever-present shame and guilt wrapped around each other, but she forced them away. She’d done what she had to do, the way she always did. And anyway, it didn’t matter now. Nothing mattered. Nothing mattered except she was going to see her son.
You don’t deserve this. Not after what you did.
Solace closed her eyes, her nails digging into her palms where she held them in her lap, the pain driving the bitter thoughts away.
Then a sudden warmth covered her hands and she opened her eyes with a start, looking down to see one of Galen’s large hands covering hers. He wore a heavy gold ring on his index finger, clearly very old and etched with vines and leaves growing around a crown.
His royal signet ring. A reminder of who he was.
She could feel the metal pressing lightly against her skin. It was warm. As warm as his hands were.
For a second, she didn’t understand what he was doing. Was this an attempt at seduction and he meant to carry on what had happened between them the night before? But no. His hand didn’t move to stroke or caress. He simply enclosed her icy fingers in his, the way he had that night at the gala after she’d dropped the tray.
Giving her comfort and reassurance.
She didn’t want him to touch her like this. It frightened her. Mainly because something inside her desperately wanted his warmth, his touch, his strength. She wanted to be held, to be reassured. She wanted someone to tell her everything would be okay, because she was tired of every day being a battle.
But she knew what happened when she did that, when she trusted where she shouldn’t. It always ended up with her suffering and she was tired of that too.
She wasn’t sure why this man had the power to make her feel so weak, but she didn’t like it and she didn’t want it.
As if he could feel her tension, his hand squeezed hers gently. ‘Don’t be afraid. I’m not here to hurt you.’
‘I’m not afraid.’ She made as if to pull her hands from his, but he tightened his grip minutely.
‘Relax,’ he murmured as if she hadn’t spoken. ‘You’re safe. Nothing will hurt you while you’re with me. I will not allow it.’
There was a lump in her throat. His grip was very firm, and she doubted she could pull away without causing a fuss, though she could do that, obviously. If she really wanted to. Except...she didn’t want to. It would take too much energy and, anyway, she could let herself have this, couldn’t she? Just his hand holding hers?
It didn’t mean anything, and it wasn’t her giving her trust to him. It was a few moments of human contact, nothing major. And maybe it was even true, that nothing could harm her while he was here. After all, he’d told her she was safe the night before too, and she had been. Perhaps in this moment, she could believe him.
As if that thought was all her body needed, her muscles lost their tension and she felt herself sink into the softness of the seat cushions, let her hands beneath his soak up his warmth. But she kept her gaze firmly out of the window, because looking at him was a step too far.
