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Anna heard the shower turn on. The robe was bulky and awkward in bed, so she slipped out of it and lay naked in the cool, crisp sheets. The room was strange, but in the luxurious surroundings, the day’s events were starting to fade like a bad dream.
Gage returned before long and turned off all the lights but one. She was grateful not to have to ask for a nightlight. Pulling back the sheets, he slipped in next to her.
He wrapped himself around her, all hard warmth, and she snuggled closer. He shifted his hips away, but not before she felt his erection poking at her. She put her hand on his ass. “Good things, remember?”
Propping himself up on an elbow, he asked, “Am I a good thing, Anna?”
She picked up his hand and put it on her chest, letting his fingers cover her scars. “That guy—Becks—he said he and I were alike, because we were both damaged.” Gage parted his lips to say something, but Anna put her fingers on his mouth. “He’s right, in a way. My scars…they’re hideous. But I’m not going to let them define me. They’re on me, but they aren’t the sum total of me.”
He smiled and kissed her fingers. “They don’t define you, that’s true—but they’re not hideous, either. Every bit of you is beautiful. Trust me, I’ve looked. Truth be told, I could get used to this. To you. Do you mind that?”
She smiled. “I think I could put up with a bodyguard.”
“So you don’t blame me for what happened?”
She touched his cheek. He looked so damn serious—so ready to break if she said the wrong thing. She could see the worry in his eyes. She’d never felt this close to anyone, and she wondered if it was simply what happened when you shared a life-threatening experience with someone else. “Of course I don’t blame you,” she assured him. “You’re not the one who hurt me—you saved me. I’ve never trusted anyone like I trust you. But…will this last?”
“What? Us? Hell if I know.”
A thought occurred to her. “Oh, hell, I need to call my mother. The break-in at my apartment probably made the news, and Eloise will never forgive me if I don’t fill her in.”
Gage gave her a considering look. “You don’t seem excited about the prospect.”
“Eloise and I aren’t exactly close. I mean, she’s my mother, but…”
He nodded as if he’d reached a decision, then leaned over and grabbed his phone. “What’s her number?” She gave it to him. “You said you trust me, right?” he asked.
“Yes…”
Gage dialed, but he didn’t hand her the phone. “Hello, Eloise? Hi, yeah, this is Gage. I’m a friend of your daughter Anna. No, she’s fine. No…no, it’s not like that. Yeah, someone trashed her place, so she’s staying with me for a few nights. No…oh, sure.” He held the phone out. “Say hi to your mom so she knows you’re okay and I’m not making this all up.”
“Mom? I mean, Eloise? Hi, yeah, I’m fine—”
Gage beckoned for her to give the phone back, and she was more than willing to do so. “She’ll call you again in the morning, after she’s gotten some rest. What? Oh…okay. Yes, if you think that would be best. We’ll meet up for breakfast.” Another pause. “Definitely, it’ll be quite the event.” He ended the call, then reached over her again to put the phone back on the nightstand. “Wow, she really is something else. She wants to hold a press conference, though I’m not sure what for.”
Anna rolled her eyes. “All publicity is good publicity. Or, I should say, anything is an opportunity for good publicity if Eloise has a chance to spin it. You shouldn’t let her push you into this. It’ll be a full press conference.”
“Hey, if she does all the talking, I’m fine with it. In fact, it’s not a bad idea to make you very, very public for a few days.”
Anna shivered. “Do you think…Becks…Will he come after us again? After me? What am I mixed up in?”
Gage pulled her into his arms. “I don’t know, but for now, just forget about it and try to get some rest.”
She turned, pushed his shoulders down, and sat up. The sheets slid off her. She didn’t care that he could see her, scars and all. She was certain now that she carried worse on the inside. Straddling him, she ran her fingers down his chest. “What about…about us?”
He reached up and cupped her face. “What about us? You can have whatever you want.”
“Really?” She leaned down and kissed him. He tasted like toothpaste—normal, safe. She put her hand on his chest and wondered if she could pull in some of his strength. He stroked her face and let her lead, let her do the exploring. Straightening up, she asked, “You don’t mind?”
“You driving? I’m a fan, actually. Do anything you like.” He spread himself out for her, put his hands flat on the bed and let her touch him, kiss him, lick him. She reveled in the taste of him, in how smooth his skin was over the hard muscles. Reaching down between them, she stroked him. He groaned and closed his eyes. He was letting her take charge—be in control.
She realized then how close she had come—to death, to losing everything. Now, with Gage under her and so vital, she felt alive. Earlier, in the bathroom, she’d noticed that in the basket of toiletries the hotel provided were a few condoms—and, in a burst of hopefulness, she’d slipped one into the pocket of her robe. Retrieving it now, she rolled it onto him. Then she lifted her hips and took hold of him, guided him inside her. She took it slow—she wanted to feel every inch of him. She wanted to feel everything.
Arching her back, she started to ride him. Slow at first, then faster, pumping him hard. Sweat trickled down her spine and slicked her thighs. She moaned and took his hand. “Rub me…I’m so close. Rub me, Gage.”
He touched her, and the world exploded. She shook hard with release, came apart under his fingers. Shivering, she put her hands on his chest and looked down at him. He hadn’t come yet and was still hard inside her.
