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“Liar,” I say, calling her out. “We both know it has something to do with the storm.”
“Alright fine. So thunder scares me. You can laugh at how ridiculous that is. I’m a full-grown woman that’s scared of thunder.”
I’m stricken by that comment. “I would never laugh at something that causes you pain.”
“I know,” she breathes without looking at me. “And I’m fine now, so you don’t have to be worried. The panic attack has come and gone. I’ll call my therapist tomorrow morning. You don’t have to worry,” she repeats.
“You have a therapist?”
“You don’t?” she retorts. Then she smiles and I just know what the next words out of her will be. “That’s messed up, Chris. You off all people need a therapist to sort through those damaged thoughts in your head.”
She’s only half-joking and I don’t rise to the bait. My gaze is firm, steely as I stare at the side of her face. Her gaze shifts to mine and immediately softens.
“You know, most times I think to myself that you’ll never really care about me besides out of duty and honor. Then you look at me like that and I’m not sure what to think.”
“I—” I pause, unsure what the next words out of my mouth should be.
She’s right. I shouldn’t care about her more than out of duty and honor, but then there are those cracks, moments where I want to. Where I want to let her in, but that would be giving her power over me. And I’m not wired to let anyone have that much control over me.
Daniella gives me a half-smile. She’s probably enjoying seeing me all riled up. She looks dazzling in the low light of the room, like a shadow I conjured and somehow impossibly like an angel from my dreams.
“Thanks for helping me,” she says cryptically.
I blink. “I didn’t do anything.”
“You came in here and distracted me,” Daniella says, getting to her feet. “Plus, I really didn’t mind the view.”
My gaze goes down to my bare chest. I completely forgot I undressed, and with the way she’s looking at me right now, I’m starting to think that was a bad idea.
“You hear that?” Daniella questions. I can’t hear anything so I shake my head. “Silence. The rain’s stopped, D’Angelo. So you can stop playing hero and leave.”
“I’m not playing at anything. And I’m not leaving you.”
“I’m about sixty seconds away from mauling you and climbing you like a tree. So if you don’t want that. I suggest you walk away, baby,” she teases.
A rush of heat begins in my chest and spreads down to my cock, hardening it. One look from this woman and I’m gone. It’s maddening.
“You’re not like any other woman I know,” I say, my gaze dropping to her lips.
She winks. “Of course not. I have to at least be special to drive you wild all the time.”
Who doesn’t love a self-aware woman?
“Seriously, Christian. Go away,” she says.
My gaze narrows. “You’re not kicking me out or sending me away. You need me.”
“I don’t,” she says, but the words coming out of her lips are at war with the tension in her shoulders.
Daniella uses jokes and sarcasm to cope with her pain. When she feels cornered, she says dumb things so no one focuses on what’s beneath the surface. So even if she’s telling me she’s okay now, I know that’s not true.
“Fine, maybe you don’t need me. But I want to help you.”
“You can help me by walking out of here,” she suggests.
“No. I’m not leaving you in here.”
If I leave, I’ll worry all night that’s she’s going to have another panic attack. Plus, it’s getting cold.
