Chapter Forty-Seven
M y head swimming, I opened my eyes.
I smelled him before I saw him.
His soap, his cologne, the slight smell of smoke, it was all over the covers surrounding me.
Then his voice blanketed me in longing. “How are you feeling?”
Heartsick and horrible. “Where am I?” I knew where I was. I just didn’t know if they were here also—his family. The woman who should be in his bed instead of me.
“My place.”
The bed shifted, and I couldn’t avoid it anymore.
I turned my head to look at him.
Oh God. Why did he have to be everything I’d ever wanted?
Waning twilight cut sharp angles across his strong features and bare chest. Lying on his side, his head propped on one fist, his dark eyes bored into mine. “Hey.”
“I shouldn’t be here.”
Inhaling, he drew his eyebrows together, but he didn’t deny it. Instead, he rolled to his back and stared at the ceiling. “You changed your mind.”
I fought not to lash out at him in anger and hurt. “That’s irrelevant.” I didn’t have a wife and child.
“Right,” he clipped, rolling up and out of the bed in one graceful movement. “Fucking perfect.” His muscles flexing and bunching, in nothing but formfitting boxers, he stalked to a dresser and wrenched a drawer open. Riffling through it in anger, he yanked clothes out and threw them on the bed. “Get out of that dress.” He practically sneered at me. “Or don’t.” He turned toward the door.
I lost my tenuous hold on what little dignity I had left and raised my voice. “You don’t get to be angry at me.”
He spun. “Don’t I?”
What the hell? “I didn’t do this. You did .”
“What did I do?” he demanded. “Besides get you out alive and save you from being raped? What did I do, Ludeviene?” he bit out, enunciating each word.
Anger squeezed my throat and burned my eyes with impotent tears as his words replayed in my head like a cruel joke. You’re it for me. You’re it for me.
“I’ll fucking tell you what I did,” he continued, raising his voice when I said nothing. “I laid my fucking heart at your feet. That’s what I did!”
I didn’t think I could break any more, but I did. “You lied to me.” My voice broke. “You lied about everything.”
Throwing his hands up, he yelled, “What are you talking about?”
“You’re married!”
“ What? ”
“Mercy and Nash,” I reminded him, choking on their names, horrified that they could be here in this house right now.
His hands went to his hips, and for one impossible moment he looked at me like I’d lost my ever-loving mind.
Then, calm and controlled, his voice low, he spoke. “Mercy is my sister. Nash is my nephew.”
My heart stopped.
Then started again.
I rolled to my side and burst into tears.
“Jesus fucking Christ,” he muttered a second before the bed dipped and impossibly huge arms snaked around me. Careful of my wound, he pulled my back to his chest. “Is that why you walked out?”
Crying, horrified, relieved, embarrassed, I couldn’t speak. I nodded.
His breath touched my ear. “You promised me words.”
“I can-can’t,” I cried.
His arms tightened. “Can’t what?”
“Give you words.” I just wanted to cry.
“All right, sweetheart.” He kissed my shoulder. “It’s all good for now.”
I couldn’t stop the tears. “I don’t feel good.” I was nauseous and my head was pounding and everything felt shitty.
He reached behind him and came back with a water bottle. “Your arm’s infected, you passed out, you haven’t eaten, and you’ve been through hell. I’d feel like shit too.” He opened the water bottle and held it to my lips. “Drink.”
With a trembling hand, I did as he said because suddenly I was the thirstiest I’d ever been in my life. The water soothed my dry throat and helped to stem the tears. After half the bottle was gone, I handed it back. “My arm’s infected?”
“Yeah. Talon, a medic who served with Luna, came by and fixed you up though. You’re on antibiotics for the next week and we gotta change your bandage a few times a day. And no getting the wound wet for a couple of days.”
That was going to make showering hard, but it didn’t seem like I had a choice. “Okay.”
“I’m sorry I let that happen,” he said quietly, like he was admitting to a sin.
“It wasn’t your fault.”
Inhaling, he held me for a moment before he spoke again. “I’m gonna make us some food, then we can talk about your father.”
I didn’t want to talk about my father. I wanted to sleep for week in this man’s arms and forget about everything. “Maybe.”
“Would you rather talk about the fact that you believed I lied to you?”
I turned my face into his pillow that smelled like him. “Not that either.” But it reminded me of his sister and his nephew and the torment on their faces when they saw him. “Where are your sister and nephew?”
“Back home.” He glanced at his watch. “Mercy’s probably at work.”
“What does she do?”
“Nurse.”
“Your nephew’s deaf?”
“Yep.” He kissed my cheek and untangled himself from me. “Learned ASL for him. How about you?”
I rolled to face him as he got up. “It was an elective in school.”
He smirked. “Must’ve been some school. I had a choice between shop and weight lifting.”
It wasn’t hard to see which he’d chosen. “I’m betting you took the latter.”
He flexed his arms as the corner of his mouth tipped up. Then he annihilated my heart. He winked. “Yep.”
A sudden rush of heat flushed my face and swirled in my core. “It works for you.”
He smirked, then leaned over the bed and kissed my forehead. “Stay. Rest. I’ll cook.” He turned to leave.
“I’m sorry,” I blurted.
Pausing with his hand on the door handle, he looked over his shoulder at me. “For?”
“Putting you at risk, taking you away from your sister and nephew…” I took a deep breath. “Not believing you when you told me you weren’t married.”
For a long moment, he didn’t say anything. Then he tipped his chin and walked out.