FOUR
OLIVIA
I wake up. Pain shoots to my side with every shallow breath. I shift my weight. A sharp, grinding pain shoots through my ribs again. I wince.
Julian sits in the leather chair beside the bed. His head rests on the back of the chair. His eyes are closed. Tie missing. His shirt looks like he slept in it for a week. He’s sleeping, but I see the dark circles under his eyes. He hasn’t had a good night’s sleep in a while.
This has been going on for three days. Me in the bed. Him in the chair. I told him on the first night he can sleep next to me or in the spare bedroom. He refuses. He says he’s sleeping comfortably in the chair. I know it’s a lie.
I make a small noise when I try to sit up straight. It is barely a whisper.
Julian moves. He’s on his feet before I can blink. He leans over the bed. His eyes scan my face. His pupils dilate.
“Are you in pain?” he asks. His voice is gravel.
“A little.” I try to sit up.
“Let me put a pillow behind your back.” He helps me sit up slowly. He puts the pillows behind my back for comfort.
“Stay still. I will get you something to eat. You need to take your meds.”
He rubs his eyes. Fully awake now, he turns and walks out of the room.
I wait until his footsteps fade into the hallway.
Slowly, I move my legs until they hang off the bed.
I grit my teeth against the screaming agony in my ribs.
Pushing myself up. I walk slowly to the bathroom door.
Leaning against the frame. My breath comes in short, ragged bursts.
I turn the shower on and step in. I peel off my t-shirt. My ribs scream. I grit my teeth and force myself to breathe. It hurts like hell. But I manage.
The hot water hits my skin. It feels like a mercy.
I move slow. Wash my hair with one hand.
The effort leaves me gasping. Once I’m cleaner, I step out.
I wrap a towel around myself. Dress in fresh clothes that were already in the bathroom.
Julian must have put them there last night.
He has done it for three days. I open the door. Steam billows into the bedroom.
Julian stands there. He holds a tray. A fresh croissant sits on a plate next to a glass of orange juice. He drops the tray onto the nightstand. He covers the distance between us in two strides.
He scoops me up into his arms slowly. He tries not to hurt me. I stiffen.
“I walked here,” I say. “I can walk back.”
“You could have waited for me,” he says.
For the past few days he has made sure I have everything and helped me out of my clothes, leaving me in my underwear before he left the bathroom.
He unclasps my bra as it is difficult for me to unclasp it and then he leaves.
When I’m done, he helps me dress again, not once looking at me as if he wants to rip my clothes from my body and have his way with me.
I know as with any warm-blooded man he must feel something.
The bulge in his pants says as much. But he has excellent self-control.
“I can help myself,” I tell him.
He ignores me. He lowers me onto the bed.
His hands are careful. He leaves no room for me to argue.
He fetches the towel for my hair from the bathroom.
He starts towel drying my hair. When it’s dry enough, he took a brush from his dresser and stands in front of me while I stay seated on the bed.
He brushes my hair in soft, even strokes.
A sense of normalcy settles into my skin.
He watches me in silence until I pick up the croissant. Every bite goes down slow. I take the pills. The orange juice washes them down, bringing relief to my dry, aching throat.
My gaze drifts to him. He remains standing by the bed.
“Kieran,” I say.
I take a deep, slow breath in.
“I need to tell you what happened. I know you were giving me time to heal before we broach the subject. But I have to tell you what he told me.”
Julian takes the chair next to the bed. He faces me.
“He was at St. Clair with you,” I tell him.
“What?” Julian sits up straight. He looks shocked.
“Apparently, he tried to get your attention in school. But you never once looked his way. He said he had feelings for you. He still does. Spent years clawing his way into your firm just to get on your radar.”
Julian shakes his head. His brow furrows.
“I didn’t know him back in school,” he says. “I wasn’t even aware of him.”
I nod. “That is what he said. Even now when he worked at NexaCore you still didn’t see him. Not the way he sees and thinks of you. You only see a friend.”
Julian stares at the floor. He says nothing.
“I don’t sway that way,” he says, his voice flat. He stands and walks to the window. “He must have known that. So why take you?”
He paces a short distance back to me with his clenching hands at his sides.
“Why did he not come to me and talk to me? He dared put his hands on you instead of coming to me.” His eyes darken.
“I know,” I say. I watch his jaw tick.
“I don’t know what his real motive was by taking me and hurting me.”
He walks over to the bed and sits on the edge. He looks at me for a long time.
“I kept thinking I was too late,” he says. His voice is low.
He takes my hand in his.
“Every second on the way to that warehouse I thought I was already too late.”
“Julian.”
His eyes lift to mine.
“You found me,” I say. I move my hand to his cheek. He leans into my palm.
Something in his face breaks. His control slips.
“I would have burned the city down looking for you.” He takes a deep breath.
“I… I thought I lost you forever.” His voice cracks.
I reach up, cupping his face as I pull him down to me.
The kiss begins with his hesitation and his fear of hurting me, but I don’t let him pull away.
I press closer and deepen the contact. This isn’t about anything other than the last three days.
It is the terror and the relief. It is the simple fact that I’m alive and he’s here.
We were given a second chance. Especially me. I want to see what we can build together. I know it’s what Julian wants, too. I’m not ready to jump into a full relationship yet, but I want to find out where this leads.
He pulls back. His eyes search mine.
“Are you sure?” he asks.
I do not answer with words. I slide my hand behind his neck and pull him back to me. His mouth crashes into mine. The kiss is harder now. Desperate. Three days of fear. Three days of pain. Three days of waking up and finding him in that chair beside my bed.
His hand cups my jaw, careful of the bruises and the cut on my cheek. He’s always so careful. My chest aches with something unfamiliar. It’s not the rib. It’s him.
Julian pulls back just enough to rest his forehead against mine. His eyes stay closed. A shaky breath leaves him. I have never seen him like this. I have never seen cracks in all that control. I have never seen him look this wrecked. His thumb brushes across my cheek.
“You scared the hell out of me.” His voice is rough. Raw.
I swallow. “I’m sorry.”
His eyes open instantly. “No.” The word comes out hard. His jaw tightens. “Do not apologize.”
His hand slides into my hair. “When Maya called and said you were not at your apartment yet and should have been there...” His throat works. “I couldn’t think.”
I stare at him.
“I couldn’t breathe.”
The admission hits me hard. This is Julian Thorne. The man who walks into boardrooms and controls billion-dollar companies without blinking. The man everyone fears. The man who never loses control.
Kieran taking me broke something inside him. My eyes burn.
“Julian...”
“I should have protected you.”
“No.” I grab his shirt. The fabric bunches in my fist. “This isn’t your fault.”
His gaze drops. “It feels like it. I should have seen behind his fa?ade.”
The silence between us hangs heavy. I reach up, trailing my fingers over his face.
“You found me.”
His eyes meet mine.
“I will always find you.”
The certainty in his voice steals the air from my lungs. No hesitation. No doubt. Just truth. For a second, we both just sit there, frozen. Then he leans forward and presses his lips to my forehead. The gesture nearly breaks me. It isn’t about romance. It feels safe.
I close my eyes. For the first time since that warehouse, the knot inside my stomach loosens. Just a little. Julian stays beside me. One arm wraps around my shoulders. My head on his shoulder. He holds me together. He holds himself together. For the first time in days, neither of us lets go.