23. Rae
23
RAE
I hated fighting with Harrison last night. But when his text comes through, the churning feeling in my gut is replaced with a block of ice.
I grab Ash and run downstairs and into the backseat of the car driven by security that stubbornly clung to me after I left the villa.
“Did he say what happened?” Ash demands as we lean forward, willing the driver to go faster.
“Nothing more than his text.”
At the hospital, we leap out of the vehicle and bolt inside.
The woman at the nursing station tells us Leni’s in the operating room.
“Did anyone come in with her?” I demand.
She gestures to the hall, where one of the security guards from Debajo paces, another slumped in a chair.
I race over to them, Ash at my heels. One of them says, “Mischa’s men. She went out to chase them off.”
My stomach drops, time stopping. “Where’s Harrison?”
Right now, all that matters is he’s alive. I’m terrified by the possibility that he was there too.
“I’m here.”
The two words make me spin so fast I nearly trip.
Harrison King fills the hallway. His shirt is rumpled and stained, his hands covered in dirt.
My heart stops beating. I rush toward him, scanning the dark stains on his white shirt.
“I’m alright,” he rasps. “This was intentional. They went after her as retaliation for my actions this week.”
My fingers thread through his, and Harrison’s expression fills with guilt and disgust as he stares at my clean hands and his dirty ones.
A doctor emerges from the double doors, stopping in front of us. “Are you her family?”
“Yes,” Harrison says immediately.
The doctor eyes him up and down. “Husband? Brother?—“
“We’re everything she has.”
The doctor relents, tucking a clipboard under his arm. “She has suffered significant blood loss, but her condition is stable.”
Next to me, Harrison exhales hard. “I want her transported to my villa as soon as it’s safe for her to be transported.”
“She should remain under observation for forty-eight hours. That requires staff, equipment?—“
“Fine. I’ll take it all. Spare no expense.” He cuts a look toward the door, then back at me. “I don’t want her alone here.”
“We could have security stay?—“
“No. It’s not enough.”
The grim look on his face makes me realize how agonizing this is for him. He’s pale, his lips thinned, eyes haunted. He knows this is bad, and could’ve been worse.
“I want to see her.” Harrison looks past the doctor toward the doors, seeming to think better of charging through without permission. “Can I?”
“In a few minutes. I’ll show you to her recovery room.”
* * *
It’s midafternoon by the time Harrison sees Leni and makes arrangements to have her transported back to the villa later today.
Ash heads for the car, Harrison heading for his Ferrari.
I hold up a finger to tell my security to wait for me as I cross to Harrison.
“Should you drive?” I ask, leaning in the driver’s window.
He lifts his gaze to mine. “Yes. I’m all right.”
I nod, but before I can pull back, he lays his hand over mine. “Thank you. For being here.”
I swallow hard. “Of course.”
“No, not ‘of course.’ You’ve been keeping an eye on my family. All my family,” he goes on, meaning Leni.
I pull my fingers away. “What can I say? They grew on me.”
Our gazes hold as if neither of us wants to pull back from this shared connection. I’m not sure who needs it more.
Finally, I turn back and slide into the backseat of the car next to Ash.
This time when security asks where we’re headed, I say, “The villa.”
Ash cocks his head. “You want me to go another round with my brother?”
“You were barely conscious for the last one,” I point out. “And yes, you’re coming.”
His normally dancing blue eyes are dull, but he squeezes my shoulder. “I’ve had worse.”
We follow the Ferrari through the streets and up the driveway. When we get to the house, Ash tells me, “Think I’ll go crash for a bit.”
Harrison and I follow him inside, where a worried Barney greets us with a whimper. I scratch his head as Natalia emerges from the kitchen, looking equally concerned.
Harrison fills her in, and Natalia bustles off to get a room ready for Leni, and it’s just the two of us.
His sharp jaw is as stubborn as ever, his mouth pressed in a firm line, but his square shoulders are slumped as he crosses to the kitchen for water, pouring me one too. I take it and sip, my gaze lingering on the streaks of dirt caked on Harrison’s hands as he braces himself against the sink.
“Leni was always up for anything,” he mutters, “including a bar fight. I didn’t learn until later she was shy growing up. One of her friends from summer camp said she used to be timid. Wouldn’t play in the dirt for fear of staining her clothes.” His exhale is half laugh. “Can you believe it?”
I fold my arms across my chest. I want to go to him, but I can’t. Not yet.
“I led her to this, Raegan,” he whispers. “I blame my parents for what they did, but I’m no better.”
The agony in his voice guts me.
“You can choose to be better,” I say.
“My top employee is bleeding in the hospital. My brother is doing drugs from the same man who killed our parents. It’s my fucking fault.”
God, the blood and dirt on him is getting to me, almost as much as the way he’s speaking. “Come on.”
He looks up in surprise as I take his hand. I lead him upstairs and down the hall into his bedroom, tugging the door closed behind us.
I pull him into the en suite. Then I reach for the buttons on his shirt.
His blue gaze searches mine, perplexed. “You don’t have to?—“
“Shut up.”
I start running a bath and strip him down. He stops me only once—to set his phone on the counter, along with a gold ring that makes my breath catch.
I’m curious about it, but I don’t ask as he steps into the bath.
When I start to scrub him clean, he stops me. “You don’t need to take care of me.”
“We all need taking care of sometimes. I learned that from you.” I sneak a look at him as I wash his hands, the dirt under his nails.
He sinks back in the tub, watching me with half-lidded eyes. “I won’t be responsible for any more people I care about being hurt.”
“You’ll stop going after Mischa, then? Because that’s the price.”
He studies me while I switch to the other hand.
“I can’t succeed,” he says. “Not if the people I love are hurt in the process. Without them, I have nothing.”
“Leni and Ash know they’re important to you,” I say softly.
His throat bobs. “Without you , I am nothing.”
The painful balloon stretching my chest expands more. “It’s not enough for you to put me on some pedestal I never asked for. To do reckless shit to protect me and anyone else. Any decisions we make, we make together. That’s the deal.”
I’m willing to put my heart on the line for him, but we can’t be together unless he does this.
His mouth tips up at one corner. “You’re right. That’s how we’ll do things.”
A wave of emotion washes over me. “You mean it?”
His slow nod makes the block of ice in my stomach start to melt.
He stands and surveys me. A hard, dripping god in a rare moment of vulnerability.
“You’re wet,” I murmur.
He reaches an arm around my waist and tugs me toward him. I step over the edge of the bathtub, my bare foot finding grip on the bottom as the water rises to my calves.
“What are you doing?” I ask.
“I want you with me.”
“I’m here.”
“Not close enough.”
Before I can decide whether to strip out of my clothes or try to coax him out of the bath, he tugs me down into the water. I’m soaked. My denim shorts are plastered to my hips, my tank top sticking to every inch of my breasts and heaving stomach. He strips the shirt over my head before getting to work on my shorts.
“Good luck getting them off.”
“Challenge accepted.” The glint in his eyes is the first hint of humor I’ve seen him show in a week, and I didn’t realize I was starved for it until now.
He works the shorts off my hips, though I slide and send a sheet of water cascading over the side of the tub in the process. We’re both breathless when he drags my hips to straddle his, the impressive erection pressing against my wet panties.
“I succeeded.” The rumble of his voice strokes along my skin. “I’m claiming my prize.”
The tension is as thick as the steam around us. I skim a finger across his muscled bicep, trace the scars on his chest.
“I don’t have anything for a king,” I murmur. “I can’t sleep. I can’t stay in one place. I’m just a girl from Orange County.”
“Then I’ll stay up with you all night. And in the morning, I’ll follow you anywhere.”
He crushes my lips to his, his grip on the back of my neck desperate. As if he needs this to keep breathing.
In this moment, I need him too.
I know what it’s like to lose him. This past week, I was losing him all over again before my eyes. I tried to keep doing my job, to appreciate everything I’ve built for myself, but nothing felt the same without having this man to talk to, to laugh with, even argue with.
“Make me yours,” I murmur against his mouth.
His hands slick down my back to my hips. He grinds against the panel of my panties, where my wetness mingles with the bath.
Harrison’s touch slips under my bra to squeeze my breast. I arch into the pressure, tortured by his rough palm and the pinch of his fingers on my pebbled nipple.
Every ridge and plane under my touch is perfect. I stroke down to brush his cock, the silky hardness of him. He catches my hand, forcing my exploratory touch to still. Then he threads his fingers through my hair.
The intensity on his face overwhelms me. Emotions so vivid I never thought I’d see them on this man.
Regret.
Devotion.
Love.
He drags my underwear to the side to position his cock. The first stroke makes me gasp. He fills me so tightly, rubbing against that magical place. I’m drenched.
My hips buck into his, seeking more friction. He grabs my waist and grinds in a slow circle. The intensity of his gaze makes my blood pound.
My hands slip as I try to grab the side of the bath. I fall forward, braced against his hard chest. My knees wedge themselves on either side of his torso, squeezing as he fills me with a long, deep thrust.
He’s attuned to every breath, every twitch I make. All the emotions of the past week, the frustration and worry, evaporate in the steam. His humility is still there, but it’s twined with determination. Conviction that he can give us both what we need.
We’re making a mess of the bathroom.
I don’t care.
I cup his face, soaking up his look of devotion before I kiss him hard. Harrison lets me take control of his lips, his tongue. Below, he’s driving the rhythm of our coupling.
My knuckles dig into his shoulders as he fucks me, as I meet him stroke for stroke.
His hands knead my ass, building the pressure inside. His fingers drift between my cheeks, my breath hitches. When one presses behind where we’re joined inside, I gasp into his mouth.
Nerve endings light up my entire body. It’s surprisingly intense but feels so good. It’s not something we’ve done before, but I can feel his need to assure himself I’m his, all of me.
“You okay?” he murmurs, pulling back to assess my reaction.
“Yeah.” I’m breathless and dazed by the rush of sensation. “I want to know what this feels like.”
Harrison rubs me in slow circles, a look of satisfaction and fascination on his face. The pleasure builds until I can’t catch my breath, and when he adds more pressure, his finger slipping inside, I gasp against his lips.
I can’t believe I’m allowing this. I can’t believe I’m enjoying it.
He strokes my ass, adding a second finger which only makes me clench around him harder.
“Oh my God.”
He slants his mouth over mine, curving his tongue to suit my silent demands. His hips roll, his hands knead, and the pressure within me builds. I sink my teeth into his lower lip, plundering his mouth, devouring him again and again.
His speed picks up, and I rock back, riding his cock and his fingers.
The eyes I love are so dark they’re indigo, the sea on the blackest night. “Beautiful. My fucking beautiful queen.”
His words, defiant and reverent, are more than I can take.
A shudder racks through me, lifting my body as I come. He tenses, staying inside me, catching me as I fall apart. He shudders again and I can feel his release, pulsing into me.
The tension deep in my core tears, sending ripples outward as I cry out.
A few strokes later, Harrison’s jaw tightens. His gaze cuts between my face and where we’re joined. The sight of him coming makes me want to come again too. He sees it and fucks me through it until I do.
After, he helps me out of the bath and dries both of us with huge, fluffy towels.
I’m wrapping a towel around me and knotting it at my breasts when he says, “You trusted me, and I let you down. I won’t do it again.”
I catch his eye in the mirror. “You will.”
He stiffens.
“I want your word that we’ll figure it out when you do.” I collect my soaked clothes and hang them on the bathtub before starting out into his bedroom.
“Through everything,” he says.
I glance over my shoulder and see him standing naked by the closet, turning over the ring in his fingers.
“This was my mother’s,” he says. “Found it in the guest room with Ash the other day. She always wore it.”
I take it from him, admire the inscription.
I wish I’d met them. No matter their flaws, they created something beautiful in this world—Harrison and his brother. Made two boys who turned into the kind of men any parents would be proud of.
“You can choose to believe in them,” I say, passing the ring back. “It doesn’t make you weak or wrong.”
His throat bobs as he sets it on the vanity again with a nod.
Harrison reaches into his closet and riffles through dress shirts until he chooses a navy-blue one. Ever the discerning customer, even in his own collection. Instead of putting it on, he motions at me to turn.
I hold out my arms and he helps me into the shirt. The bottom reaches halfway to my knees, and I cock my head up at him. He fastens the buttons from the bottom up, deciding to leave the top two open.
The doorbell rings downstairs, and we both straighten.
I don’t give a thought to what I’m wearing. Harrison tugs on pants and tucks his phone in his pocket before following me down the hall.
Ash sticks his head out of the guest room. “Did you hear something?”
“Probably the hospital staff bringing Leni’s equipment,” I suggest.
But as Harrison reaches for the door and pulls it wide, Ash and I flanking him, we realize our mistake.
It’s not the hospital staff.