Chapter 5 #2
When he came back bearing a tray with a steaming cup of tea and a donut, she almost broke down. Setting the tray on the table in front of her, he took the easy chair across from the sofa and just sat there staring at her.
"I'm not hungry." Finding the silence unnerving, she broke it.
"At least drink the tea."
"I don't need you looking after me." She folded her arms over her chest and gave him a mutinous look.
"We don't always get what we want." Stretching his legs out, he folded his hands and waited for her to pick up the cup. "I'm not leaving."
Snatching up the cup, she took a sip. "Satisfied?"
"Not yet. Not until you finish what's inside."
He was so infuriating! Wrapping her hands around the cup, she took several more sips and could not take another. It would not get past the lump inside her throat. Her eyes were burning, and she was going to humiliate herself by breaking down in front of him.
Realizing what was happening, he rose quickly and crossed over to take the cup from her.
Without a word, he simply eased her off the cushions and sat down.
Pulling the throw rug, he spread it over her shaking body and pressed her into his arms. His gentleness was her undoing.
Turning her face into his chest, she started crying, harsh sobs that tore at his heart.
Wrapping his arms around her, he held on, his expression bleak as he listened to her.
When she had finished, she curled into him, fingers grabbing his sweater.
For the first time in her life, she had broken down in front of someone.
And it was cleansing. The tears she had shed early this morning in bed had left her achy and weak.
This felt like the washing away of something toxic.
Closing her eyes, she allowed herself to relax and before long she had fallen asleep.
He knew from her even breathing that she was sleeping.
She was curled up against him like a lost child.
Feeling the anger churning inside him, he had to take several careful breaths to try and calm himself.
Her sobs had twisted him inside out. Knowing she was hurting and there was nothing he could do about it, made him so furious, he wanted to hit something.
Her tears had been gut wrenching. He had heard the despair and utter hopelessness. He wanted her to open up to him. He hadn't known her for long, but he wanted to know everything about her.
She was a puzzle he had to solve. She was clearly educated.
From the tone of her voice and the cadence, he could tell.
He also deduced that she was from Boston from her reaction when he had called the name of the city.
He could run a search on her. But he wanted her to tell him of her own free will. He desperately wanted her to trust him.
For the first time in his life he was faced with a situation, he had no way of knowing how to properly navigate. He was treading lightly, because he sensed from the very beginning that she had some trauma. What kind, he did not know.
Her clothing was discreetly expensive. And he had learned from the rental property that she had paid in cash.
And had paid up for a month. Which meant she had money.
He also realized she was running. It had crossed his mind that she might be wanted but had dismissed it almost immediately.
He had also wondered fleetingly if she was a battered wife running from an abusive spouse.
The thought had stayed with him and twisted him inside out.
There was no ring on her finger and not even a ring mark.
He had checked discreetly, because the idea of her being married was something he could not stand.
But something was making her unhappy. Something had her in such acute misery, she had broken down in tears. He had to know what it was. He was going to respect her privacy and wait for her to open up to him.
And if she didn't? The question hammered at him. Then he was going to take matters into his own hands and ask her outright.
She stirred against him, murmuring in her sleep. Brushing a kiss on her forehead, he waited for her to settle. He was in love with her. In love with a woman he did not know. It was ridiculous, but he could not stop it, not even if he wanted to. It was out of his control.
He wondered what dreams she was having now, if they offered her comfort, or if the shadows chased her even here.
He wanted, more than anything, to be the anchor she needed, to be the safe haven she could trust. As she slept, he promised himself that he would be patient, that he would wait as long as it took for her to let him in.
Her eyes drifted open slowly and for a few seconds, she had no idea where she was. Or what she was doing crushed against a solid chest.
Memories came flooding back. Lifting her head, her gaze connected with a pair of emerald green eyes, the lazy awareness in them sending a jolt straight through her body. She was practically on top of him.
Mortification flooded through her body as she recalled how she had soaked his sweater with her tears and fallen asleep in his arms.
"Hi." He lifted a hand to brush her cheek gently. "Better?"
"Yes." She cleared her throat and tried to move. "I apologize."
"No need." His fingers wandered down to her nose where he toyed with the tiny nose ring glinting there. "I like this."
"Thanks. Look." She cleared her throat again and had no idea how to phrase what she wanted to say. "I should get up."
"Why?" His fingers were still trailing over her skin.
"Because." She tried to shift, but he held her against him. "This is inappropriate."
His thick brows lifted, and a smile actually curved his lips. "Why is that?"
"I don't usually cry my eyes out like that. At least in front of someone I just met."
"We're practically best friends." He loved the fact that she was nervous and flustered. "And we met more than a week ago."
"You know what I mean." She muttered. His touch on her face was making her hot. And she was aware of the solid length of his body. Much too aware.
Tilting her chin up, he traced the dent slowly. "I don't. Any headaches?"
There was genuine concern in his deep voice, and she had to acknowledge to herself that it did something to her insides to have him looking at her like that. No one had ever done so before.
"No. Kenneth."
"I love how you say my name."
"Please stop."
"Why should I?" he murmured. The heat was spiraling inside his chest and going through the rest of his body.
He had not planned on getting physical. As a matter of fact, he had told himself before he fell asleep that he would leave her alone for now.
She was going through a lot and the last thing she needed was for him to be hitting on her.
But feeling her slender curves against him had cut into his willpower.
He was not strong enough to resist her. He could not just get up and walk away. He had to taste her.
She must have realized what was going through his head and read the intention on his face, because she started to struggle.
"Don't."
"I have to." Sliding down a little, he brought his face close to hers, his mouth just a breath away.
She was caught up in the sensuality, the heat and the sweet and heady scent of his breath brushing on her lips.
Telling herself that this was not a good idea was not working one bit.
When he brushed his lips on hers, she trembled.
Heat and need exploded inside her and made her want more.
She gripped a handful of his sweater in her hand and lifted her head.
His eyes darkened as he felt her resistance ebbing away.
His hand tightened around her waist as he leaned into the kiss.
Her soft breath whispered against his lips.
Cupping the back of her head, he parted her lips with his tongue and captured her soft moan.
His body hardened, his heart beating so fast, he could hear it drowning out everything else.
Sensations floated through him as she returned his kiss.
He wanted more. As his tongue drifted into her mouth, the taste of her was making him faint.
Forcing himself to slow down, he gentled the kiss.
He did not want to frighten her or turn her away.
Hours before, she had been wracked by despair.
He wanted to show her hope and love. Whatever it was that was haunting her, he wanted to erase it.
She tasted like honey and felt just right in his arms.
She fitted him like a glove. A groan escaped him as he shifted so that she was beneath him. He had to make love to her. This was never going to be enough. His body pressed down on hers. Using his hands, he framed her face, his mouth moving on hers with a gentleness that made her want to cry.
Lifting her hands, she wrapped them around his neck, her fingers buried in the denseness of his hair.
Her body arched, seeking his warmth. She silenced the voice that was telling her to stop.
The need in her was too great and she wanted this.
He was a comfort to her. And she did not want him to stop.
When he lifted his head and ended the kiss, she was left bereft.
And knew she was going to say yes.