Chapter 23
CATRIONA
Aiden’s weight pressing me into the mattress should make me struggle for freedom, but it anchors me to the moment when my head is as light as a balloon, threatening to drift right off my shoulders.
He reaches the bedside table, his fingers moving as quick as lightning on the screen of his phone.
Not even a minute later, he puts it back on the table, and his hands land on either side of my shoulders, his wide frame blotting out the rest of the world.
Somehow, my palms find their way to his chest, and all I can do is touch him.
Give in to the impulse because I don’t know if I’ll get another chance.
The smart thing to do would be to get away from him as quickly as possible.
But I can’t.
Not after seeing the raw panic on his face at the realization that his mother had been harmed.
Dammit.
Anything else I could have guarded myself against.
But not that.
He’s studying me, shifting to balance on one palm as the fingertips of the other drift over my skin, memorizing. The heaven of his touch on me lulls me into a false sense of security, if only for a moment. I take in his attention greedily, sucking it down like its marrow.
When I speak, it’s with a rasp. “We should probably, um—” Caught at a loss for words, my comment trails off.
I don’t know what the fuck we should be doing.
An angel and a devil are on my shoulder arguing.
I should push him away. I should pull him closer.
I fought him for so long because I knew the moment I let him touch me, have me, I’d be lost again.
Isn’t that why I ran from his bed? Why I refused to give him my name?
He lists to the side, taking me with him, and I end up half draped over his body. God, it would be easier if he didn’t smell so good, like sex and man and damp forest. I shake with the amount of restraint it takes to keep from smelling him all over.
One of his wide palms is low on my back. The other reaches across to nab under my knee and pull me more fully against him. We stay that way for a few long minutes, not talking. But I swear it feels like we understand each other more now without words than we ever have before.
Finally, he breaks the silence. “They’re not watching now. He wants us to meet them back in the office in a half hour.”
“Ho-how do you know they’re not watching?”
“He got what he wanted,” he says simply. “C’mon. Let me get you cleaned up.”
What feels like a moment later, we’re naked in the shower.
Aiden lathers his hands with soap from a dispenser and drags them over my sensitive skin.
It’s…comforting. Not a word I ever thought I’d use to describe him.
He’d done this before, after Mr. Broussard was shot. He’s not…caring for me. Is he?
Yasmine is the only other person in my life who I’d go to for any kind of comfort.
And even then, I try to keep it to a minimum.
She has her own stresses with medical school, and I would never want to take advantage of her.
Even Mom hadn’t done this sort of thing for me.
At least not since I was very young. His blatant concern over the past few hours makes me tender with fragility.
Like I’m made of glass and covered in spiderwebs of cracks.
One rough touch and he could shatter me.
Water spills over my hair, washing away the sweat coating my skin and the evidence of him between my thighs.
Fuck, we forgot to wear a condom. How could I have been so fucking stupid?
I have an IUD, but we’ve never had that conversation.
I never thought it would be a necessity.
Sleeping with him again had never made it to my to-do list.
So much for those plans.
All it took was the look in his eyes, the resignation pulling his face taut, for me to realize he was willing to lose his mother to keep from having me exposed.
There’s more to it than that, I’m sure. There are mafia politics at play here that I don’t fully understand, but it’s how I feel.
Despite the threat to the most important person in his life, he wasn’t going to make me do it.
Why would he do that? It doesn’t make sense to me. I want to ask him, but I can’t seem to make myself move from underneath the spray. I’m frozen in place, weighed down by all the questions and fears battling inside me for dominance.
I keep my eyes squeezed shut, unable to chance looking at him.
Afraid the loose emotions tonight will give him too much that I want to keep close to the vest. These past few weeks here have been easy.
Maybe too easy. It took practically no effort at all for me to lull myself into a false sense of security.
Needless to say, any sense of security in this situation is completely shattered now.
I’d known Cian was a formidable enemy, but I hadn’t realized how formidable.
He has Aiden by the throat, using his mother as leverage.
Anything Aiden does that Cian doesn’t like, and his mother will be the one to pay the price.
Tears sting my sinuses, and I breathe in the hot, humid air to keep them at bay.
This has been his life since he was a teenager?
I can hardly fathom it, and mine hasn’t exactly been a picnic.
It was easier to push what Mara had said to the back of my mind.
I had to in order to keep Aiden at a distance.
To keep my hatred for him flaming hot. The thought of what Cian could have done to him throughout the years, of what Aiden would have been like if Cian hadn’t killed his father, has me turning until the spray hits my back.
I find Aiden standing across from me, blond hair dark and sleek and slicked back from his face.
The inky swirls of his tattoos contrast against the white shower tile, making them stand out in stark relief against his tanned skin.
He holds his hands loose at his sides now, his expression unreadable.
“What happens now?”
“Now, we do as he asks. Then I’ll take you home. Next week, we go to Ireland.”
“What about your mother?”
“What about her?”
“Is she…do we know if she’ll be okay?”
He tugs me to him, and I let him arrange me against his chest as he blocks the spray.
“Like I said, he won’t hurt her anymore unless I’m there to watch.
” I don’t know how I can tell, but I can hear in his voice that he doesn’t fully believe what he’s saying.
But he says it anyway because otherwise, wouldn’t the thought of being unable to protect her drive him a little insane?
I’m the first to move when all he does is hold me.
After I wrap up in a towel, I realize he hasn’t moved, so I turn off the water and pass him a towel.
It finally spurs him into movement, and we both dress quickly after that.
Me, with trepidation because now the dress that had reminded me so much of that night is thoroughly tainted.
All I want to do is burn it and then sleep for a century.
When he’s back in his suit, I nod, then head for the door.
His voice stops me. “I won’t let him do this to you again.” I look over my shoulder, my thoughts half on what’s waiting for us. The indecision and confusion must be apparent because he continues. “I won’t.”
“There are some things even you can’t control,” I say.
He reaches for me, hands bracketing my jaw, lifting it. He stamps a brutal, punishing kiss on my tender lips. “Don’t tell me you’re afraid now, bhean chéile. You were doing so well.”
“Don’t be a jerk.”
“He’ll try to get a rise out of you. Don’t let him. It’ll only make it worse. Stay by me. I’ll take care of you.” He starts for the door, but I stop him.
“I can handle him. I just don’t want him to hurt you.”
“Worried about me?” he says it like it’s the furthest thing from reality. But the truth of it cuts me to the core.
I don’t know why I’m trying to console him, but as I stare at the man standing across from me, I realize I have two choices.
I can keep fighting this marriage—fighting him—with everything I’ve got.
I can keep focusing on school and tracking down Mom’s leads.
I can ignore him at home when we cross paths.
My second choice is that I can stop fighting myself.
I’ve wanted Aiden since the moment I met him.
No matter what’s happened since then. No matter what he’s done, I can’t seem to stop wanting him.
I’m tired of fighting this battle on all fronts by myself.
The thought of having someone like Aiden in my corner.
..it feels a lot like hope that I won’t have to be alone.
Something I’ve desperately been missing since my mother died.
Someone to have my back.
Tonight felt like the first time we were united against our opposition, and as fucked up as it was, it felt good. Knowing I could do something so important for him. Knowing how much he’d sacrifice for me.
Making my choice, I take a step toward him, and his gaze grows more intense with each step I take.
“Yes, Aiden.” I rest my hands on his chest as I tilt my head up to look at him.
His eyes are practically mercury as he realizes I’m not calling him by his last name for the first time in a long time. “I don’t want him to hurt you.”
“There is nothing to worry about. If something happens to me, you’re taken care of. You know that.”
I step closer, our sensitized bodies brushing together. “This has nothing to do with your fucking money, and you know it.”
He moves so fast, I barely finish my sentence before I’m pressed against the wall, hands fisting my arms against the glass, back and ass pressed against the freezing surface. “Tell me exactly what you mean, pet. I don’t want to misconstrue our conversation.”
I hiss at the intensity of his stare, resulting in a wash of gooseflesh dimpling me from head to toe. “I’m saying if you get yourself killed, I’m going to raise you from the dead and kill you myself.” I swallow hard, hoping I’m not making a colossal mistake.
He kisses me softly, languidly. Like we didn’t just go through hell. Like we aren’t two fucked-up, horrible people willing to go to devious ends to protect the people we love. When he pulls away, his hands are buried in my hair, and we’re pressed together from chest to thigh.
“Do you trust me?” he asks, and I nearly choke.
“I don’t know if I’d go that far.”
“I’m going to need you to try, just a little.”
“You’re scaring me.”
“I know, but you’re doing so well. Be brave for me a little longer. Okay?”
“Okay.”
“Let’s go,” he says, just as softly as his kiss.