Sheltered

by Jen Colly

  “No,” Rollin said, a lump suddenly in his throat. “He did not live.”

  Gian’s gaze flew to his brother. “Mom?”

  Dyre stood, took his brother’s hand in his, a strange smile on his face. “She stood at your side, through the surgery and until you woke. When we were sure you’d live, I made her rest. She didn’t follow him into death, Gian. She’s in the next room.”

  “I thought they were fated mates?” Gian rasped. “The unbreakable bond.”

  Dyre paused in the open doorway, his hand on the frame, and he nodded. “I almost lost her. When she found out he’d died… If she had slipped out of my hold, she would have been gone. But when she found out what he did to you… She never knew. Gian, whatever bond they had, I saw it break. Completely severed.”

  Rollin was quiet and withdrawn as he watched the brothers. The relief they shared in the moment was tangible.

  “We should have told her sooner,” Gian said.

  “No. We hid what that man did to us for so long, she wouldn’t have been able to see the truth.” Dyre shook his head sadly. “Regret nothing, my brother, and do not add to her pain by telling her now.”

  Gian nodded. “Can I see her?”

  “I’ll wake her now.”

  As Dyre left the room to retrieve his mother, Rollin sat in stunned silence. His family was a patchwork mess, but this? Rollin couldn’t understand fighting for survival inside your own family, had never had to consider Cat wouldn’t believe him, back him. Gian’s plight was a stark reminder that what lay on the surface was not the full depth of the situation.

  The door eased open, and an unexpected face poked through. Jovan. “Hey, you up for visitors?”

  Gian’s eyebrows pressed together, seemingly equally surprised by his appearance, but he quickly recovered, and said, “Yeah, I’m…good. Really good.”

  “About damn time,” Jovan said as he breezed in, kicking the door shut behind him. Unapologetic in everything he did, Jovan walked right up to the bed, pulled a can of beer from his pocket, cracked it open and passed it to Gian. Then opened his own and lifted it. “To never having to kick your ass again.”

  “I like the sound of that,” Gian said, and though he winced before the can even touch his lips, he drank to the toast.

  Suddenly remembering they were not alone in the room, Gian glanced over at him. Rollin tried to wave off the question he knew was coming, to save Gian the effort, and him the awkward intrusion into their private moment, but Gian was already speaking. “Got one for Rollin?”

  “I only have two pockets.” Jovan demonstrated the fact by showing Rollin his right side, then turning to the left for inspection.

  “I would have only passed on the offer,” Rollin said, then to Gian, “But I appreciate the gesture.”

  “See? He wouldn’t take one anyway,” Jovan said, sending him a mock salute, then turned his back on him and carried on his conversation with Gian.

  Two things he’d just discovered rocked his longstanding way of thinking. The first? Jovan had known. He’d helped Gian hide the bruises and had given him an outlet to keep his anger in check. For Jovan to have this kind of insight, to go to such lengths for a friend, was something Rollin had a hard time wrapping his head around. Jovan only cared about warfare and Maeryn, in that order, or so he thought. Apparently he’d been mistaken. Perhaps Jovan had more of a Guardian’s heart than he’d given him credit for.

  The second discovery shook his foundation even harder. If the bond of true mates was breakable, then how tragically important was it to wait for that urgent pull of a fated mate?

  He could wait a long and lonely eternity to feel that undeniable pull. Why doom himself to such a bleak existence when the only woman to ever see him for the man he was waited within his home?

  Chapter 18

  Balinese

  Bette shot upright, gripping the covers tight to her chest. She listened intently for what she’d heard a moment ago, but there was no sound beyond her shaky breath. An unexpected scent surrounded her, interrupting her stream of frantic thoughts. She brought the comforter to her nose and breathed deep. It smelled like… Rollin.

  Bette flopped back onto the bed. She was still in his home. Safe. The relief was overwhelming. It didn’t matter what she’d heard. Rollin wouldn’t allow her to be harmed.

  A soft snore came from the other room. Rollin was again sleeping on the couch. She didn’t think twice. Tiptoeing from the bedroom, Bette approached the couch. He was sprawled out on his back, one hand on his stomach and his other arm curled over his head. His left leg was bent, resting against the back of the couch. She’d disrupted his life, lied to him, taken over his home, and displaced him to the cramped space of his couch. He’d endured such discomfort for her attempt at self-preservation.

  Reaching out, she lightly touched his knee. Rollin lifted his head, and with a sleepy, rumbling voice, he asked, “You okay?”

  He rubbed his chest, waiting for her to answer, and she truly didn’t know what to say. She was fine, but then, she wasn’t. Bette touched him again, and he shifted, lowered his knee. Since he wouldn’t come to bed, she would have to join him. Crawling over him, she wedged herself between his side and the back of the couch.

  Head on his shoulder, her arm wrapped around his middle, she held him tight. Rollin looked down at her, and for a moment she thought he might ask her to leave, but then he reached back and pulled the blanket off the back of the couch to settle it over her.

  After several moments of silence in the darkness, Rollin asked, “You denied Navarre’s offer? You could have had a home of your own. Spending money.”

  “I asked if he would reimburse you for the gowns you bought me instead.” He drew in a deep breath, his chest expanding against her, but she patted his chest and clarified. “I now understand why you assumed I would require such extravagance, but I promise you, I do not. But as you’ve already purchased the gowns, I’m keeping them.”

  “I can afford the gowns,” he grumbled.

  “I believe you,” she said, smoothing his shirt over his chest. “But I didn’t like money hanging between us.”

  “You still should have accepted his offer.”

  “No. I don’t think I could.” Her fingers curled into his T-shirt, and she pressed her face against his shoulder, whispering, “I don’t think I can be alone.”

  “Yeah,” he said, his hand finding hers on his chest. “I get that.”

  “If you want me to leave—”

  “No,” Rollin said. “I don’t want you to leave.”

  Neither spoke for a while, but when Rollin’s breathing began to even and slow, she whispered, “Can I ask you a question?”

  “Can’t think of any reason you couldn’t,” he said, his sleepy words slurring together.

  “What do you want out of life?” Thankful she didn’t have to look him in the eye, she squeezed his hand and specified. “That one thing you’d do anything to achieve?”

  He chuckled against her side.

  “Why is that funny?”

  “No one’s ever asked me something like that before.”

  She said softly, “You don’t have to answer.”

  “No, I do, because I know what I want.” Rollin hugged her closer, his arm heavy in this sleepy state. “I have some obstacles, like my age and social standing, but one day I’d like to make captain.”

  “A lofty goal,” she said.

  Rollin drew in a long, deep breath. “I know.”

  “Your lord would be foolish not to consider you.”

  “I doubt it would ever come to that point. The position is filled by Soren at the moment, and should Savard return to Balinese, the honor would return to him without question.” He was silent for a moment, then asked, “What makes you think I could be captain?”

  Oh, this man. What held him back? Or who? Why did he d
oubt himself? “Rollin, what makes you think you can’t?”

  He was silent, his thoughts turned deeply inward. With his arm around her, his body heat warming her, and the steady rise and fall of his chest lulling, she feared she might fall asleep before he answered.

  His arm tensing around her, Rollin shared his secret in a low whisper, “What if I can’t protect them all?”

  “You won’t.” Bette pushed up to look down at him, to look him in the eye. A flicker of surprise crossed his face, but she continued. “It’s not possible, and you well know it. Why put that on yourself?”

  “It’s always on me. I need to save them all.”

  Bette pressed her forehead to his, hating the desperation and pain she heard in his voice. “You can’t. People walk into the sun, fight for their city and proudly die on their sword, follow their mates into death. Rollin, they don’t all want to be saved.” With a hand on his lightly whiskered cheek, she whispered, “That you want to protect them all, every single one, is exactly why you will be a great captain.”

  Rollin lifted his chin, his lips settling sweetly over hers. She hadn’t expected his kiss, or the gentleness in his touch as his fingers brushed her hair back and he cradled her head.

  His lips lingered on hers, sweet and tender, and when he pulled away, they still touched a moment before he claimed her mouth in a deliberately slow and teasing kiss.

  This was vastly different from the frenzied, passionate kiss they’d shared before. Rollin was different. His kiss and touch were somehow more intimate. Knowing. Loving. And his tender attention stoked a fire in her faster than she could have imagined possible. Meeting his kiss with an ardor of her own, Bette became lost in the moment, lost in him.

  “You said you want me. Are you sure?” he asked, but then kissed her again before she could answer.

  “Very,” she said against his lips, but that he still doubted her made her want to prove her words.

  Skimming her hand over his ribs, she inched closer to his waist, but the second her hand crossed the waistband of his pants Rollin flipped her beneath him with a growl. For a split second, she thought she’d upset him, but his tenderness remained.

  “No,” he said, the single word slipping out on a ragged breath. She lay on her back looking up at him, perplexed to find he’d pinned her arms over her head. “You’ve been touching and teasing me since you first landed in my arms.”

  She smiled. “Are you saying you want a turn?”

  “I’m having my turn. Right now.” He captured her lips, plied her with slow, scintillating kisses, making it clear that he’d taken over.

  He hovered above her, elbows braced beside her head, his broad shoulders obliterating anything else from her view. Not that her gaze was wandering. When the impulse to open her eyes would occur between deep, drugging kisses, she was riveted by the look of utter satisfaction she read clearly on his face. She liked watching his brow crease, but what made her stomach flip flop was when he’d pull back, and the corner of his lips curled in a subtle half smile before he returned his attentions to her lips.

  Oh, she could savor this man for hours…if he would just let go of her wrists. He shifted above her, and for a moment she thought he might at last release her, but he’d only changed his hold. One large hand encompassed both her wrists now while the other slowly stroked her arm from her wrist, past her elbow, and over her shoulder. What little barrier her satin nightshirt provided might as well have been nonexistent. She could feel the brush of his fingers, the heat of his palm as if she lay bare beneath him.

  That scalding touch of his moved slowly down her side, over her ribs, her waist, the wide expanse of his hand giving her the sensation of being small and delicate. His lips left hers as his hand skimmed over her hip. Rollin seemingly waited for something as he watched her intently. She lifted her head, wanting his lips back on hers, but he pulled back, out of reach.

  His hand moved again, the burning heat of his palm sliding deliciously down her thigh, but when he curled his fingers beneath her knee, he lifted her leg from beneath him, his hip dropping closer to her.

  “Rollin!” she gasped his name, trying to wiggle her hands free, but he was too strong.

  His mouth returned to hers, brushing first her upper lip, then lower, gently teasing until her lips parted enough for him to settle into a deep kiss. Bette was thoroughly intoxicated by his kiss, and hadn’t realized it was a diversion until his hand started roaming down her other arm. He’d switched hands holding her wrists, but this time he wasn’t willing to release her lips as his hand skimmed down her side and over her hip. Again, he took hold of her knee and pulled it from beneath his body, lifting her other leg. Bette whimpered against his mouth as his hips firmly settled between her thighs.

  “I want to touch you,” she pleaded.

  He smiled against her lips. “Not a chance.”

  Her arms might be trapped, but her legs were free. Wrapping one leg around his heavily muscled thigh, just under his buttocks, she squeezed him tightly against her, the motion sliding his body over hers.

  The delicious friction drew a long groan from deep within his chest. “Oh, hell, Bette. I’m trying to make this last for you.”

  “I don’t need you to last, my Guardian. I just need you.” She twisted one of her hands free, cupped the back of his head, and brought him back to her lips.

  He released her then, letting her hands rove free, but that wasn’t what surprised her the most. Rollin wrapped his arms around her, between her back and the couch, and locked her to him as his lips sealed over hers.

  Every brush of his fingers was reverent, every kiss deeply yearning. He made love to her as if…he loved her.

  * * * *

  A knock at the door jerked Rollin from sleep, but he couldn’t move. Bette was draped across his chest, pinning him to the small couch. He tried slipping away again, but she groaned in protest, clinging tightly to him.

  “Bette, someone’s at the door. I need to get up,” he whispered, waiting for her eyes to open. Her neck was awkwardly bent against his shoulder, her pretty eyebrows scrunched. “You can’t be comfortable.”

  “I’m not. Everything hurts,” she whimpered. “But I’m not letting you go.”

  “One minute!” he called toward the door. Bette smiled and snuggled closer. He laughed. “I have to answer the door.”

  When she still wouldn’t release him, Rollin opted for plan B. He abruptly sat, scooped her up, and carried her into the bedroom only to drop her on the bed. She squeaked, fearful of the fall until she realized he hadn’t dropped her very far.

  “Unkind,” she grumbled, reaching out to stuff a pillow beneath her head. “I thought you liked me.”

  “I do,” he admitted. Liking this woman was easy. She believed in him, in a way that no one else in his life had come close to reaching. Bette hadn’t just said he would make a great captain, she’d proclaimed in all sincerity that he would be captain. And the way she’d loved him… He couldn’t have hoped for anything more. “I’ll be right back.”

  He left her curled up on the bed and hurried to answer his door. Soren stood in the corridor, his gun holsters strapped to his shoulders. He was on duty. “Captain.”

  “I need a favor,” Soren said. “I know you wanted your schedule cleared, but after what happened with Gian, I need you.”

  Rollin nodded. He’d expected this. “When?”

  “An hour. Level one,” Soren said, but then he hesitated before dropping the bomb. “You’re with Tarmon. Even if I wanted to get someone else, I couldn’t.”

  Damn, this was not an ideal pairing for personal reasons. That being said, it was the right call. Tarmon lived down Gian’s corridor. “No, I understand. I’ll be ready.”

  Rollin closed the door, peeling off his shirt as he walked back to the bedroom. “I got called in.”

  Bette pushed herself up in the cent
er of his bed, her wild curls tumbling around her. For a moment he thought she might say something, even beg him to stay, but she didn’t say word.

  Why would she? Bette was a grown woman, and though she might feel disappointment and abandonment when he left, he was certain she would never voice her displeasure. It didn’t make walking out that door any easier.

  Rollin came to the edge of the bed and took her hand. “I don’t want to leave you, but with everything that’s happened with Gian we’re down two Guardians.” He bent slightly, brought her hand to his cheek, and kissed her inner wrist. “I’m sorry.”

  She squeezed his hand, and pulled herself up, standing on the bed before him. Taking his head in her hands, she met his eyes from her newfound height.

  “Do not apologize for doing the job you love.” Her lips brushed his lightly, then she wrapped her arms around his neck and whispered into his ear, “I’m not the only one who needs you.”

  Rollin shuddered at her words, and the heat of her lips against his ear. That she needed him tripped a number of triggers inside him, but he couldn’t focus on any of them with her body pressed against him and her lips teasing the edge of his ear. “We can’t start this now. I have to get in the shower.”

  She hugged him tighter, her lips leaving his to play across his jaw and down his neck. “So get in the shower,” she said against his throat, following his vein with nibbling kisses.

  Throwing his head back, allowing her unhindered access to his throat, Rollin groaned. A long, drawn-out rumble that began deep in his chest morphed into an all-out growl as he crushed Bette against him and carried her into the bathroom. Once she’d hinted at joining him in the shower, any other thoughts vanished.

  He’d never known a woman like Bette. She was worldly but curious, gentle and aggressive, sweet and sexual. Bette was everything all at once. Any man could pinpoint the things he wanted in a woman, but to find so many qualities and quirks he hadn’t known he could desire was soul shattering. In a good way. Fate had brought her to him and he wasn’t letting her go anytime soon.