“Can...can I stay with you tonight?”
She felt her cheeks start to burn with embarrassment. Why had she just asked him that? Was she out of her mind? Where had that come from anyhow?
His eyes widened, then narrowed as if he were trying to decide how to respond. Freya's breath hitched, her heart pounding in anticipation of his response.
“Freya, you can do anything you'd like,” he finally told her, a slight smile coming to his face.
“Are you...are you sure?” She asked nervously.
Why did she feel so embarrassed over this? Hadn't he expressed that he liked her?
“Honestly, I'd prefer you here with me,” he told her.
Kissing her lightly on the cheek, he looked back at her and smiled slightly. Suddenly, all her apprehension and fear disappeared.
Gently steering her back toward his bed, he got her situated on his king-sized bed. Once he got her settled, he moved around to his side and clicked off the light. The room was plunged into darkness. She could feel the weight of his body from beside her.
For a moment, she began second-guessing herself about how much she trusted him. He was a man after all. What if he decided he wanted more? She suddenly began to panic. She couldn't handle that right now. She had only wanted to sleep beside him, not anything else. What if he had misinterpreted what she had meant?
“Come here,” he murmured in the dark, his voice deep and low.
Now Freya was beginning to panic. Oh, he had misinterpreted the situation. Her breathing became rapid, her heart feeling like it was beating through her chest.
He gave a short, bitter laugh.
“You still don't trust me completely, do you? You've got to know after all that's happened, I'd never do anything that you weren't okay with.”
“I...I do trust you,” she finally told him, mind still rolling. “I just...I don't even know what I mean to you...I...”
“Come here,” he insisted again.
She slowly slid over to his side of the massive bed until she felt his large body next to hers. His hands found her shoulders and began kneading the tense muscles gently. She almost let out a moan at how wonderful his hands felt. She hadn't realized how much tension she held.
“All you need to know is that you mean a lot to me, and I'm not going to let anything happen to you,” he told her in a husky voice.
“Okay,” she murmured, but she was already starting to get drowsy. James seemed only like a faraway threat now, not something so immediate.
A few moments later, she had fallen fast asleep in Brian's arms.
5:35 AM
Brian stared at the digital clock on his nightstand. He had been having a hard time sleeping, most likely because of the body that was currently cuddled up next to his side. He had never really been the type to actually sleep with a woman. Fuck maybe, not necessarily sleep. Usually, he was long gone before any sleeping got done. So why was he changing so much now?
He had wanted a change when he had left for the summer. He had wanted to make Freya a part of that change. But he hadn’t exactly been prepared for the extra baggage that she came with. Not like he didn’t have a lot of baggage of his own. He had a lot coming from being in the Army and even more when you counted the many various women he had been with. Brian couldn’t help thinking that he didn’t deserve a woman like Freya, even with her scars (both externally and internally).
He had never felt anything for a woman before except for lust. But for whatever reason, lying here with her just felt right somehow. He had told her that he cared about her, but was this something more? He had never said “I love you” to anyone except immediate family. He had never even come close to being that involved with another woman.
Brian stared down at Freya, her dark hair splayed across a pillow. She was finally peacefully asleep. He couldn't resist running his hand down the soft skin of her arm. He imagined what other parts of her body might feel like: the softness of her breasts, the firmness of her ass, the wetness of her aroused pussy. Shit, he was starting to get hard again just thinking about her aroused and wanton. And she was technically naked underneath his over-sized t-shirt and sweatpants.
Damn, damn, damn. You are a dumb shit, he told himself. She was brutally raped, and you're thinking about that kind of stuff.
He suddenly felt guilty. She had been through so much both physically and mentally. Her scars made his blood crawl, especially the one on her back. And her fucking attacker was still on the loose, terrorizing her still. Brian couldn't even imagine how strong she had to be to deal with what she had been through—what she was still going through. Yeah, he had been a Ranger, and he hadn't come out of it without scars. But what Freya was going through seemed different, more agonizing. She had been tortured for days—nothing he had gone through had come close to that.
Then the thought hit him: Would she ever even want to be intimate again?
It was a thought that had crossed his mind more than once after she had confided in him the night of the tornado. And it had been bothering him as of late, especially since the previous women he had dated were pretty much physical relationships.
Then another thought hit him: Would he be okay in a relationship with her without that kind of intimacy?
He shifted at that uncomfortable thought. A lot of men wouldn't bother with even trying to make things work with Freya. Despite being gorgeous, she had a lot to deal with and that meant that the man in her life also had a lot to deal with.
He sighed and gently laid a kiss on her forehead. She murmured slightly in her sleep and snuggled in closer. She looked so peaceful, so beautiful. The sight, even in the dim light of the early morning, was spectacular. It occurred to him that she may be the most beautiful, sweetest woman he had ever known.
Damn, he realized.
He wanted to make this work, if she'd let him, that was.
Brian was lost in his thoughts when he suddenly heard a noise from downstairs.
BAM. BAM. BAM.
He sat up in his bed with a start. Freya did the same, her eyes wide.
“What's wrong?” She asked, trying to blink the sleep out of her eyes. She looked frightened.
“Dunno,” Brian said, getting up from the bed. He reached toward his nightstand, pulled open the drawer, and got out his 9mm Smith and Wesson M&P.
BAM. BAM. BAM.
“Sounds like someone's just knocking on the door,” he told her, though he was suspicious as hell at who it could be that early in the morning. “I'll go check it out. Stay here.”
Freya's eyes widened when she caught a glimpse at the gun. “You don't think it's...James, do you?”
“No. But stay here.”
He didn't want to panic her.
Currently in warrior mode, Brian tugged on a pair of jeans that he had flung on the floor, not bothering with a shirt. With the gun in hand, he made his way out of his bedroom and downstairs. His suspicions were right: It was the front door that someone was pounding on. The question was: Who?
Gun in hand, Brian peaked through the peephole on the front door. He let out a hiss of air when he realized who it was. Standing by his front door looking anxious and pissed was Joe Morgan.
Fuck, Brian thought.
He hadn't realized that Joe would be coming so early. The man probably had a freak-out when he saw the flattened guesthouse. Quickly setting his handgun in a table drawer next to the door, he opened the door and prepared for the worst.
Barging in the entryway, Joe Morgan demanded, “Where is she?”
He looked tired but determined. Wearing a suit that was starting to wrinkle, it looked as if he had just driven straight from work in New York—overnight.
“She's upstairs, trying to sleep,” Brian said as calmly as he could. “She's fine. Like I tried to explain to you yesterday, she wasn't in the guesthouse when it was leveled.”
“Well, I didn't realize that it was that bad...” Joe began to trail off, relief showing in his voice.
Suddenly, his mood
seemed to shift from relieved to angry as he slowly studied Brian—or more like his lack of a shirt.
“Is there something you need to tell me about you and Freya?”
Brian swallowed a lump in his throat. With all the time he had spent with Freya, Joe had begun to seem like a distant issue. He should have realized that he would have to face his friend, mentor, and employer at some point. And shit did this look bad. Plus, Joe knew a lot more about his past than Freya did.
“Look, Joe...” Brian started, but he was cut off by the older man.
“Are you sleeping with her?” Joe demanded.
The man was pissed.
Brian's mouth went dry. Fucking, no. Sleeping with, yes. But how was he going to explain that before Joe tried to castrate him? Before he could answer, there was an angry, feminine voice from behind him.
“DAD!” Freya exclaimed from the steps.
She had somehow quietly gotten up from his bedroom and hobbled down the stairs. She was still wearing the same pair of t-shirt and sweats that he had lent her. Brian had thought that, despite how the clothing swallowed her body up, she looked sexy in them. However, right now, she just looked pissed.
“Freya...” Joe said, almost taken aback by the fact that she had raised her voice. Brian couldn't remember her ever raising her voice.
“How dare you ask him a question like that,” she said, her voice quavering. “After everything he's done to help me...He...he saved my life!”
Brian's breath caught. He hadn't expected her to stick up for him. She had enough on her mind; she didn't need to try and help him.
Joe looked at his daughter, his expression indecipherable. He looked back at Brian. He looked at Freya again.
Then he said, “Freya...I'm...sorry...I shouldn't have accused Brian of anything inappropriate.”
Her face softened a little bit. She didn't look angry anymore. Instead, she looked panicked. Brian could understand why. She was caught between her loyalty toward her father and whatever she felt toward himself.
Instead of more yelling between either of them, Joe crossed the room and hugged his daughter. She seemed to just melt in his arms, her long hair falling every which way down her back.
Brian could hear Joe murmur, “I'm sorry,” and Freya whispered something inaudible.
For a moment, Brian felt out of place watching father and daughter reconnect.
When the hug ended, Freya and Joe turned toward him.
“Brian, look I'm sorry...” Joe started to apologize.
Cutting him off before he could continue, Brian told him, “Don't worry about it. I know you're just protecting your daughter. Any father would do the same.”
Joe nodded, looking at Freya.
“I know, but still. I shouldn't have assumed...”
He paused, staring down at her scarred wrists. He blinked a couple of times as if trying to figure out something.
Finally, his eyes widened, and he said, “Sweetheart, your wrists are...”
“He knows,” she said softly before he could finish.
Her father must have realized that she had her wrists uncovered in front of Brian and made the connection. Joe looked up suddenly to Brian and then back to Freya.
Finally, Joe told him, “She must trust you...to be able to share...her ordeal. She's never been able to open up to anyone besides me and her therapist.”
Brian thought back to the image of Freya snuggling against him in bed. She did trust him, he realized. And he was damned happy about that fact.
“Here, let's go into the kitchen and get Freya off of her foot,” Brian offered. “I'll make breakfast, and we'll fill you in on the storm.”
“What's wrong with her foot?” Joe demanded.
And so, it went.
Brian made breakfast—after he had put on a shirt and discretely secured his handgun—while Freya sat with her father on the bar stools that lined the kitchen-counter top and filled her father in on everything that had happened since he'd initially dropped her off.
Well, she didn't exactly fill her father in on everything. There were some parts that she excluded. One was the fact that Brian had put the moves on her before the storm. She gave the PG version instead and told her father that they had been spending time together as friends, of course. When she told him about the night of the tornado, she neglected to mention the fact that he had kissed her and held her throughout the storm. When she discussed what happened after the storm, she didn't tell him about sleeping next to him.
Interesting.
She either didn't want her father having a shit over the fact that they were starting to get close based on how he had reacted earlier, or she was ashamed to admit that she was at least somewhat romantically involved with a man who had quite frankly been a player for many, many years. Brian wasn't quite sure what he thought about the whole matter. He couldn't blame Freya for not saying anything to her father. He hadn't promised her anything. And she certainly didn't owe him anything.
He sighed, as he served a generous portion of blueberry pancakes with sausages. Regardless of what was going on between him and Freya, he was pleased to see the shock on her father's face when she gobbled down her breakfast.
7:31 AM
James crawled through a row of bushes on his stomach, his heart beating fast. In front of him was a large, rustic mountain home that had probably seen better days. Its roof was torn up, and there was a structure beside it that was crushed by fallen trees. But regardless of the house's condition, he knew that he had just hit gold.
Yes, this is the place where he's keeping her, he thought happily.
He had placed a GPS tracker on Joe Morgan's car once he had hacked through New York's DMV system and realized where it was being kept. Then, it had been a waiting game until Joe had finally used his car. James had followed him from there down from New York to the North Carolina mountains. As soon as Joe Morgan had pulled into the long, winding mountainous drive, James had known this was where Freya was being kept. He had parked his car alongside the road and cautiously walked up the drive, using the dense tree-cover and foliage as camouflage.
Now, he watched the house closely. Joe Morgan was in there, plus Freya and whoever the homeowner was (James would find this out very quickly once he got himself together). All it would take was a few preparations, and he could have Freya by at least tomorrow night if not earlier. Depending on who was with her, he may have to arm himself a little better, but she was in his grasp at this point.
There was a muffled sound of a beep. It was James's pre-paid cellphone, and only one man had the number.
“Damn it. I'm in the middle of something here,” James answered in a hushed voice.
“You need to get back to Charlotte NOW,” the voice at the other end of the line told him.
“I know where she is,” James told the man. “I don't have time for your shit right now.”
There was a pause at the end of the line. Then the man said, “If you don't get your ass down here right now, we're both going to be uncovered. She can wait.”
James wiggled back out of the bushes, so he wasn't as noticeable from the house. He was beyond pissed, but discovery would mean the end of all his fun.
“What do you mean, ‘We're both going to be uncovered?’” James demanded.
“I've got a detective and an assistant DA snooping around where they shouldn't be. They met with your old Landlord, Wiggins, and asked some questions. He was smart enough to keep his mouth shut and called me with the details. I need you down here now to deal with the problem.”
James opened his mouth, wanting to say a few choice words. But he held his tongue.
Don't bite the hand that feeds you, he told himself.
Instead of arguing, James asked, “What do you need me to do?”
“Scare the assistant DA a bit,” the man told him. “Not enough to hurt or kill her. Just enough to push her off the case.”
“Her?” James asked, suddenly more interested.
“Yes, �
�her.’ Now get your ass down to Charlotte NOW.”
There was a brief pause before James decided to answer.
“Give me the address,” he said with a smile.
He wasn't exactly happy with the demand, but what was a few more days to have Freya without issue? Plus, he wouldn't mind inflicting his will on another woman for a while. It looked like Freya wasn't going anywhere for a while anyhow.
Smiling, James started back toward his car, suddenly happy with the turn of events.
4:30 PM
Brian was nervous when he pulled up to the house in his Audi Q7. After dealing with the insurance adjusters and then leaving Freya and Joe to spend some quality father-daughter time, he was worried about the little shopping trip he had just been on. He had agreed to buy Freya some clothing as well as more groceries while Freya and her father caught up. The groceries had been the easy part. Buying clothes for Freya had been a little more difficult.
After getting her size, which Brian thought was still too small for a woman her height, he had gone to a few clothing stores in town that hadn't been affected by the storm. What he had bought for her made him nervous. What if she didn't like the clothes?
He started innocently enough with pairs of jeans, sensible tops, socks, and comfortable shoes like athletic shoes. He wasn't that great when it came to women's fashion, but the saleswoman had been and had steered him toward all the right places. Suddenly, he started adding cute dresses, tops, anything that he thought would look good on her. The saleswoman was more than happy to pick things out for him.
Then there had been the underwear. Oh yes, she needed underwear. And he had been awful when purchasing them. He felt like a complete bastard. He had even explained to the saleswoman that his “girlfriend” had “lost all of her belongings” in the storm. It was a half-truth. Freya wasn't technically his girlfriend, but she had lost all the belongings.
However, there was a devious part of him that wanted her to have sexy underwear. So, he continued the lie to the point that he had purchased her pairs of underwear in every color and style. Nothing was off-limits: black, red, lace, silk, anything really. And he was even a bastard enough to throw a thong into the mix. Then there were the silky nightgowns he had purchased. Yeah, he was going to hell.
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