by Vaughn, Ann
"Really?" she asked, climbing into bed and getting under the covers.
"I promised him it was just to sleep."
A sly smile spread across her face. "Oh, really?"
"It is. Now."
She laughed and he couldn't help but smile.
"Semantics, Commander."
"Tomato, tomahto," he got in bed and lay on his side facing her, folding his arms over his chest as he'd done the first two times they'd slept side-by-side. Lainey, however, wasn't having it. She scooted close to him and pulled on his arms so that she could snuggle into his chest. "You're killing me, bambina," he groaned.
"That's the plan," she said, smiling up at him.
"Imp," he said, kissing her brow.
Several quiet moments passed, then Lainey took a deep breath.
"You didn't want me to see your scars, did you?" she asked quietly.
He was quiet for so long she didn't think he was going to answer. Then she felt him take a deep breath and bend his head to kiss her forehead.
"I didn't want you to see them tonight. You will, soon. But for now, I didn't want them to spoil anything."
She pulled back from him so she could meet his gaze.
"Your scars are not going to bother me."
He lifted a hand to brush her hair back from her face, then captured a thick strand between his fingers.
"Some of my scars are really bad, I won't lie."
"I imagine they are...but the important thing is, they are just scars and you survived them. You survived them because you were not meant to die in that hovel in Mosul, Mike Casiano. From the minute our eyes met at the Founders Day Ball all those years ago, I believe you were meant to come back to me. I believe that's why my relationship with Kevin didn't work and I believe that's why you held yourself back from any other relationships."
"You could be right...I thought about you...a lot over the years," he confessed. "I remember every story Riley ever told about you. There were times when we were out on missions, that all we did was sit around and talk to keep our minds off of the things we'd seen and done. Riley talked about you and his brothers a lot. He read the letters you sent to him to us. We followed you through college and setting up your service with Kacee."
"What did you talk about?"
"I mainly listened to the others."
"Mike. Your family..."
"I talked about them some. Enough that everyone was familiar with the situation. But not often."
"Do you think you will ever be able to forgive Nick?"
"I don't blame him. Carolina is beautiful, and she is more suited to him than she ever was to me."
"But you still hold yourself back from them, as if you don't forgive them."
"I forgive them...I just don't forget. And then there was the whole fallout with my father about me joining the Navy with Riley. He never understood. He never let me fully explain. He latched onto the timing of it, right on the heels of Carolina breaking up with me to be with Nick. They all think I joined because of them. I tried to tell him that wasn't the reason; I had decided months prior to that. Carolina tried to tell them, too, because I'd told her, but they wanted to believe what they wanted to believe. Nothing I did or said could change their minds so I quit trying."
"That's just wrong."
"It is what it is."
"And then once you were in and you came home to visit? Why did you start pulling away?"
He took a deep breath. "We'd seen...so much devastation. So many children who were afraid to even step outside their front door. Children who were malnourished in Africa. Children who learned to shoot a gun before they could read or write in the Middle East. And then I'd come home and see my nephews and see how happy they were...and sometimes when I looked at them, all I could see were the haunted faces of the children I'd met in the war torn regions...it was hard to relate...so, I kept my distance."
"Mike," she whispered, touching his cheek.
"You see a lot when you're in the war zone. Things that are hard to forget. You learn to push it aside, push through it...but it's hard when it involves women and children...especially the children."
"That's why I work mainly with children. When we first started, we took on all sorts of cases, like I did with Charles. But then we found that working with children was more what we wanted to do. It's heartbreaking and heartwarming all at once."
"You did a great job with Cam."
She smiled. "Cam has been one of my easy cases. Since Riley stepped in, Cam is doing great. Which reminds me, that was why I came in here earlier. Cam had gotten a text from his dad that upset him. I texted Wade but he hasn't responded. When Charles called, I thought it was Kacee calling."
He cursed under his breath in Italian. "Got distracted. I was going to check in with your father and see what they found."
"I'm sure Riley handled it."
He nodded. "But it's my job."
"My father probably didn't think anything of Riley being the one calling. And obviously they didn't get him or else Riley would have let you know. Don't take so much on yourself; that's what the others are here for. You can't control everything."
He stroked his thumb over the apple of her cheek.
"Where you're concerned I can...get some sleep, cara mia," he said, "we have to leave early tomorrow."
"Will you sleep?"
"I'll try," he said, "that's all I can promise."
She placed her hand on the back of his neck and pulled him down for a deep, but brief kiss.
"Good night, Commander," she whispered.
"Buonanotte, cara mia."
Chapter Eighteen
The heat was stifling. Voices sounded all around him but he was having difficulty concentrating. Pain. Pain was all he knew now; pain was all he was. It didn't matter. What did was that Melissa would have her husband's body to bury, and Riley would be safe. That's all that mattered. The pain...would end soon enough. Soon, he would be blissfully free from all of this. He wished he could see his family one more time. To tell his parents that he loved them. To see Nick and tell him that he forgave him. To hug Gia. To tease Andre. He hoped they knew that, in spite of all their differences, he loved them all very much.
The voices of his captors grew louder. With his arms bound and tied above his head he was having a hard time breathing, but every time he came close to losing consciousness, they would devise some way to revive him and prolong his torture. He knew by the sound of their voices that they'd come up with some new way to antagonize him...and then he heard a feminine gasp. His eyes flew open and he saw that two of his captors held Lainey between them. Real terror shot through him. He couldn't understand what they were saying but he could get the gist. Frantic, desperate, he scanned the room, looking for Abdul, the one who spoke English.
"Mike!" she cried when they tore her clothes from her and she stood nude before them all.
"Let her go!!" he roared.
Abdul crossed over to him, the hot branding iron he'd used on Mike in his hand.
"Is this your whore, infidel?" Abdul asked, stroking his hand down Lainey's cheek. "She's very beautiful," he said, lifting a strand of her blonde hair and raising it to his nose, "smells as sweet as a rose."
"Don't you touch her!"
"Mike, please!" she sobbed, her eyes wide with fear, "Help me!"
Abdul's hand trailed down to her breasts, roughly pulling on her nipple, making her cry out. Mike began fighting against his bonds, using what little strength he had left to try to wrench his arms free. Lainey screamed when Abdul pressed that awful brand to her lower abdomen, the blood-chilling sound echoing through the small room. That was all Mike needed to give him that last bit of adrenaline needed to pull his arms free...he lunged forward after Abdul, but when he did, Abdul drove a blade through Lainey's heart...
Mike jolted awake, pulled more violently from the dream than ever before. Beside him, Lainey sat up, placing her hand on the center of his chest. Before she could speak, he crushed her to him, cradling he
r head to his chest, stroking a not-so-steady hand over her blonde hair.
"Mike?" she asked, her voice thick with concern.
He kissed her brow then released her, getting up to pace, taking several deep, calming breaths...and finding it wasn't helping. Lainey had ended up in his nightmare. Just the thought of her being in that God-forsaken place, even in a dream had him wrecked. He thought briefly of the night Colt received the call that his wife was en route to the hospital and he needed to come home. As he'd thought that night, he'd seen Colt face down a lot of enemies, been with him shoulder-to-shoulder through some intense fire fights and had never once seen the big man scared. That night, however, his face had gone completely ashen and for the first time ever, Mike had seen real fear in Colt's eyes. He glanced over at Lainey who was sitting up with her knees drawn to her chest, arms wrapped around her legs watching him pace. She was so small, so pure...but also very strong.
"Talk to me, Mike, please?" she whispered.
He stopped pacing and faced her.
"I'm cold," he whispered, not really knowing what prompted him to share.
She stood and crossed over to him stopping just in front of him.
"Let me help you," she pleaded, reaching out to touch him. He took a step back before her hand could connect with his arm. "Mike?"
He shook his head. "Don't touch me right now, cara," he said softly.
"Why?"
"My emotions are too raw."
"You're trembling," she said, "let me help you, Mike, please."
"I can't."
"Yes, you can," she countered.
"Cara," he whispered.
"I'm not made of glass, Commander. I'm stronger than you think."
The fight left him then. He sank to his knees and wrapped his arms around her waist, burying his face against her abdomen. Lainey didn't hesitate. She wrapped her arms around his head and held him close to her, bending slightly to kiss the top of his head. He was trembling and it brought tears to her eyes, a huge lump forming in her throat. What horrors had he just relived to bring him to this state? She held him tight, knowing he would allow her to draw closer to him in that moment than he ever had before. She began combing her fingers through his hair, slightly rocking him and humming. At first, she didn't even realize what she was humming, but after a time, the song that came to her was. She hummed it for a while, and when he looked up at her, she began to softly sing it to him. She knew she didn't have the best singing voice, but she wasn't bad, either.
"Bellisima," he murmured when she stopped.
She cupped his face in her hands, looking down into his eyes.
"Tell me about the dream," she implored.
He swallowed hard and shook his head slightly. "I don't want to taint you with the details."
"I can handle it, Mike. It's eating you up inside, can't you see that? You need to talk about it. Let me help you."
"You are helping me, just by being here."
"Mike...talk to me."
He stood then, towering over her. For a moment, they stood just gazing into each other's eyes, then Mike slowly leaned down and kissed her forehead...then each of her eyes in turn, then her cheeks, then finally her lips. Lainey wanted to protest, to keep trying to get him to talk, but she backed down, not wanting to push him too far. The awful trembling had subsided and he seemed more in control of himself.
He pulled back, looking deep into her eyes, then lifted her into his arms and carried her back to the bed, laying with her snuggled close against his chest. Lainey twined her arms around his shoulders, pressing close against him, not in a sexual way, but in what she hoped would be comforting. It broke her heart to think of what he'd suffered through; to know that he was still suffering. She wanted so badly to talk to him. Riley had come to her and she'd helped him navigate through the worst of his demons enough so that he could find peace in his mind; she knew she could do the same for Mike if he'd only let her.
"Give me your hand, cara mia," he said, and wordlessly, she complied, slipping her left hand from around his shoulder and placing it in his outstretched one. He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed each fingertip one-by-one. "Si tiene il mio cuore nelle tue mani, bellisima," he whispered, placing a kiss to her palm.
Lainey held her breath. You hold my heart in your hands, he'd said. How was she supposed to not react to that? She squeezed his hand and snuggled closer to him, inhaling deep and loving the fragrance that was uniquely him.
"You sing really well," he said, pulling her from her thoughts.
She smiled against his chest. "You think so? You're my first solo audience."
He chuckled. "My mother used to sing Love Me Tender to us when we were little."
"My mother sang it to me, too...it's always comforted me. I know you don't want to talk about your dream now...but, just know that if you do ever want to tell me about it, I'm here for you...and I can handle it."
He kissed her brow. "I know that, cara mia. Maybe someday."
"I'll hold you to that, Commander."
"Understood," he replied.
"Think you can fall back asleep?" she asked.
"I'll try," he said, kissing her fingertips.
She let her fingers of her free hand comb through the hair at his nape, hoping to lull him to sleep. Her heart ached for him. The pain she'd seen in his eyes and in his body as he was pacing after the dream tore her to shreds.
Mike wasn't sure how long they lay there before Lainey's hand in his hair went slack and he knew she was asleep again. He didn't dare close his eyes; he didn't want the dream to return, didn't want to relive the horror of seeing Abdul torturing her, even if he knew it wasn't real. He was going to allow himself this night with her, holding her, but then he knew he'd have to pull back and put some space between them again. She was coming to mean more and more to him every day. He couldn't chance letting his emotions getting in the way of keeping her safe. When they returned home, he'd have only a week to prepare the security at the Adtkisson Estate for the Founder's Day Ball. That was a huge event that, if all ran smoothly, could set Orion Securities as the premier security firm in the state of Texas and have it well on its way to becoming tops in the nation. Not only that, but keeping Lainey safe was paramount. He didn't want Charles Conroy taking advantage of lax security and slipping in to take a shot at grabbing her.
His mind drifted to earlier, when he'd had her at his mercy in the bed. He knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that he could have taken her tonight. It would have been so easy to just let go and let hormones take over...but he owed her more...and he owed Riley more. Riley had come into his life at a time when he'd desperately needed a friend and they'd been inseparable since. Mike would gladly lay his life down for any of his men, but it went double for Riley. And now, knowing that Riley had wanted Lainey for him all along...he owed Riley more than he could ever repay, and because of that, he would not take advantage of Lainey just because it was convenient.
He thought of her kisses, and her total submission to him. She'd wanted to touch him, had begged to be allowed to...but just the threat of his absence had kept her hands where he'd told her to keep them. And when she'd mockingly thrown that saucy "Yes, sir" in, that aroused him unbearably as well. He'd been truthful all those years ago when he told Riley he wanted someone to worship, but he also knew himself. Knew he needed some level of control in all things, especially in the bedroom. He'd loved having her hands on him through his pants...but he was heavily scarred in that area. While he did believe Lainey was strong enough to handle it, he didn't know what having her see him would do to him, or what having her hands on his bare flesh would do to him. So, he needed that control. He needed to know that if he told her to do something or not do something, she would obey for fear of him walking away.
Obedience was not something that would come easy to her, either. As an only child, and the only girl in a family of guys, she'd been naturally a bit spoiled. Even Riley talked about how they all indulged her. She was the baby her parents thought
they'd never have and, as such, they showered her with love and attention, and pretty much let her do whatever she wanted. She wasn't spoiled in a bad way. But she was headstrong and independent in a way that both thrilled him and frustrated him. Just as her assertion that he better not expect her to say 'Yes, sir' to him outside of the bedroom had shown, she was not one to be walked over...and that was fine by him. He didn't want a door mat. He wanted her just the way she was...and willing to compromise in the bedroom. So far, he believed he was getting that.
She sighed in her sleep, drawing his attention. She did look like the pixie her cousins named her for. Petite yet full of feminine curves. He loved that she wasn't fashion-model thin. She had full breasts, a small waist and luscious hips he could hold on to. He couldn't wait for the day he could have her fully nude and underneath him, to plunge into her wet softness and lose himself in her.
He was becoming painfully aroused and knew he had to reign in his thoughts before things go too out-of-hand. Kissing the top of her head, he started thinking about the security plan for the Founders Day Ball and all the requirements of his time and attention it would entail. Unfortunately, he came to the conclusion that he would not be able to be her escort. There was too much he had to see to; too much that could potentially go wrong for him to have his attention divided. That was going to be a bone of contention with her, he had no doubt. No woman wanted to attend a function unescorted. He'd like nothing better to show his hometown society that she belonged to him, but he knew that wasn't going to happen, not with Conroy on the loose.
Sleep wasn't going to be an option, he knew. With a sigh, he slowly disentangled himself from her and got up to open his laptop and sit in the chair in the opposite corner of the room, pulling up the security footage from her house and offices. Unfortunately, the storm had knocked power out and there was about twenty minutes where nothing was recorded. He checked the live feeds, saw that everything was back up and running and that all looked quiet and secure. Satisfied, he pulled up his books and began going through and paying what needed paying and handling the rest of the necessities of running a business, thankful that he'd have Melissa to do it all for him soon.