by Cynthia Eden
“What is he to you?” She crossed her arms over her chest.
“He’s…” A pause. Roman decided to be honest. “Family. Part of a very messed-up family situation that I have.”
Her eyes widened.
Roman realized he’d just revealed more to her than he had ever anticipated. But he’d already said he was going to stop pretending. Telling her the full truth was hard, though, because he was really so…
“I’m fucked up,” he told her bluntly. “I have more issues than you can imagine. I like danger too much. I’ve done things that would give you nightmares. I’ve betrayed people who trusted me, and I’ve put enemies into the ground without a second thought.”
If possible, those gorgeous eyes of hers became even wider. There was no sign of her dimples.
“I’m not some nice guy. Definitely not the kind of guy you take home to meet the parents.”
“I don’t have parents for you to meet,” she whispered. “I don’t have any family.”
That hurt him. He didn’t like the image of her being alone. He wanted her safe. Protected. Happy.
“I’m the kind of guy…” His voice was gruff. Grating. “I’m the kind you send when you want to make people disappear. When shit needs handling, when gunfire and explosions are lighting the night, that’s when you send me. I know how to hurt people. How to strike them at their core. I was trained by a master, and I was trained very well.” So well that he was broken inside. Bent pieces that couldn’t form back into the man that he might have become if he’d led a different life.
“I think you’re back to trying to scare me.” Harper shook her head. “You need to stop that.”
“I’m trying to make sure you understand who I am.” His hands were fisted. “You can’t—dammit, Harper, you can’t kiss me. You can’t tell me that you want to rip my clothes off and expect me to just laugh that shit off. In case you’ve missed it, I’m not exactly the laughing type.”
“I did not miss that,” she assured him. “It is very easy to see.”
“You can’t play with me.”
“That seems a shame.”
Was she not listening? “Harper…”
She looked down at her gown. “So, am I walking out in this? Or do you think we can find some scrubs from a friendly nurse? Because I’d like to get out of here. I’m feeling pretty exhausted. I think a kidnapping does that to a person. I also figure we’ve got a very long drive ahead of us.”
“We’re not going home right away.” Home. Funny word. He didn’t think he actually had one of those. “I want to do more searching in the area before we leave.” His first instinct had been to haul ass out of there and get her as far away as possible. But he’d calmed down—marginally—and Eric had assured him that he’d secured a safe place for Harper to stay. “There’s a cabin close by. Eric has guards stationed all around it. I’ll take you there to rest.”
Her delicate jaw tensed. “You’re not going to dump me, then hunt while I’m sleeping.”
She had it all wrong. “I don’t intend to leave you at all.”
“Oh.”
“I told you, until these bastards are caught, we’re staying together. We’ll both rest up.” Because he hadn’t slept since she’d been taken. Something he wouldn’t mention. No sense in her knowing that part. “Dex and Eric have capable team members who can begin the recon. After we’ve gotten some sleep, we’ll start the hunt.” They’d find what evidence they could, then he’d get Harper back to his place outside of Atlanta.
A knock tapped against the door. “Is the heart-to-heart finished?” Dex called.
For the moment. “Get your ass in here,” Roman rumbled back.
The door opened. Dex came in carrying a pair of green scrubs. He offered them to Harper. “See how beneficial it can be to have me as a friend?”
She reached for the scrubs. “How are you his family?”
“Sorry, but I don’t reveal secrets.” Dex shrugged. He didn’t sound the least bit apologetic.
Her gaze cut to Roman. “That’s okay,” she said to Dex, but her focus lingered on Roman. “Sooner or later, I’ll learn all his secrets.”
Dex laughed. “Oh, highly doubtful.”
Dex was right. Roman wanted to be truthful with her but…No, baby, you can’t ever learn about all of the things I’ve done. If she did, she’d fear him too much. Fear him, hate him—was it the same thing?
Her smile came slowly. The dimples dipped into her cheeks. “Sooner or later, I’ll learn everything.”
An ache burned in Roman’s chest.
***
“For the tenth time, Eric, I’m fine.” She was trying hard to be polite, and Harper more than appreciated everything that Eric had done for her, but exhaustion had her weaving on her feet. Harper just wanted to crash in the giant bed that she could see in the bedroom behind Eric. “Please tell Piper that I am good, and I will call her soon.”
“Guards are stationed all around the cabin. No one is going to get inside to you, I swear it.”
“Right. Guards outside and Roman…” Her gaze darted to the left. Roman stood near the fireplace. “Roman is inside to keep me company.”
Roman’s stare was on her. All intense and focused.
With an effort, she pulled her attention back to Eric. “You know, I think I held my own against those guys pretty well. Things are blurry, yes, but I am remembering a few more bits and pieces.” That was true. “One guy kept saying he didn’t want to hurt me.” She shrugged. “But I was fine with hurting him. I’m pretty sure I gave him a nice, ragged scratch on the cheek.”
Roman stalked toward her.
“I was going to call Roman.” She could recall this now. “I’d made it to the bathroom. I had the phone in my hand. But…” Her temples throbbed. “Then I think they broke down the door.”
“And took you,” Eric concluded. She could see the anger in his eyes and in the faint tightening of his mouth. Eric’s agents weren’t just employees to him. They were friends. Practically family.
Or, in Roman’s case, actual family.
She knew Eric was furious about her abduction and that he’d do everything possible to find the perps responsible. Pissing off Eric Wilde was never a good idea. Someone out there had made a serious mistake.
“You’ll take care of her?” Eric asked Roman.
Harper sighed. “I’ll take care of him. How about that?”
“Well, yes, I knew that.” Eric inclined his head toward her. “But I wanted to make sure Roman wasn’t going to cut out while you were asleep because he had some crazy revenge streak going.”
“Oh, I’ve definitely got a crazy revenge streak.” Roman’s words were low. “But I won’t be leaving Harper. To get at her, the jerks will have to face me first.”
“Good to know.” Eric slapped him on the shoulder. “I’m going back to the cabin where she was held. I want to search the area myself. You two rest, and I’ll check in later.”
Right. Rest. She was so ready to fall face-first into the bed.
Harper didn’t speak again until Eric was gone and the cabin’s security system had been engaged. Eric had made arrangements for clothes to be brought to the cabin, and she’d changed out of the scrubs and into a comfy pair of sweats and a black t-shirt as soon as she’d arrived. Now she rubbed her hands on the soft cotton of the sweats and said, “So, I’d imagine this place probably has about four or five bedrooms. I think I’ll just take this one.” She pointed to the one she’d been eyeing. The closest one. She would be crashing face-first into that bed so hard.
“That seems like a good choice.”
They stared at each other.
“Okay.” She could handle Roman better after sleep. “See you in a few hours.”
His brow furrowed.
Harper turned and hurried into the bedroom. She pretty much jumped into the bed. The mattress was as soft and heavenly as it had looked and…
The floor creaked behind her.
Harper immediatel
y whirled over and lunged up. Fear had her heart racing because the last time she’d been in a bed and she’d heard a creak like that, three creeps had swarmed at her.
But the dark, hulking shadows weren’t coming for her this time.
Roman stood at the foot of the bed. His hands were loose at his sides, but his shoulders were tense. His expression seemed so carefully guarded. She realized he almost always seemed that way. So very guarded. And the times when that mask of his slipped, those were in the instances when she saw his stark need.
A need for her.
Her hands curled around the covers. “What are you doing?”
“Getting ready for bed.” He grabbed his shirt. Yanked it over his head.
Maybe she should have kept her eyes up. On his. That might have been polite. But he was the one stripping in front of her, so it wasn’t exactly her fault when her gaze drifted down to his chest. His abs.
Muscles. Power. She’d known he was strong. But this was different. This was sexiness. Hotness to the extreme. But there were marks on him. Scars. Faint lines that told Harper that Roman had never been some pampered rich boy. His life had been hard. Rough. Violent.
His hands were going to the snap of his jeans. This show was about to get seriously intense unless she did something. She heard herself squeak out, “Stop!”
He stilled. “I can sleep in the jeans. That’s fine.” He kicked away his shoes. Ditched his socks.
“Uh, Roman?” Harper cleared her throat.
He looked up.
“Why are you stripping in front of me?”
“I told you, I’ll leave on the jeans. It’s not a full strip.”
She lifted a brow. “Why did you take off half your clothes?”
“So I could be more comfortable and sleep better.”
“You mean you’re sleeping…in here?”
“Yes. You picked this room, and it was a good choice. I did a survey of all the bedrooms earlier, and this one has the biggest bed. We’ll both fit nicely.”
Fit nicely. The images those words conjured. Images that had nothing to do with the size of the bed, but rather with their bodies. Fitting ever so well.
She cleared her throat again. Twice more. “Why do you think you’re sleeping in here? I do not remember inviting you to come into this bedroom with me.”
His head cocked. “I told you I was going to stay close.”
They should discuss the full meaning of the word ‘close’ so there was no confusion. “Yes, inside the cabin is close. In the same bed, that’s intimate.”
His mask cracked. Because she was watching him so closely, Harper saw it happen. She saw the flash of hunger. Such raw need. A lust that had her heart pounding out in a double-time rhythm. Then he blinked, and Roman’s guard was immediately back up.
“You don’t want to be intimate with me,” he said slowly.
Actually, she rather wanted that very badly.
“I won’t touch you.” He motioned to the bed. “You stay on your side. I’ll stay on mine. I just need to make sure you’re safe.”
“And you have to do that by being in the same bed with me?”
A shrug. “It would make me feel better.”
Was he serious? “You don’t trust the guards outside? Or the security system?”
“You had a security system at your place. Those assholes still got inside. Didn’t trigger anything.”
True.
“And no, I don’t really trust anyone else with your safety. The attack was personal, and that means I am going to personally make certain they don’t get you again. Close for me isn’t being down the hallway or being upstairs. It’s not being in another room while some sonofabitch sneaks inside to take you—or to slit your throat so that I can’t even hear you scream.”
“Well, someone just painted a scary picture in my head.” She yanked back the covers, moved to the pillow on the left, and got herself settled in all nice and snug. Harper plumped up her pillow and wiggled her shoulders.
He kept standing at the foot of the bed and watching her. “I can sleep on the floor. If that makes you feel better.”
“Better?” She mulled that. “No, the idea of you spreading out on the hard floor doesn’t make me feel better. You’re right. The bed is plenty big.” She reached out a hand and patted the empty pillow near her. “What are you waiting for?”
“Your invitation.”
She’d just given it. “Get in the damn bed so I can go to sleep.”
For a moment, his smile flashed. Such a brief moment. She thought that she’d imagined it. He settled in beside her, and the big, giant bed suddenly seemed to shrink.
“I won’t touch you,” he said. “I’ll stay on this side.”
“Has anyone ever told you that you have a severe protective streak?”
His head turned on the pillow so that he was staring at her. Such a close—no, intimate—position. “No one has ever told me I was protective. Most people just say I’m a really cold-blooded bastard. And that I’m good at killing.”
She nibbled on her lower lip.
“I shouldn’t have said that last part. I scared you again.”
Harper stopped nibbling. “You haven’t scared me yet. I was just thinking, that’s all.”
“Thinking that you shouldn’t be anywhere near me?”
“Thinking…” Her tone was soft. “What is it about me that puts you in protective mode? Is it just because I was taken and you believe it’s your fault? That’s got you all protective and antsy?” She could smell him. That crisp, masculine scent that she enjoyed far too much. “No…” Her voice turned musing. “You were all hyper protective even before the abduction. That was one of the reasons I had to go to Eric. You kept jumping in front of me and danger.”
His gaze was on her.
“Why do I get the special treatment?” Harper whispered.
“Maybe because you’re special.” He shifted position on the bed. Leaned closer to her.
He’d said he wouldn’t touch her, but it sure looked as if Roman was about to come in for a kiss. Her breath caught.
He reached behind her head. Turned off the lamp. The room immediately plunged into darkness. “Sleep well, Harper.”
Her breath rushed out. He’d eased back onto his side of the bed. Her heartbeat drummed in her ears as she lay there. She was far too conscious of him next to her. Of his warmth. His size. His every breath.
“I didn’t know…that you tried to call me.” His voice was halting. Low.
She swallowed and closed her eyes. “You’re my partner. Who else would I call?”
“Maybe that asshat you dated last week.”
She rolled over, putting her back to him. “That asshat is history,” she said softly. “Besides, it’s not like he would come rushing to the rescue with guns blazing. Not like he’d do anything necessary to save me. Not like he’s—”
You.
But she didn’t say that. Barely.
Sometimes, a woman needed a man who could kick ass and take names. Harper was starting to think there might be a whole lot of advantages to having a guy who didn’t say much but could sure get shit done. “Thanks for coming after me.”
“Always.”
His one-word reply wrapped around her like a caress.
“Just so you know,” Harper murmured as sleep pulled at her. “I’d do the same for you.”
***
Harper was asleep. He could hear the faint sound of her gentle breaths. She’d dozed off quickly. Her last words had slurred with sleepiness.
I’d do the same for you.
Interesting. Unsettling. He actually believed she meant what she’d said. If something happened to him, if he just vanished, Harper would come after him.
She’d think he was in danger. That he needed help. She’d fly to the rescue. Just like she’d rushed in his house when she’d thought that Dex was a threat.
He could see the curves of her body in the dark. His eyes had adjusted to the darkness easily.
They always did. He wanted to reach out and touch her. To skim his fingers over her body, but he’d promised not to touch her.
With Harper, he wanted to keep his promises.
He pulled in a deep breath. Relief settled around him. Harper was safe. She was close.
His eyes slid shut, and he was finally able to sleep. His last thought?
Do not touch her. Do not…
***
When Roman opened his eyes hours later, Harper was stretched out on top of him.
Chapter Seven
Her legs straddled his hips. His dick shoved up against her sex—and, yes, the damn thing was very eager and erect. Her soft breasts pressed to his chest, and her head was nestled in the crook of his neck. He could feel the light stir of her breath against his skin.
His hands—greedy bastards—were clamped possessively around her hips.
Shit.
He’d broken his word. Hadn’t even lasted a few hours. What had he done? Hauled her on top of him in his sleep? Harper was going to be so pissed. Maybe he could gently disengage before she opened her eyes.
But…
She felt so good. Smelled so sweet.
And her body was already tensing against his because, of course, she would be waking up at that exact moment.
Fuck me. “Uh, Harper…” Her name came out all raspy and hungry. “I can explain…” He couldn’t, but he should try.
Her head slowly lifted. Her hands pushed onto the mattress on either side of him as she lifted herself up, and as she lifted her upper body, her lower pushed even harder against his dick.
Fuck, fuck, fuck—
“I’m on top of you.” Her voice was husky.
He nodded.
Her lashes swept down. She seemed to study the scene. “On your side of the bed.”
“Um.”
Her lashes lifted. Her dimples made his heart stop. “That’s not even one real word, Roman.”
It—
He squeezed his eyes shut. “You need to get off me,” he bit out. His hands released her hips as he grabbed for the covers. He fisted them in his grip. “Now.”
“Well, good morning to you, too.” She didn’t move off him.