The trusting gesture bored into his chest.
He’d wanted to be there for her. As support, as backup, if that’s all she would accept. As a friend, if that’s what she wanted. She shouldn’t have to face that prick alone.
But at some point—when she’d slipped off her wrap, maybe, or dumped the plate of oysters onto that tosser’s lap—Tim’s brain had detonated, right along with his best intentions. She’d looked so beautiful. She always did. But tonight... The images burned his retinas like the aftermath of an explosion. Dee in that dress, with her hair down. Dee, marching into the dragon’s lair, flushedand shining with courage. Dee, wearing only her body armor and boots, or naked and under him.
He hadn’t been able to breathe, let alone think.
She’d wanted it, he reassured himself, relieved and grateful. Wanted him. But he couldn’t help feeling he’d taken advantage, whatever she said.
Mildly alarming, that, since he’d spent his entire life trying to do the right thing. What if she decided this had all been some horrible mistake?
She shifted, her round knees pressing his thigh, and he wanted her again. Over him, under him, any way she wanted. He ran his hand gently up her bare arm, unable to resist touching her. Her lips curved against his shoulder. Something expanded in his chest, his blasted lung or his shrapnel-pierced heart.
His phone vibrated on the nightstand.
Dee stirred. “What time is it?” she murmured drowsily.
He glanced at the screen.Charles.Not now, he thought. He cleared his throat. “Almost midnight. Go back to sleep.”
He didn’thaveto answer. It was probably nothing.
Notifications lit up his phone screen.Missed Call. Voice Mail.He tapped. The download circle spun, transcribing the message to text.
Dee raised on her elbow, her soft parts shifting under the sheet. “Is everything all right?”
“Everything’s fine.”Probably. He watched the circle go round and round and round... He put down the phone and looked at her. The light of the screen burnished her profile to a silver glow. The curve of her cheek, the tip of her nose, her parted lips... “How are you feeling?”
“Glorious.”
“Dragon slayer,” he said.
Mischief crept into her smile. “Debaucher of squires.”
A laugh broke from his chest at her unexpected boldness. He thought she was brave before, facing down her old lover, defying public embarrassment in the hotel bar. But this, the way she found the courage to put herself out there, over and over again, to risk her body and her heart—with him—was taking bravery to a whole different level.
He was jealous, frankly. And determined to make sure she didn’t regret it.
“I did some debauching myself. Dee...” His phone buzzed with an incoming text. His mouth tightened. “Sorry, I should...”
Dee flapped her fingers. “Go ahead.”
Charles’s message was short and to the point.Pick up, you bastard.Heaviness invaded Tim’s body.
“Do you need to get that?” Dee asked.
No.Yes. “It’s fine.”
Another buzz. Another call. From Laura, this time.Hell.
“I don’t mind,” Dee said.
“Thanks. I just... I’ll be right back.” He swung his feet out of bed and stood, taking the phone with him into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him before he returned Laura’s call.
“What is it?” he asked without preamble when she answered.
“Are you busy?”
“I had a call from Charles. What’s he done?”
