"No." The word is almost a growl. "But you've been through hell and I'm not going to take advantage of that. When we do this, and we will do this, I want you to be sure. I want you to be ready."
When, not if. The certainty in his voice makes my toes curl.
"What if I'm ready now?"
His hands tighten on my hips. "Then I'd say your body's been through a lot and it needs more time to heal. And I'd say I wantto do this right. Court you properly. Take you on a real date instead of having our first time be because we got carried away by a fire."
Court me. Like something out of an old Western. Like I'm worth the effort of patience.
I rest my forehead against his, our breath mingling in the small space.
"You're a frustrating man, Cade Marshall."
"So I've been told." His thumbs trace circles on my hips. "Sleep with me in my bed tonight? I just want to hold you."
It's the most romantic thing anyone has ever said to me. More romantic than Kevin's elaborate proposals and expensive gifts. More meaningful than any grand gesture. He wants to hold me. That's all. That's everything.
"Okay." I press one more kiss to his lips, soft and sweet. "But you should know, I'm not a patient woman."
His laugh rumbles through both of us. "Good. Because my self control has a limit, and you're testing every inch of it."
I climb off his lap, my legs unsteady, and let him lead me to his bedroom. He gives me a t shirt to sleep in and turns his back while I change. When I slip under the covers, he joins me, pulling me against his chest like I belong there.
His heartbeat is steady under my ear. His arms are strong around me. And for the first time in years, I feel safe enough to close my eyes.
"Goodnight, Natalie," he murmurs against my hair.
"Goodnight, Cade."
I fall asleep smiling.
CHAPTER FIVE
CADE
Iwake up with Natalie in my arms and no nightmare clawing at my chest.
For a long moment, I just lie there. Taking inventory. The soft weight of her head on my shoulder. The warmth of her body pressed along my side. The way her hand has found its way under my shirt, palm flat against my stomach like she needed to feel my skin.
I can't remember the last time I slept through the night.
She stirs, making a small sound, and burrows closer. Her lips brush my collarbone, and my whole body tightens in response.
Down, boy.
I told her I wanted to do this right. Court her properly. That means keeping my hands to myself until she's had more time to heal, no matter how badly I want to map every inch of her with my mouth.
But God, she makes it difficult.
"You're thinking too loud." Her voice is sleep rough, muffled against my chest.
"Sorry."
She tilts her head back to look at me. Her hair is a mess, tangled from sleep, and there's a pillow crease on her cheek. She's beautiful.
"How'd you sleep?" I ask.
"Better than I have in months." She traces a pattern on my stomach with her fingertip. "You?"
