“Not your choice.” He turned away, resuming his perimeter check, testing the window locks again. “Not asking permission.”
“But I’m asking you not to throw away everything you’ve built here.” She caught his wrist, forcing him to stop. “
“Please.” She slid her hand down to his, lacing her fingers through his scarred ones. “I’m not worth going back to prison for.”
He stared at their joined hands for a long moment, then slowly raised his eyes to hers. “You are.” His free hand came up to cup her cheek for a moment before he dropped it and turned away. “Get some sleep, Maggie. I’ll make sure you’re safe.”
She wasn’t going to get through to him. At least not tonight, when he was all but a raw nerve. She saw it in his eyes, so she let it drop for now and took her pajamas into the bathroom to change.
She crawled under the covers and watched Anson through half-closed eyes. He moved like a caged predator, checking locks he’d already verified, peering through blinds at shadows that hadn’t changed in the last five minutes. The cabin wasn’t large, and his constant movement made it feel even smaller.
“You need sleep too,” she said finally.
He glanced at her but didn’t pause in his patrol. “I’m fine.”
“You’re not.” She pushed back the covers and padded across the floor to where he stood sentinel by the front window.
“Come to bed.” She slid her arms around his waist from behind and pressed her cheek against his back. “Standing guardall night won’t help anything, and you’re making Bramble anxious.”
They both looked down at the dog
The wolfhound was watching them from his post by the door, amber eyes tracking their every move, body rigid with the same protective tension that radiated from Anson.
“He’s fine,” Anson muttered, though his hand dropped to stroke the dog’s head when Bramble shifted closer.
“No, he’s exhausted. Like you.” She tugged gently at his waist. “Please. Just lie down for a little while.”
For a moment, she thought he might refuse. Then he nodded and let her lead him to the bed. Bramble watched them go, then repositioned himself at the foot of the bed, still watching the door, never abandoning his guard post.
Anson didn’t bother removing his clothes. He just toed off his boots and stretched out beside her. When she curled against him, his body curved around hers like a shield between her and the world.
“Sleep,” he whispered against her hair. “I’m here.”
But she didn’t sleep. She just lay there, wide-awake, exhausted but wired, wondering how Landry had managed to be in two places at once.
twenty-five
Anson couldn’t sleep.
He should’ve been thinking about Landry. About security measures. About how to keep Maggie safe. Instead, all he could think about was the soft curve of her ass nestled against his cock, her hair tickling under his chin. Every breath she took flooded his senses with her, and every time she shifted in her sleep, his body responded with a near-painful throb of desire.
He was supposed to be guarding her. Not fighting the urge to wake her with his hands and mouth.
He shifted slightly, trying to put some space between them, but Maggie made a small sound of protest in her sleep and pressed back against him. Heat surged through his veins, and he bit down on his tongue, the pain momentarily distracting him from the far more pleasant sensations threatening to overwhelm his self-control.
It wasn’t working. Not even close.
Fuck.
He gritted his teeth and tried to think about anything else. Horseshoes that needed shaping. The leak in the forge roof. The pile of leather waiting to be cut for all the various commissions he’d let pile up over the last couple of weeks.
But his mind kept circling back to Maggie. To the warmth of her. To the trust she’d placed in him by asking him to stay.
He should move. Put space between them. Go back to the chair by the window. But the thought of untangling himself from her felt impossible, like cutting off a limb.
Bramble huffed from his position by the door, and Anson envied the dog’s ability to simply lie down and rest, untroubled by the storm of thoughts and desires that kept his own mind racing.
She stirred again, and this time she wasn’t asleep. Her body tensed slightly against his, and he knew she’d felt his reaction. Felt his cock against her. There was a moment of stillness between them, heavy with possibility, before she shifted again, more deliberately this time, a slow roll of her hips that sent a jolt of electricity straight through him.
