“I’m not afraid of you.”
“You should be.”
I shake my head. It’s amazing that he can’t see it. “You make me feel safe.”
Desire ratchets up, sending heat through my middle.
Saint’s arms fall to the side, hands clenching like he’s trying not to touch me. God, I want him to.
Why is he holding back?
“Don’t start something you don’t understand, Wren.”
He stays, lingering as intimacy coils in the space between us. When I change into one of his oversized shirts, his pupils are fully blown. But he doesn’t touch me as we crawl into bed together.
11
DOC
Saint has finally slept in his own damn bed. After the confrontation with Wren, which took every damn bit of my restraint, I knew something would push her to stand up as his woman. It needed done.
Even if all I can think about is how badly I want to touch all that skin she showed off to me.
I shake myself out of that thought.
This is good progress, but his office light is on, and it’s early. When I push open his door, he’s strapping on his holster. I raise my brow at him.
“I’m going out. I want you to take care of Wren while I’m gone.” His voice is flat, tired, exhausted. He spent the night down there, but I doubt he got any sleep. And not for any fun reasons.
I bet she cuddled right up against him, and he refused to move and create too much intimacy. He doesn’t think I see how he avoids it, doesn’t think I know about what happened to his wife and kid and that he thinks he doesn’t deserve to have that again.
But he’s wrong.
I narrow my gaze at him, frowning. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
He huffs, as if saying what he means is going to rip his heart out. “She’s vulnerable.”
All the more reason for me to stay away from her. It’s already hard not to go right to her when I spot her in a room.
And Saint must read it on my face.
“You’re going to have to give me some firm ground rules.” Because my thoughts are spinning out. Flashes of her skin, those thick thighs, the way her shirts barely hide her…how Saint’s vest covers it all.
I want to devour her, and Saint is dangling bait in front of me.
The tension in him grows, bunching his shoulders and curling his hands into fists like he might throw one at me. “Whatever it takes to make her feel comfortable. Welcome. Keep her from running. Again.”
That’s not exactly what I meant.
“Don’t do anything she doesn’t initiate.”
Oh. That’s clearer. “You’re sure?”
Please, every holy being that might still be listening to me, let him be sure.
“Yes. For now. May as well keep her in her room. Most of us will be gone today anyway.”
My heart beats hard. I want to run to her right now. But I school myself and nod. “You’ve got it, boss.”
