The bedroom door opens, and there he is—all six-foot-five of pure muscle and intensity. Gray fills the doorframe, wearing nothing but low-slung jeans, a steaming mug in his hand. My eyes trace the map of scars across his chest and abs before I can stop myself. He catches me looking and smiles, a predatory curve of lips that sends heat straight to my core.
"Morning, baby girl."
That name again. The one that makes me melt.
I pull the sheet higher despite the t-shirt already covering me. His lip quirks up and no wonder. Here I am trying to cover my nudity after he was literallyinsideme last night.
He sets the mug—coffee, from the smell—on the nightstand and sits on the edge of the bed. The mattress dips under his weight, sliding me fractionally closer to him.
"We need to talk," I manage, trying to sound stern despite the way my body is already responding to his proximity.
"Talk." One massive hand lands on my blanket-covered knee, and even through the layers, his touch burns.
I take a deep breath. "You said you know about the mix-up with the bounty. That I'm innocent."
"You are."
"Then why am I here? Why not just tell the authorities? Clear my name?"
Gray's dark eyes narrow. "You think I haven't tried? The system's fucked. Clerical errors take weeks, sometimes months to fix. Meanwhile, every lowlife with a pair of handcuffs will be hunting you."
"So what, I just stay your prisoner until it's resolved?"
"Not my prisoner." His hand slides up from my knee to my thigh, the heat of his palm searing through the blanket. "My responsibility."
I scoot back until I hit the headboard. "Stalking me for weeks isn't taking responsibility. It's creepy. Illegal."
A flash of something—anger? shame?—crosses his face. "I did what I had to do to keep you safe."
"By watching me without my knowledge? How many times, Gray? How many times did you follow me home? Watch me through my windows?" My voice rises with each question. "Did you watch me change? Shower?"
"No." His answer is instant, firm. "I protected your perimeter. Made sure no one else was watching you. There's a difference."
I want to believe him, but the intensity in his eyes makes me wonder what else he's capable of. "Let me go, Gray. I'll take my chances."
"No." Simple. Final.
"You can't keep me here."
"I can. I will." He leans forward, those massive arms caging me in. His face hovers inches from mine. "You've been running scared for months. Looking over your shoulder. Never feeling safe. I'm offering you protection."
"At what cost?" I whisper.
His eyes drop to my lips. "You already paid last night. And from the sounds you made, baby girl, you enjoyed the payment."
Heat floods my cheeks. "That was—I wasn't thinking clearly."
"You were thinking clearer than you ever have." His voice drops to that gravelly register that makes my insides quiver. "Your body knew what it needed."
I push against his chest, needing space to think. He doesn't budge. "I need to leave. I have a job. A life."
"A life of running. Of fear." His hand cups my face, surprisingly gentle for such a brutal man. "Not anymore."
Something in me snaps. I duck under his arm and scramble off the bed, making a break for the bedroom door. I don't have a plan beyond that, but I need to try.
The cabin's main room is just as I remember from last night—open kitchen flowing into a living area, the couch where he—where we—God, I can't even look at it. I spot the front door and lunge for it.
Locked. Of course it's locked. I fumble with the deadbolt, fingers clumsy with panic.
