Savannah is not my slave.
Hell, she’s not even my submissive.
Still, when she sits and lays her hands in her lap, she looks at me and my heart turns over in my chest.
I don’t care that she’s beautiful.
I don’t care that she’s dainty and graceful and everything I love in a woman.
I don’t admire her perfect, shapely legs, or the way her lips part when she’s afraid, or the long, sensitive fingers that graze her neck when she swallows…
Aw, hell.
I admire everything about her.
I don’t remember staff coming in the room and handing me the first aid kit. I find it in my hands. Normally, in serious emergency situations like this I’d let staff handle it, but the thought of anyone but me touching her…
I can’t touch her.
Before I know what’s happening, I’m kneeling in front of Savannah.
“Thayer, allow me,” Maman offers.
No.
“I’ve got it, Maman. Like you said, she’s safe now. I’ll make sure no one hurts her.”
Ignoring my suggestion, Maman sits on the couch next to Savannah and reaches for her hand. “Can I get you anything?”
Savannah looks at Maman and her lower lip quivers. Maman reaches over to her and embraces her. She runs her hand down the length of Savannah’s hair over and over until Savannah releases a shuddering sigh.
“Maman, why don’t you have the staff prepare her a room?”
Maman lets her go. “I’ll do that,” she whispers to her. “Thayer, if you need anything at all, call me.”
I nod as I open the first aid kit. My mind is reeling with the details she told me. If she was at Avelline’s, this is a lot worse than she even knows. Last year, the Lyon family was arrested for a dual murder in the alley outside the restaurant. It was the first time we realized their enemies and ours frequented the establishment.
I’ll ask her for more details, but right now, I tend to her wounds.
Maman leaves.
Mario and Lyam have yet to return.
Staff retreats when I give them a look that makes them scurry.
Savannah and I sit alone in the living room.
“Now tell me,” I say, as I lift her leg to examine her injury. “Tell me everything you remember. Start from the beginning.”
CHAPTER THREE
Savannah
Thayer Gerard is kneelingin front of me.
Touching me.
Sure, he’s doctoring my wounds, and he’s trying his best to take care of me, but I can’t stop my mind from reeling.
