We still haven’t moved when the Chief pops up, his gaze taking in the lengths of rope in the back of the van. His stern gaze then catches mine.
“I’ll head back to town now, but I’ll need a formal statement from you and your lady.”
My lady? Yeah, I like that. I like that just fine.
“Can we catch up with you tomorrow? I’m worried she’s going into shock.”
A curt nod is the only response to my request before he’s on his way.
I press my lips to the bruise on Phoebe’s forehead before putting my finger under her chin and lifting her face so I can brush her lips with mine. Her eyes flutter open, tears clinging to her lower lashes.
“I thought that was it. And when he said…”
She bites hard on her bottom lip, keeping the rest of her words where they are.
I lower my head until our foreheads touch. “Phoebe, what did he say? You can tell me. You can tell me anything, you know that, right?”
She takes a couple of tries, but eventually gets the words out.
“A blonde? But I haven’t been near another woman since I met you.”
I’m thinking about the reason I’d left Phoebe alone when the realization hits. I’m unable to stop myself from a brief chuckle with this also one of relief.
Because of the hotel’s strict NO DOGS policy and the owner going full ‘Karen’, I’d been called on to kick her out. Given the choice, I’d have been happier dealing with the pooch, because it was better behaved.
“Yeah, that blonde Ralph said I was with. She was a Golden Retriever and her name was Butterscotch.” To further make light of the accusation laid at my feet, I scratch my arm. “I think she gave me fleas.”
Finally, I’m rewarded with Phoebe’s gentle laughter. It’s not much, but it’s enough to let me know she’s accepted my explanation. It also says the terror that had been close to overwhelming her is lifting.
“Come on, let’s get out of here. I want to get you home and check for myself that he didn’t hurt you.”
TEN
PHOEBE
Wyatt’s helping me out the back of the van, when I notice my state of undress. That Ralph had seen me like this has the shivers I’d just mastered back with a vengeance. I feel unclean, somehow soiled.
Wyatt tightens his hold on me. “Hey, hey, you’re okay, Phoebe. You’re safe.”
A hiccup of tears and I bury my face in Wyatt’s chest, unable to face him when I speak. “He put a rag soaked in something over my face. I blacked out…”
Wyatt stiffens, but instead of loosening his grip in revulsion, he keeps a tight hold on me. “Phoebe, I don’t care.” He kisses the top of my head. “Well, other than how much I want to beat the crap out of him.”
After buckling me into the passenger seat, he returns to the van and grabs my suitcase. Rather than head straight back to the villa, Wyatt swings by the emergency room. There I’m prodded and poked and declared relatively unhurt, apart from a multitude of bruises thanks to Ralph’s driving skills.
Soon enough we’re back at the villa, but rather than allow me to get dressed, Wyatt slowly removes the toweling robe and tucks me into bed. Even better is when he strips down to his boxers and climbs in next to me.
Despite the ordeal I’d just been through, my body responds, although he’s having none of it. “Phoebe, let’s just cuddle. We’ve got our whole lives ahead of us. For now, I just want to hold you.”
He then spoons me, his arm wrapped protectively around my waist, his breath warming my shoulder. I’m not sure why, but I get that he’s taking as much comfort from our closeness as I am.
He holds me tighter for a moment, before pushing my hair to one side and kissing me softly on the back of the neck. “When I got back and found the note saying you’d left for a big job in LA, it destroyed me.”
Immediately, love, peace, and longing flood my body. “You know it wasn’t from me, right?”
“I do. I did. You’d never start a note by calling me Babe because…”
“… that’s a pig’s name,” I finish for him. There’s no missing his smile when he presses his lips to the nape of my neck.
