Page 70 of The Devil’s Lair

“Wonderful. I feel so relaxed.”

“I’m glad. You deserve a little pampering.”

“A little? I’ve been spoiled. Everyone is so lovely.”

When we arrive back at the rooms Isla and I share, and which has recently expanded into Isla having her own bedroom, Tobias hovers like he’s unsure whether to go or stay.

“Would you like to help me bath her? We could have dinner together, and then you could help me put her to bed.”

I don’t think there is a single thing I could’ve said which would’ve made him look happier than he does right now.

“I’d love to.”

“You say that now, but I’m putting you in charge of the bedtime story, which she will insist you read at least five times to avoid going to sleep.”

“If it makes her happy, I’ll read it ten times.”

Dinner is a simple affair of pasta, and by the time her bowl is empty, Isla’s half asleep. All that fresh air and excitement have done their job. I give her a quick bath and get her into her pajamas. Tobias insists I relax on the sofa while he puts Isla to bed and, in a move unlike me, I don’t even argue. I sink onto the couch and close my eyes. Just for a minute, I tell myself. Just while Tobias settles Isla down. But exhaustion pulls me under before I can fight it.

“Hey.”

The voice snaps me from sleep. I scramble up the couch, cowering, knees pulled to my chest, hands guarding my face. “I’m sorry. Don’t hurt me. Please don’t hurt me.”

“Rebecca, you’re okay.” A hand touches my shoulder. I flinch. “It’s me. It’s Tobias. You’re safe.”

Reality creeps toward me at a snail’s pace. I slowly lower my hands and scan the room. I’m not at the home I shared with Marcus. I’m at Oakleigh. My heart hammers inside my chest, each beat painfully earned.

“Tobias?” My voice is hoarse.

“Yes, it’s me. You fell asleep.”

I blink, my eyes stinging as Tobias’s face comes into focus. “Asleep. Right.” I drag a shaky hand through my hair. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,” he growls. “Not to me. Never to me.” He perches on the end of the couch, as far away from me as he can get. “What can I do, Wren?”

My hands won’t stop shaking. I tuck them underneath my armpits. Definitely something to discuss with Jane at my next session.

“Can I hold you?” Tobias asks. “Only if you think it’ll help.”

A warm rush comes over me, chasing away the chill that’s settled in my bones. “I’d really like that,” I whisper.

Tobias shuffles along the couch before enclosing me in his muscular arms. He brushes my hair off my face and kisses the top of my head. It’s platonic, not sexual, and it’s the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me. I melt against him, soaking up his heat, his solid steadiness.

“You’ve called me Wren twice now.”

“I’ll stop if you hate it.”

“I love it.” I’ve never had a nickname. Not even at school, unless loser counts.

He squeezes a little tighter.

“Did Isla go off to sleep okay?”

“Yeah, although you were right. Five times I read that book on her bedside table.” He chuckles. “You know your daughter.”

I huff a laugh, the earlier fear I’d felt when sleep conned me into thinking I was back in hell shrinking. “You’re so good with her. She adores you.”

“I’m completely besotted with her. She’s got me wrapped around her little finger.”