Page 47 of Serve ’N’ Protect

“Every time I close my eyes, I see his fist headed my way.” That, and your perfect, naked body. “I was going in search of chocolate.”

“Sorry. Don’t have any.”

“I didn’t actually think you did, but I’m desperate.”

In the darkness, he hmphed. “Is there something else I can get you that might help?”

Um, yeah. Your arms wrapped around me for the entire night, she thought but lacked the intestinal fortitude to say. Plus, when Markus had left her and gone into the other bedroom, he hadn’t touched her again, hadn’t so much as tried to kiss her good night. Did he regret kissing her earlier? Was it just a onetime, hopped-up-on-adrenaline mistake in judgment?

She hoped not, because on a scale of one to a hundred, Markus’s kisses rated a solid 101. His kisses blew Hugh’s away.

“Is there?” he asked again.

“Would you…” She stared at his chest, feeling like a small child that didn’t want to be left alone at night because the boogie monster was hiding under the bed.

“Would I what?”

Was it her imagination or had his voice gone husky, as in, porn-star husky?

She swallowed, praying he hadn’t heard. “Stay with me?”

His minty breath washed over her face in a soft whoosh, as if he’d been holding it. “Okay,” he said after another long moment.

Cassidy turned and went to the bed, hooking her cane on the bedside table and sliding back under the covers. Her heart pounded wildly as she imagined him in the same bed with her.

Ghost strolled in and made himself comfortable on the floor by the door. The other side of the mattress shifted as Markus lay down. Instead of slipping under the covers, he tucked in behind her, remaining on top of the duvet and resting his hand at her blanketed waist. “Better?”

“Mm-hmm.” They were spooning. Actually spooning.

Through the thick covers, the heavy hand at her waist was more comforting than an entire barracks of state police watching over her. He slipped his hand lower, snugging her closer to his chest.

Her heart rate jacked up and she now suspected that her invitation might have been a mistake—sleep-wise, that was. Not only was he in the same bed with her, but he was spooning and touching and—

Don’t. Go. There.

“Thank you,” she said over her shoulder. “And thanks for understanding.”

“You’re welcome. And it’s no problem.” His lips brushed against her ear, sending a wave of delicious shivers down her back. “Given what happened, I’d be surprised if you were able to sleep.”

Awkwardly, she turned in his arms to face him. As she did, he lifted his hand from her waist, and she instantly regretted changing positions. But then he returned his hand to her waist, as if it were the most natural thing to do.

“There’s nothing wrong with being afraid to fall asleep,” he said, his voice a gentle rumble. “I’ve been there myself, many times.”

“You? Afraid?” That was hard to believe. Then again, he’d been to war. “You mean when you were in the marines.”

He made a scoffing sound. “Actually, I was referring to when I was a kid. In addition to being a narcissistic asshole, Steven, my father, verbally abused Kelly and me. Once in a while, after one of his tirades, he’d get physical. I’d lie awake until the sun came up, just in case he barged in with his favorite leather belt, the one with the silver buckle so big it left welts that lasted for days.”

Her jaw dropped, leaving her momentarily speechless. “He whipped you with it?” Cassidy couldn’t imagine what kind of an animal whipped his own children. Sure, she knew it happened out there in the world but would never have suspected that Markus—a man big and strong and tactically trained—to have been one of those children.

His voice went hard. “Yeah.”

The ache in her heart was so great that, again, Cassidy struggled to find words. “My God, Markus.” She touched her fingers to his cheek, needing to feel him, to somehow transmit all the anger and compassion building inside her for the boy that he’d been. “I’m so sorry you went through that.” Her parents had never raised a hand once to her or any of her siblings. No wonder Markus was emotionally shut down tighter than a drum. “How long did he do that to you?”

“Years.” The chuckle that escaped his lips held zero mirth. He clasped her hand, threading his fingers with hers and tugging their hands to his chest. “Until I got big enough to fight back. Steven wanted a perfect athlete, and he got one. I worked out, got bigger and stronger every year, and it showed in my performance. By the time I was seventeen, Division 1 schools were knocking on the door with athletic scholarships. But the best part was one night when I saw that buckle coming at me, inches from my face, and I grabbed it in midair. When I threw it back at him, he finally figured out that I could kick the shit out of him. He never tried whipping me again.”

“And you stayed there?” Again, she couldn’t imagine the nightmare he and sister had endured.

“Until I was twenty.”