Page 34 of How To Tempt A Bodyguard

She didn't hear him. Her body arched off the mattress, every muscle straining, fighting something that existed only in her mind. A sound tore from her throat. Animal, anguished, the kind of sound that came from a place beyond words.

He caught her shoulders, firm but careful, trying to anchor her without adding to whatever terror held her. "Mrs Archer. Wake up. It's a dream. Just a dream."

She fought him. Harder than he expected, her nails raking across his forearms, her body twisting with surprising strength. Her eyes were open but unseeing, fixed on something over his shoulder—some horror she couldn't escape.

"Florence." Her name came without thought. He cupped her face in his hands, forcing her to look at him. "Florence. It's Matthew. You're safe. I've got you. Come back to me."

Her eyes focused. Slowly. Like someone swimming up from deep water.

She saw him.

For a moment she just stared, her chest heaving, her whole-body trembling. Tears streamed down her cheeks, soaking into his palms. Her hands had found his wrists and gripped them like he was the only anchor in the sea.

"Matthew," she breathed.

"I'm here." He stroked his thumbs across her cheekbones, wiping at the tears. "You're safe. It was just a dream."

"It wasn't." Her voice cracked. "It was a memory."

He didn't ask. Didn't need to. He'd had those dreams himself. The ones that weren't imagination but echo. The ones you woke from still feeling the lash, still tasting blood.

"It's over," he said. "Whatever it was, it's over. You're here. With me."

Her breath shuddered out of her. Her grip on his wrists didn't loosen.

"Don't let go," she whispered. "Please. Don't let go yet."

"I won't."

He shifted, meaning to settle beside her, to hold her until the shaking stopped. But she moved with him—into him—and suddenly her face was inches from his, her breath warm against his mouth. Her eyes searched his, and the fear was gone. What remained was hunger. Desperation.

"Florence…"

She kissed him.

Chapter ten

The Cost of Restraint

Matthew

Her mouth was salt and heat and need.

The kiss hit him like a gust of summer breeze. No calculation in it, no practiced seduction. Just raw desperation, her lips parting against his, her fingers tangling in his hair to drag him closer. She kissed him like she was drowning and he was air.

Matthew's control shattered.

He'd held himself in check for days. Watched her, wanted her, told himself all the reasons he couldn't have her. And now she was in his arms, her body pressed against his, her tongue sliding against his own, and every reason dissolved like morning frost.

He kissed her back. Hard. His hand fisted in her hair, tilting her head to deepen the angle, and the sound she made… God, the sound… It went straight to his cock. He was hard already, aching, and they'd barely started.

"Matthew." She gasped his name against his lips. "Please. I need…"

"What?" He pulled back just enough to see her face. Her eyes were wild, her lips swollen, her chest heaving. "Tell me what you need."

"You." Her hands were pulling at his shirt, yanking it free from his trousers. "I need you. I need to feel you."

He should stop. Should put distance between them. Should remember all the reasons this was a mistake.