Jill Shalvis - Back In The Bedroom

“Ah.” He didn’t want to think about why that made him feel a lot better, so he closed his eyes again.

A thunk sounded and with a sigh, he cracked open an eye. Looking small and defenseless, she’d sat on the floor against the far wall, beside the locked door, still hugging herself. Her knees were up, her head down on her arms.

Fine. That was a good place for her, far away from him, with her mouth thankfully shut for once.

He might have been able to pretend he was somewhere else other than lying on a damn cot with no clothes and a bump on the back of his head…if she hadn’t shivered.

He closed his eyes against it but he could have sworn he could hear her teeth rattling together. “Damn it. Get over here.”

She lifted her head, and in the glow from the light outside the window, he saw her expression. Gone was the temporary bravado. Gone were all signs that she was holding up under what even he could admit had been a fairly traumatizing experience. Wet now, her eyes were the color of rain-soaked leaves, and her mouth trembled. The bruises on her throat had blossomed.

Hell. “You all right?”

“Give me a minute.” She scrubbed her hands over her face. “I know I’m talking, talking, talking, but that’s nerves and fear. I’ll try to stop, I promise.”

Slowly he sat up. No dizziness, which he figured was a good thing, so he risked standing. Barefoot, bare everything except the essentials, he took the few steps that brought him close. “You take the cot.”

She stared at his knees and shook her head.

“Tessa.”

She ignored him. Since he’d been trying to ignore her for half an hour now, he understood and appreciated the sentiment. But it was possible she was going into delayed shock, and that even he couldn’t ignore, as his training was too ingrained. He hunkered down beside her and, wanting to check her pulse, reached for her wrist.

Startled, she jerked back and into the wall, crying out at the contact and wincing away from him at the same time.

“Go away,” she whispered, mortified to find her eyes spilling over. But he’d scared her, and she really hated that. Before tonight, nothing had scared her.

“Hey.” Lifting his hands, watching her from those light, light eyes, he spoke softly. “It’s just me.”

“I know.” And she did, but it was just that for one bad moment, she’d been transported back into Eddie’s living room, back to that guy in the dirty long underwear shirt, and he’d been reaching for her-

Reilly took her hand. “Just me,” he repeated very quietly.

“I know that.”

“I want you to lie down and try to relax.”

“Relax.” She bit back her hysterical laughter. “Sure. I’ll relax.”

“Great, because you’re wound up tighter than a clock.”

“Yes, well, this hasn’t been exactly a good day.”

“I know.” He contemplated her in silence for a while. “Are you cold?”

Yes. She was cold. And hungry. And tired. And, apparently, letting this whole situation really get to her.

“Come on,” he said. Still on his knees before her, he wriggled his fingers, clearly indicating she could take his hand.

Tessa closed her eyes. She didn’t want to take his hand. She wanted to crawl in a hole and have a meltdown. She wanted to be alone while doing it, thank you very much. “Go to sleep,” she said.

“I can’t do that now,” said the contrary man.

Of course not. Because heaven forbid one thing go her way tonight.

“TESSA, COME ON. Lie down.”

Only a moment ago she’d been holding it together just fine, and then Reilly had to come close with that long, sleekly muscled body glowing in the faint light and go all sweet and sensitive on her.

Ha! As if he could ever even pretend to be sweet and sensitive.

“Come on,” he said gently. Gently.

Didn’t he know that was how to break a woman down-show a tender insight and perception, along with near nudity so magnificent it made her mouth water?

“Tessa?”

And the way he said her name in that low, husky voice… It brought to mind hot summer nights and satin sheets and wild but sweet lovemaking.

Not that she knew much about hot summer nights combined with satin sheets and wild but sweet lovemaking, but a girl had her fantasies.

And he was a walking fantasy.

Taking her hand in his, he rose. “Up you go.” He led her to the cot with a hand at the small of her back. As if he was kind and compassionate. “Lie down right here.”

No questions at the end of his sentences, not for Reilly. Nope, he never said, “Okay?” or “Would you like?” He was a guy, through and through, and an extremely confident one at that. Not to mention demanding, because really, why ask when clearly he knew everything?

“Tess. Lie down.”

He shortened her name. No one else had ever done that, and it seemed…extremely intimate, and on his lips, almost unbearably sexy.

Suddenly the room felt so small, too small. She needed wide open space and she needed it now. Forget adventure, had she ever said she wanted adventure like this? No! She wanted her cozy little apartment, her sister’s nightly visit bearing ice cream and a good movie. Maybe a call from her brother just to say hi.

“Sit.”

She shivered again-what was the matter with her? She was safe, she was fine, and now she was going to fall apart? But she sat on the cot. It wasn’t as soft as it looked, and didn’t have any covers on it. “I don’t understand this room,” she said, and shivered again, knowing she was talking out of nervous reaction, but unable to help herself. “The rest of the house is so beautiful and warm and comfortable.”

Reilly looked around him and shrugged. “For all Eddie’s wild and extravagant living, he doesn’t like servants-it’s the subservient thing, I guess. At least ones who don’t sleep in his bedroom. Fixing this room would be a waste of his time, he probably never even uses it.”

He talked about Eddie as though he didn’t like him. She didn’t understand that either. “Your father is a wonderful man.”

“What does that have to do with the fact he goes through women like some of us go through water?”

Since she couldn’t deny that, she lay down and curled on her side facing away from him. “I’m not a bed hog. You can have half.”

“It’s not big enough.”

Fine. No skin off her nose. Tessa planned to lie there and wait for dawn, but the late hour, combined with her heavy workweek, not to mention the evening’s events, had taken a greater toll than she’d imagined, and miraculously, she drifted off…

Only to dream about being grabbed from behind, about the thick, muscled forearm cutting off her air-

She jerked straight off the cot and gasped for the breath to scream but when she blinked into focus the small, rather dark room and the silent man standing there propping up the far wall, she sagged.

“Just a dream,” he said.

Imagine that.

“Go back to sleep.”

Right. She sat down, and realized she was chilled to the bone.

“Sleep,” he said. “Not sit.”

“I’m cold.”

He tipped his head back and glanced at the ceiling as if seeking divine intervention. He moved forward until his knees bumped the cot. “There’s no blanket.”

“No.” She wrapped her arms around herself and kept her eyes straight ahead, which landed them…oh, only about eye level with the best-looking male stomach ever.

“Lie down.”

She had no idea why she obeyed him, but with another shiver, she did, and then went flat onto her back, where she held her breath as he lowered himself onto the cot as well. He lay on his side facing her. He held up his head with his hand, setting his other very lightly on her stomach.