by Maya Banks
She snuggled back into his arms to his immense satisfaction and then gave a soft sigh, closing her eyes as she pillowed her head on his shoulder.
He lay there awake, long after she finally drifted into a dreamless sleep. Staring up at the ceiling as he pondered the puzzle that was Kylie Breckenridge. What was he going to do with her?
He knew he couldn’t walk away from her. He didn’t fool himself into thinking things would miraculously change after one night. If anything she’d be more determined than ever that he’d never see her at her most vulnerable again.
Somehow, some way, he had to break past those barriers. Bust them down for good and insert himself in her heart and soul. He’d already decided that she was well worth the fight, and he knew it would be a fight indeed.
But he wouldn’t give up. Kylie was stubborn. Proud. Defiant. But he was every bit as stubborn and determined as she was. For the first time in her life, she’d met her match in him. Because he sure as hell wasn’t giving up. This was one battle he would win, no matter the cost.
SIX
KYLIE awoke to a completely alien sensation. She laid there, trying to process just what was different. She felt . . . rested. No lingering darkness from nightmares. She felt . . . safe.
It was then she registered the fact that she was not alone in her bed. Not only was she not alone, but a very male, very hard body was wrapped protectively around her and her head was pillowed on a muscled shoulder.
Jensen.
Oh God.
Memories from the night before—humiliating memories—crashed through her mind like a landslide. She’d made an utter ass of herself. Completely fallen apart on him. For God’s sake, she’d handcuffed him to her bed.
“Remember your promise, Kylie.”
His soft voice rumbled from his chest, bringing with it another reminder of the hastily given promise not to regret. Not to be ashamed or embarrassed. Not to freak out. She didn’t have a prayer of keeping the promise because everything about this situation completely freaked her out.
“What time is it?” she croaked out. A perfectly neutral question, one that would remind them both that they had important matters this morning that had nothing to do with the fact they were in bed. Together.
“It’s only six,” he said in that infuriatingly calm voice of his. He sounded completely unruffled by the fact they were wrapped up like two lovebugs.
“You want coffee?” she asked even as she pushed herself up and away, putting distance between them.
He smiled, almost as if he knew her utter panic. “Coffee would be nice. I’ll have a cup and then head over to my place to shower and change. Then I’ll run back by and pick you up.”
“There’s no need,” she said hastily. “I can just meet you there.”
“You forget you’re without a vehicle,” he pointed out. “Besides, I thought we’d have lunch after and discuss the results of the meeting. Then I’ll run you by the restaurant to get your car.”
He made it sound like business, all business, but she knew differently. There was a tone to his voice that had been absent until now. Somehow more intimate and . . . tender. He looked at her so tenderly it made her heart ache. And made her even more desperate to increase the distance between them.
She slid to the edge of the bed and got up, going to her closet to get her robe. Her pajamas more than adequately covered her but she still felt vulnerable and she wanted—needed—that extra barrier of clothing.
“I’ll have the coffee ready in a few minutes,” she muttered. “Take your time. Feel free to make use of the bathroom.”
She turned before she could see his expression, that knowing smile. Her world felt tilted on its axis. She had no idea what to make of this abrupt shift in their relationship. What relationship? He was her boss. Well, one of them. She was his employee. Certainly not his bed partner even if he’d spent the night, part of the night, handcuffed to her bed.
Heat rushed like fire through her cheeks. God, how humiliating. What kind of freak did it make her that she’d handcuffed a man to her bed? How weak did it make her that she’d actually needed it to feel safe? And weaker still, because in the throes of a nightmare, she’d wrenched his arm free so he could hold her.
Jensen Tucker had held her, had wrapped himself completely around her the entire night, and God help her, she’d loved every minute of it. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d slept so peacefully. That she’d felt absolutely safe. After that first nightmare, when he’d pulled her into his arms, she’d fallen into a deep, dreamless sleep, completely unbothered by the demons that taunted her on a regular basis. Who needed therapy? Apparently all she needed was Jensen Tucker’s strong embrace. Not that she’d ever admit that to him. It would only give him that much more power over her, and she’d vowed never to give anyone that kind of power over her. Never again.
She busied herself making the coffee, her thoughts chaotic and unbalanced. He made her that way. What the hell did he want from her? He’d all but staked his claim. Some of the things he’d said she was still grappling with. Had no idea of their meaning. Or perhaps she knew only too well and was too chickenshit to deal with them with her big girl pants on.
But why did he seem to want her? Why would he even care? She was one hot mess. A head case. And worse, he knew it. Calmly accepted it like it was the most normal thing in the world. He’d inserted himself as her . . . protector? He certainly seemed to accept the role. Even embraced it. He’d made no bones about the fact that they were, what had he said? Inevitable?
He was as crazy as she was apparently. Two hot-mess head cases? Surely a recipe for disaster. He was strong. She was weak. Not the ingredients for a successful relationship for sure. And he was a control freak. She knew that much about him. His world was meticulously well-ordered. No chaos. No messes. He was every bit as dominant as Tate and Dash were, no matter that he said he was nothing like them. He hadn’t seemed to like the comparison, but then she could understand why. He was definitely a law unto himself. There were certainly no two Jensen Tuckers. God help her. One was enough. More than enough.
He came in a few moments later and her gaze flitted to him, taking in his rumpled appearance. The fact that he was still wearing the same clothes from the night before. But even wrinkled and unkempt the man was just damn sexy.
She could admit that to herself now. Hell, she’d spent the night with him. No, they hadn’t had sex, but in many ways, what they’d experienced was far more intimate than sex. He’d simply offered her comfort. What she’d needed the most. She would not be an ungrateful bitch even if that was her instinctual, self-protective reaction. Her reaction to anything that could possibly hurt her.
She could see that about herself. She could see herself as others likely did and what she saw made her cringe. It was a miracle she had any friends left because God knew she hadn’t been a very good friend herself. But she could change that. Starting now. She could bend without breaking. It was time to start returning the unconditional love and support her friends had offered her since Carson died.
She’d been so wrapped up in her own grief and misery that she’d become a selfish bitch. She didn’t like herself very much, and if she didn’t like herself, how could she expect others to like her? Why the hell did Jensen seem to like her? She certainly hadn’t been remotely receptive to any of his overtures. She’d returned every kindness he’d offered her with blatant rudeness. And yet he’d stayed with her last night, offering unconditional, unquestioning support. Why?
Was he a masochist?
He sat down at the bar and she pushed a cup of coffee in his direction. For a moment there was an awkward silence between them but then she gathered her courage and took the bull by the horns.
“Thank you for last night,” she said in a low voice. “It meant . . . a lot. You didn’t have to do it, but I’m grateful you did. That you . . . stayed. Thank you.”
His eyes were warm as he stared at her, his gaze stroking her face as surely as i
f he’d reached out and touched her with his hand. She almost wished he would. Touch her. Her skin came alive at the mere thought and her thoughts drifted to the night before. Of how wonderful it had felt to be in his arms, surrounded by his strength and the unspoken promise that nothing would hurt her while he was with her.
“You’re welcome, Kylie. I’m glad I was here so you didn’t have to suffer alone as you do many other nights, I’m sure.”
She flushed, not even bothering to deny it. He’d know she was lying.
“You going to have a cup?” he asked, his gaze taking in the fact she hadn’t poured herself any coffee.
She shook her head. “No. I’m jittery enough. Caffeine would only make it worse.”
“Do I make you that nervous?” he asked mildly. “Surely after last night you realize I’m not a monster.”
She felt the betraying heat creep up her neck again. “No, I don’t think that at all,” she said softly. “This is just . . . uncomfortable for me. You have to understand. I don’t allow others to see me as you saw me last night. It bothers me. I feel . . . vulnerable, and I hate that feeling.”
He set his mug down and reached across the bar to take her hand. “I don’t want to make you feel that way, baby. I want you to feel just the opposite. You can be yourself with me. I understand you. Far better than you realize. We all have our demons to battle. You aren’t alone.”
She cocked her head, curious at the odd note in his voice. “And what are your demons, Jensen?”
His face tightened and his eyes became shuttered. She instantly regretted the innocent question, but then he’d seen her at her worst. Wasn’t she entitled to know something about him? Something that made him vulnerable?
He checked his watch, effectively dodging her question. “I need to get going if I’m going to get back in time for us to make our meeting. Will half an hour be enough time for you to get ready?”
She nodded.
He got up and to her surprise walked around to where she stood and pulled her into his arms. He kissed her. Softly. Just a brush of his lips against hers, but she felt the warmth all the way to her toes. Her entire body tingled. Her breasts became heavy and aching, her nipples straining outward. She was grateful that the robe disguised her reaction to such a simple kiss.
“I’ll be back soon,” he murmured.
And then he turned and strode out of her kitchen, the front door opening and closing as he walked out.
She stood there a long time, her fingers fluttering to her still-tingling mouth. What the hell had just happened here? Last night? The entire episode? How in the hell had their relationship taken such a dramatic turn?
She shook herself out of her stupor and headed for the bathroom to shower and ready herself for the meeting with S&G. This was important. Her chance to prove herself. Jensen believed in her. She believed in herself. Perhaps for the first time in her life. And she wasn’t going to let either him or herself down.
SEVEN
“YOU did very well today, Kylie. I’m very proud of you,” Jensen said as they took their seats at the Lux Café. “The CFO was very impressed with your recommendations. I’d say we’re a shoo-in for the contract.”
Kylie flushed with pleasure and ducked her head, but she knew her eyes glowed with happiness. Her stomach had been tied in knots for the entire meeting, especially when Jensen had let her take the lead and make the presentation. He’d sat back, a bystander, as Kylie had outlined their suggestions for minimizing costs to the corporation.
It had shocked the hell out of her that he’d given her control over such an important meeting. This was a huge contract for him and Dash. Dash would likely have a heart attack if he knew just how much leeway Jensen had given her in this meeting.
But after a shaky start, and with Jensen’s confidence in her evident in his gaze, she’d taken control and had crisply and efficiently delivered their recommendations to the CFO.
“Thank you,” she said honestly. “For giving me this chance, I mean. It means a lot to me. I had no idea I could do it. I was scared to death.”
“It didn’t show, though,” he said. “You oozed confidence. You had the CFO in the palm of your hand. Hell, he’d have probably eaten out of it. He was hanging on your every word. I was tempted to knee him in the balls if he didn’t keep his damn tongue in his mouth.”
She frowned. “So you think he was so attentive because I’m a woman?”
Jensen laughed. “No, I think he was attentive because you are an extremely intelligent, well put together, beautiful woman. Make no mistake, Kylie. Your looks certainly don’t hurt, but no businessman worth his salt is going to make such a huge decision based on sexual attraction. He may have enjoyed the view, but you damn well got his attention because of your intelligence and attention to detail.”
Feeling somewhat mollified, she relaxed in her seat as the waiter approached to take their order.
“You have nothing to prove, Kylie,” he said in a soft voice once the waiter drifted away. “The only person who doesn’t believe in you is you.”
She dropped her gaze because he was right. She didn’t have the confidence she should. But damn it, she wanted it. Wanted it so badly she could taste it. She wanted to take on the world and grab on with both hands. Wanted to be someone unafraid to walk into a room like she owned it. But she’d learned from a very young age to be as unassuming as possible and to draw as little attention to herself as possible. It was a matter of survival. Of self-preservation.
As if reading her thoughts, he reached across the table and twined their fingers together. What did it say about her that it no longer startled her when he touched her? That she’d come to like it. Crave it even.
“You’ll get there, baby. It won’t happen overnight, but you’ll get there. I see inside you to the real you. I know she’s there just waiting to break free. And she will. One day.”
“How is it you know so much about me?” she whispered. “Things I don’t even know myself? You haven’t worked with Dash that long.”
He smiled. “I watch people. I study them. It’s helpful in my line of work and, well, in life, for that matter. I’m good at reading people. Knowing when they’re sincere and when they’re just bullshitting me. And my instincts tell me that you’re a fierce, brave woman who’s faced a hell of a lot of adversity in her life but who’s come out stronger for it.”
She laughed, the sound brittle and not at all joyful. “Stronger? I disagree there. I’m scared of my own shadow. Or did you forget that I handcuffed you to the bed last night?”
His expression grew tender. She’d grown to love the way his eyes warmed when he looked at her just so.
“And yet you took them off,” he pointed out. “You trusted me enough to take them off when you were at your most vulnerable. I’d say that was very brave of you.”
She flushed because he had a way of turning around every argument she posed. Made what she deemed as weaknesses, strengths. If only she had as much confidence in herself as he apparently did.
“I’d like to take you to dinner tomorrow night,” he said casually. “And not a business dinner. A date. You, me, no office talk. Just us and we see where this takes us.”
“There is no us,” she blurted, stunned by his invitation.
He arched an eyebrow. “I spent last night in your bed, baby. I’d say that makes us something.”
“You didn’t give me a choice!” she sputtered. “That’s hardly the basis of a date!”
He smiled. “So forget last night then if it bothers you so much. But you know and I know that I’ll be back there. It’s only a matter of time.”
Her throat threatened to close off. She could barely breathe around the knot growing larger by the second. This man thoroughly intimidated her. She found it telling that he didn’t scare her. Not physically. She knew in her bones that he’d never lift a finger to her. It seemed to enrage him, the thought of anyone or anything hurting her. But there were other kinds of hurts. Some more painful th
an even the physical kind.
“I won’t play games with you,” she whispered.
His eyes lost the playful, flirty glimmer and his expression grew suddenly fierce and very serious.
“This is no goddamn game, Kylie. Not to me. Never to me. You are not a game. You aren’t a challenge, a notch on my bedpost. I don’t fuck around. I haven’t fucked my way through countless women and I’m not some bored bastard who sees getting with you as a victory.”
She was speechless. Utterly speechless. Her hands shook so hard that she had to put her water glass down because liquid sloshed over the rim, spilling onto the table.
“What do you want from me?” she croaked.
His gaze was direct and unflinching. Grim and unrelenting.
“You. Just you, Kylie. And everything you have to give.”
She was light-headed from holding her breath for so long and she forced herself to breathe as spots appeared in her vision. She had to hold it together and not melt down right in the middle of the restaurant.
“I don’t have anything to give you,” she said softly.
For some reason the starkness of her statement made her want to cry. Tears burned her eyelids but she refused to let them fall. She had nothing to offer this man. Any man. But certainly not someone like Jensen who could have any woman he wanted. Who would never have to look far for female companionship. There was probably a line outside his bedroom door.
“You’re wrong,” he said just as softly.
He didn’t expound. Just kept staring at her with that intense gaze, his eyes never leaving her face, taking in every thought, every reaction. She was certain he could see the tears glittering in her eyes, burning, begging to fall free. She swallowed hard, her head aching with the effort not to allow him to see how affected she was by . . . him.
But he knew. Damn the man, he knew. At least he wasn’t smug. He didn’t look triumphant. He just stared tenderly at her, like he always did, as if he knew exactly the battle she waged with herself. Saw every fear. Heard every doubt. And yet he still wanted her.
It baffled and awed her all at the same time.
“It’s just a date,” he said mildly. “Dinner. Maybe a movie. We could rent something and relax on the couch. I won’t try and get into your pants. Yet,” he added with a sly grin.
His teasing should infuriate her, but she was grateful because his levity took the burn from her eyes and lessened her need to weep.
It was just dinner. What was the harm? Even as she asked that stupid question she knew the answer. Giving in to him would be like opening the gates to an invading army. Give him an inch and he’d take the whole bloody mile.
“You’re starting to bruise my ego,” he said dryly. “Surely I’m not so terrible.”
“No,” she said quietly, not willing to let him think so. He’d done too much for her. Been too kind, understanding. He’d seen her at her worst. How could she ever think he was horrible?
“Well, that’s something,” he said, breathing out with exaggerated relief. “Now, about dinner. I promise not to take you back to the place that caters to rich old farts. Is it a date?”
She laughed, unable to prevent her reaction to him. He could be quite charming when he wasn’t all broody and intense—which was most of the time. Why was it she thought that she was the only person who saw this side of him? It was awfully egotistical of her to assume and yet the thought took hold and wouldn’t go away. She’d seen the way he was with others. Polite, but distant. Observant. Ever watchful.
“All right,” she finally conceded.
She’d vowed she was through being a coward, and to turn him down would be the height of cowardice. Especially after last night. She refused to tuck tail and run even if that’s what her instincts were screaming at her to do. But it was time to start refashioning her outlook on life and stop cowering at the least bit of conflict. She couldn’t avoid the rest of the world forever. Perhaps going out with Jensen would give her back a little of herself in the process.
Or maybe she’d end up losing every part of herself to him.
“Oh crap,” she murmured, her eyes closing.
“What?”
She reopened them, hoping he could see how earnest she was. “I can’t go to dinner with you Friday night.”
He frowned. “Why not?”
She sighed. “I promised to have dinner with Chessy. Tate is entertaining an important client and with Joss gone, she’s been lonely. I can’t ditch her, Jensen. Tate’s been so busy with work and I worry about her.”
Jensen smiled at her. “You’re a very loyal friend. She’s lucky to have you. I’ll let you off the hook if you’ll give me Saturday night.”
Relief rushed through her veins. “Deal.”
“Perfect then. I’ll pick you up at six thirty. Dress casual. You want to watch movies at your place or mine?”
It was stupid that panic frayed her nerves at the idea of being in Jensen’s space. Of being alone with him in his home. He’d been alone with her in hers! Hell, he’d slept in her bed, wrapped solidly around her.
“My place,” she said quickly, hoping he didn’t pick up on that sudden surge of panic and take it personally.
But he only smiled that same damn smile that told her he knew exactly what she was thinking and feeling.
