Gavin couldn’t fault Bailey for being concerned. Of course she would check on her best friend after learning that the man she left to her care came from a family of thugs. It was understandable.
“Gavin?”
“Yeah?”
“Was the man breathing when you left him?”
“Somewhat.” He ruffled his fingers through his hair, back and forth, air drying the surface. “I left him with Eddie and Miser.”
“Does that mean you’re in for the night? Sienna shouldn’t be left alone.”
“You don’t think I know that?” Gavin barked, more out of guilt. “I got this.”
“Good.”
Momentary silence split between them.
“I better go check on Sienna.”
“I would’ve done the same, made that bastard pay,” Lucas said.
Gavin glowered. “You and Sean giving me fucking grief, I know your asses would have.”
“We just wanted you to focus. We know how you can get. Call if you need anything.”
“Sure.” Gavin disconnected. He knew Lucas and Sean, especially Sean, would’ve made sure Dale paid severely. Sean was into mixed martial arts and was a five . . . or six, who the hell knew, degree black belt in Hapkido. Had it been him, Dale wouldn’t have survived his rage, damn certain.
Choosing to go without underwear, he pulled on a pair of light-weight black sweats and a plain white T-shirt, then went to Sienna.
The bed was empty, and the TV was on. Her tray sat at the foot of the bed. She had eaten the soup, but the breadsticks remained.
The bathroom door opened. She stood at the threshold with a hand pressed underneath her left breast over her injury.
“What are you doing out of bed?”
“I needed to brush my teeth.” There was a tightness in her voice, as if she was trying not to breathe.
“You couldn’t wait ten minutes? I said I’d be back.”
A vacant stare for a moment, then she lightly shook her head. “Nah, I’m used to taking care of myself.” Her steps were small, slow going.
He went to her, and with extreme care, lifted and carried her to bed, tucking her beneath the covers. “No more getting out of bed without my help, got it?”
She sighed, but it came out choppy. “Gavin, I don’t need you babying me.”
It was like her to push him away. She was so strong, so beautiful, and so damn stubborn. “Woman, look at you. You can’t even breathe without wincing. You have a cracked rib, and you suffered a severe concussion.” A flashback to Dale’s well-deserved ass-kicking sprung in his head as he pointed at the pills that still lay on the tray. “You need to take your meds.”
She shook her head. “I can’t—”
“Sie-Sie, look, I get it.” He sat down on the edge of the bed and took her hand. “Lucas shared with me the situation about your mother.”
Her stare flared and held his for a long, quiet moment. Glistening dark eyes flickered shut briefly, her vulnerability unmasked. Then, she met his gaze again, her features back in leveled control. “Then you understand why I can’t take them.”
“Sweetness, you won’t become addicted; you’re stronger than that.” He ran a finger over the bandage above her eye. “You’re the most self-disciplined woman I know.” Retrieving the pills along with the half-full glass of ginger ale, he presented the medication to her in his palm.
“Maybe later,” she said.
He wanted to argue, but it would end with him undoubtedly losing the battle.
Placing the pills upon a napkin on the nightstand next to the glass, he picked up the tray and headed out.
“Are you coming back?”
Gavin paused at the door and turned around. There was a look of something in the intensity of her stare he couldn’t quite place. “Right back.”
As he headed to the kitchen, it struck him. Distrust. That’s what he’d seen. It’s what he’d seen as she stood hunched in the doorway of the bathroom as well. He’d left her alone to fend for herself. Shit.
Lucas had shared with him the story she’d told him about how she had to fight off the men her mother would bring home, getting beaten and nearly raped by them, and how her grandmother, who eventually took her in, died just before she graduated from high school. She’d had to deal with things no one should have to go through. He could see trusting and relying on others didn’t come easy to her. He would have to change that.
• • •
The next several days, she slept most of each day away—the medication that he’d insisted she take kept her in a drowsy state. More and more, as the weeks passed, she stayed away from the pills because of it, but continued to appear healthier, stronger.
He had meals ordered in, so he wouldn’t have to leave her side. He helped her bathe, which was no easy task, given that she’d relaxed in his presence to the point that she didn’t mind fully undressing in front of him. For her, it seemed that she viewed him rubbing lotion over her naked body as a clinical act. For him, it was pure torture. He’d learned to say the alphabet backward in his head whenever he tended to her warm, nude flesh. Too bad that trick didn’t work when he’d lie alone in bed as he was now sporting boner number six. Gavin closed his eyes as he shifted his stiff cock in his boxer-briefs. He felt like a goddamn teenager each night when he found himself in need to stroke out his desire. On the upside, it never took long to work himself to completion. He’d close his eyes and instantly her beautiful face would appear, then her supple body, lush and firm. He groaned through a long, shuddering breath, his fingers locking down tight around his shaft as he spilled his semen upon sweat-soaked sheets.
Damn.
Chapter Fifteen
Sienna paused in her channel surfing at the sight of Gavin entering the room carrying a bundle of bath towels. He dropped the load upon the ottoman and commenced folding. Even in his bare feet, plain white T-shirt, and simple basketball shorts, he made her breath catch. A wealth of blond hair that looked damp and styled by a tousle of fingers, blue eyes vibrant and mischievous, strong, angled jaw, muscular, bold build—it all provoked her desires.
She imagined what it would feel like to have his strong hands stroking her body, not in the way he tended to her, but with the kind of caresses that sent hot shockwaves of sensation throughout every nerve-ending, heating her from her core outward.
Picturing his tongue licking her nipples into excruciatingly hard points, and skating down her fevered flesh to her pulsating clit, she clenched her teeth to suppress the sudden moan that crept into her throat as her gaze sketched out his powerful physique. Just then, his head turned, and he caught her staring at him. Thankfully, her lust-filled gaze had already moved up from admiring his perfectly sculptured butt.
Pushing down her rising desire, she aimed the remote at the TV and flipped through the channels with a casual glance his way. “You do laundry? I would never have guessed.”
“I can cook, too.” He winked.
“Sure you can.” Doubtful, she curled her lips. “Boiling water isn’t cooking. Everything we’ve eaten has been from a restaurant.”
“I have a cleaning service, but I’ve suspended the schedule while you’re recuperating . . . didn’t want them to disturb you. And by ordering in, I learn what you like and dislike. Now that I have a pretty good idea of your favorites, I’ll start cooking for you.”
Good gracious, that’s so thoughtful, so sweet. She hadn’t expected such incredible tenderness from him and had to swallow the lump that started to choke her throat. “I was only teasing. You don’t have to cook for me.” He gave her a side-eyed reprimand as he perfected a crease in his fold. “Fine, I won’t say it anymore.” Aiming the remote at the TV again, she asked, “What would you like to watch?”
“It doesn’t matter.” He carried the neatly folded bundle into the bathroom, then returned and started to drag the bulky chair away from the fireplace, something he tended to do each evening.
“Come lie with me.” He stilled, and his head jerke
d sharply to her, his wide-eyed gape fixed. “Or not.” Contemplation showed in his crinkled brow before he rounded to the right of the bed and started to climb on top of the comforter, but she tossed it back and patted the empty, cool space beside her. As he settled in, propping pillows against the headboard, he took care in not unduly disturbing the stillness of the mattress. My goodness, so frickin’ considerate.
“Have you watched Chopped?” she asked.
“Is it a horror movie? I’m down.”
She laughed lightly. “No, but the judges can sometimes be pretty brutal. It’s a show on the Food Network. Amateur chefs compete and are judged on their dishes.” She gave a gesture with the remote at the TV. “See. The concept is similar to the art competition I participated in.”
“You’re no amateur. Your paintings and sculptures made those wannabe artists’ work look like a paint by numbers fun hour.”
She laughed, liking his quick wit, and gave him a playful pinch to his thigh. Wow! It was rock hard. “That’s mean. There were a lot of really good pieces presented.”
“No, there weren’t.” It had been said with finite authority, not expecting a debate. He brought the back of her hand to his lips, offering a gentle kiss—soft and warm against her skin. “Sie-Sie, sweetness, you are an extremely talented artist. Own it.”
Calling her sweetness had become a thing with him. She was starting to like it.
The tips of his fingers brushed along her palm and splayed, lacing his with hers. She glanced up from their joined hands and met his warm gaze. This wasn’t the controlling, infuriating man she’d bickered endlessly with throughout her art tour and who’d flirted with practically every female patron he set his eyes upon. This man was attentive, thoughtful, and excruciatingly sweet. He was almost perfect. But there was still that Kavanagh issue hanging in the wind between them, that he had yet to confront with her.
“Gavin, we need to talk. I haven’t mentioned it these past weeks because I felt so crappy from my injuries. Now that I’m feeling better, I want us to talk about everything, about all of what that agent told me.”
He let out a heavy sigh. “Yes, I know. I just don’t know where to start.”
“Try the beginning.”
They settled into watching the TV program. And they finally talked, talked throughout the entire episode. She learned he’d gone to boarding school around the age of six. It had been where he’d met Lucas, Dax, and Sean—his brothers, he’d referred to them. It had led her to think that he didn’t have any siblings other than Edwin, but then he told her about Dylan and his sister, Caren.
“So, Dylan’s the oldest?”
“Yes, it’s Dylan, me, Caren, and Edwin. Oh, and Abbey—Abela is her name. We sort of adopted her after her parents were burned to death in a fire.”
Sienna gasped a sharp breath, and he looked at her then brought his focus to their linked hands. Her mind took a tailspin downward to that dark foreboding place where the horse’s head resided. She wanted to ask if the fire had been an accident but was afraid of what the answer might be.
“I meant, they died in a fire,” he supplemented quietly, apparently reading her silence. “All Dylan cares about is drawing. Even his wife gets fed up with the amount of attention he pours into it.”
“Your brother’s an artist? I’d love to see his work.”
“Not your kind of art. He’s into graphic art, you know, like for video games and movies. He’s actually pretty good. You know that video game, uh, Sorcerer’s Quest? It came out last year.”
“No, not much into video games.”
“Well, Dylan did a lot of the graphics.”
“That’s pretty awesome. I’ll have to look it up.”
“Awesome, huh?” he grunted. “He needs to step up, that’s what he needs to do. My father wouldn’t be hounding me all the time about taking . . . ” He didn’t continue. Instead, he said, “Now you know all there is to know about me.”
“No, I don’t. For one thing, you didn’t mention your mother. You know about mine; now tell me about yours.”
“My mother divorced my father when I was six. She mostly lives in Ireland. I’d been sent away to school as part of the divorce agreement.”
When he didn’t go on, Sienna cocked her head. “Why? What about your brothers and sister? Did they all get sent away?”
“Just me.”
Expressionless again, he didn’t elaborate, giving nothing away in his gaze. She needed to know more. “Why just you?” And yet another hesitation. He was being selective, she realized. “Gavin, if you don’t want to talk about—”
“My father made my mother choose which of her two sons she would save from him. Edwin was a baby; they shared custody of him until he was thirteen, then he came to live permanently with my father. Edwin wanted it. My mother fought against it at first, but then Edwin became unruly, getting into fights at school and around the neighborhood, so she gave in. Soon after, my sister came over to go to college, then she, too, decided to stay. I think there’s some guy she’s into. She’ll deny it.” He shrugged. “My father wanted full custody of Dylan and me. As a compromise, if you want to call it that, he made my mother choose.”
“She chose you.”
“Yes, because even at six, according to her, I was cunning.”
“I can attest to that,” she teased, and he grinned while his fingers still entwined with hers delivered a light squeeze.
“My mother felt Dylan was mild-tempered, which is one of the reasons my father doesn’t want him to take over the . . . ” Once again, he didn’t go on. A soft sigh left him. “Okay, these interrogation lights are getting kind of warm. Enough talk about me. Have you tried to contact your mother to let her know what happened?”
“Nope.”
“Just nope?”
“Just nope. As long as her debit card reflects a deposit every month, I’m off her radar. So, according to Agent Bryant, your family owns a distillery in Ireland and imports Kavanagh premium whiskey to top restaurants around the world?” Sienna wasn’t about to let him skate away from the subject.
“Yes.”
“But that’s not all they do.” It was purposely stated as fact. “Was any of what Agent Bryant told me about your family true? You’re Gavin Kavanagh?”
He released her hand and fixed his eyes on the TV. “Crane is my mother’s maiden name. It’s my name,” he said in an almost whisper.
“Those guards at the hospital were your father’s men. You ordered them to watch over me. Are you part of your family’s business? And I don’t mean liquor importing.”
“I needed to protect you. I thought that bastard, Dale, might try something.”
He didn’t admit or deny it, not exactly. “Gavin, I—” a tentative caress of a finger swept across her brow where the bandage covered Dale’s mark upon her. Surprisingly, it placated her . . . for a moment. “I’ve had enough drama to last me a lifetime. I don’t need nor want—”
“Sienna, I have no say in the blood that runs through my veins. I didn’t get to choose my family any more than you got to choose yours. But that doesn’t mean we must live the way they do.” He shifted so they faced one another, his stare steady with hers. “I want to be with you. I want to look into your beautiful brown eyes every chance I can,” a gentle finger trailed down the angle of her throat and along the dip in her left shoulder, “explore your body, and learn everything there is to know about you.” He brought her hand to his lips and placed a kiss at the center of her palm before resting it against his cheek’s night scruff. “I suspect you don’t want to hear any of that, especially now that you know who my family is, but it’s how I feel.”
Sienna expelled a shaky breath from both the earnestness she heard in his voice and the hot compelling spark of desire she could see in his eyes.
She felt a strange sense of something she couldn’t quite name, but somehow, she knew that she should drop her wall of defense, take a wild gamble, and trust him.
His head lowered
until his lips brushed feather-light against hers. “I want you,” he whispered before his mouth pressed in, tasting and exploring, altering every thought, every emotion inside her. A hand cradled her nape, and his fingers went into her hair, holding her steady as his tongue snaked deep within with incredible thoroughness.
She settled into his kiss, starved for it, dizzy for it. Her hands took on a will of their own, moving over the corded muscles of his arms and down the hard plane of his chest. A hand went underneath his T-shirt in desperate need to make contact with his chiseled abs, on down, gliding into the waistband of his shorts.
Wow! He wasn’t wearing any underwear. Her fingers gripped his long, thick arousal. Velvety smooth steel filled her palm. Her pussy throbbed from the raw power and promise of pleasure it would surely deliver.
Wanting him on top, she twisted, and winced against his mouth from the pulsing ache that lit her side on fire, and he paused in his kisses, going stiff as a board.
“Don’t stop.” Trying to ignore the pain, she palmed his cheek and tried to draw him back to her, but he resisted.
“We have to stop. You really need to take the pills. It’s been nearly a day since you last took them.” He brought an arm up and rested it behind her head on the pillows. Gentle fingers played in the fine hairs at her nape. “You’ll rest and be pain free.”
With her teeth clenched, Sienna eased onto her back, took a breath to settle the discomfort, then turned her head to look at him. “They say sex releases endorphins that relaxes muscles and subdues aches within the body.”
His blue eyes brightened; a slow smile creased his mouth. “Is that so?”
“It’s what I hear. We can find out.” She wiggled her brows and sent him a full grin of mischief. “Let’s see if the theory is true.”
“I don’t want to hurt you.”
She took his hand and guided it inside her panties, her hand adding pressure to his. Lightly rocking her hips, her eyes shuddered on a moan as the pleasure of his fingers set her core pulsing, then she opened her eyes and met his awestruck gape. His Adam’s apple bobbed rapidly in his throat, his expression shifting from shock, and narrowing to hot carnal desire as she directed his fingers where she needed them most, sliding deep into her wet heat.
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