She didn’t speak, simply staring at him, then she put her hands on the arms of the chair and pushed herself out of it. And he was conscious of a hollow feeling growing inside him, a loss, an absence. And that the absence had a shape. And that the shape was her.
She was leaving, like he’d told her, and now his life would go back to normal.
Normal? Fuck, you’re an idiot. It’ll never be the same again. It’ll be darker. Lonelier. Safer.
The glass in his hand creaked as his grip tightened. Why was he thinking this shit? This was what he’d wanted, wasn’t it?
Yet Faith didn’t walk out.
She came toward him instead, moving slowly and with purpose, her midnight eyes glowing, until she was right in front of him.
He’d never been the kind of man who retreated from a fight for any reason, but he found himself almost taking a step back now.
She was so close. All feminine heat and the scent of lavender, the pulse at the base of her throat, where the phoenix rested, beating fast.
You’re fucked.
He took a breath, trying not to crack the glass he was holding.
“Is that what you really want?” The question was soft, her gaze searching.
“Yes.” It took all his considerable will to stand still, to beat down Jake Foster, who wanted him to toss aside the stupid brandy and take her in his arms. Hold her. Never let her go.
“You’ve never lied to me before,” Faith said. “But I think you lied to me earlier at HQ. And I think you’re lying now.”
It was nothing. A simple question from a woman who’d been lied to and betrayed many times in the past. And it would have been so easy for him to tell her he wasn’t lying. That of course leaving was what he wanted.
But that wasn’t what happened.
It was as if the question were a lighted match to a tank of gas and he simply went up in flames, the cage he had on Jake Foster cracking, all the rage he had inside him exploding outward.
Hardly aware of what he was doing, he flung the brandy glass at the wall where it shattered, liquid splashing everywhere. But he didn’t look at it. Instead he took Faith by her upper arms, propelling her back until she hit the windows, and he held her there, his heart feeling like a grenade about to go off.
Faith only looked at him. There was no fear in her eyes. It was as if she knew exactly what was going on with him.
“I have lost everything I ever loved,” he said hoarsely, too loud and too rough, words spilling out of him, words he’d never meant to say. “Everything!” He gave her a little shake, to emphasize his point, make her see. “My family, my home. The person I thought I was. Every single fucking thing!” He dug his fingers into her upper arms, lowering his head until her face was inches from his, her blue eyes filling his vision. “I’m not doing it again. I can never keep what’s mine. Never. It’s easier not to have it.” He bared his teeth, fury alive in his veins, the truth coming out whether he wanted it to or not. “Yes, I lied to you back at HQ. And if that makes me a coward, then yes, I’m a fucking coward. But no one else is there to protect me, so I have to. I have to fucking protect myself!”
He was breathing fast and hard, the sound of it hoarse in the room, while she looked at him, her face full of something he couldn’t bear.
He wanted to push away and push away hard, take himself out of her vicinity before he did something he regretted, but before he could move, her hand came up, delicate fingers cupping his cheek.
“You’re wrong,” Faith said. “You have me. I’ll protect you, Jacob.”
It was like that touch was a knife, cutting through his soul.
“No,” he said roughly. “You’re too vulnerable. You’ve lost so much and you’re—”
“We’ve both lost too much.” Her voice sliced through his effortlessly. “And we’re both too vulnerable. But why can’t we be vulnerable together? Why can’t we protect each other?”
Deep inside him, the part of him that was Jake Foster shuddered. Howled. And then went quiet.
For the first time in his life, Jacob truly felt the fear.
He was afraid of this woman who seemed to be two people and yet wasn’t. Who had armor and yet who’d survived six months without that armor. Who’d lost her whole identity and yet had learned to live without it. Be at peace with it.
He couldn’t. How could he ever be at peace with Jake Foster? The angry boy who’d failed to protect his brother and had ended up getting them split apart. The isolated, sullen teen who’d withdrawn into himself, nurturing his anger until he was finally able to let it out safely, in the Navy. The furious man desperate to release that anger on the enemy. Any enemy . . .
Under her armor, Faith Beasley was a loving, warmhearted, caring woman. Under his was darkness. Rage. Nothing good.
He hadn’t lied about one thing back at HQ. She might deserve to get what she wanted, but he didn’t.
“I can’t,” he bit out. “I fucking can’t. The man I was is dangerous. I told you, Jacob Night is the cage I need to—”
“I didn’t come here for Jacob Night,” Faith interrupted. “I came for Jake Foster.”
It felt like he’d taken a crossbow bolt straight to the chest, knocking him down.
Piece by piece he’d lost his family. First his father, then his mother. Then his brother. Everyone who’d ever known him and loved him. He’d used to fantasize that his father hadn’t gone missing, presumed dead. That he was alive and one day he’d come back. One day he’d find Jacob and bring him home. But that had never happened.
No one had ever come for him. No one.
And he’d come to think that there was a reason for that.
No one wants you . . .
“You don’t fucking know Jake Foster.” His voice was scraped raw.
Her fingers were cool on his skin, gentle. Unlike his as they gripped her, pushing her against the glass. “I do. He’s angry, yes, but only because he cares. And that’s why he’s so very, very angry. Because he cares so very deeply.” She touched his mouth. “He’s a protector and it hurts when he can’t protect the people he cares about the way he should. He blames himself. Because it matters.”
His rage shifted inside him, howled. Like a beast.
She’s right. And you know why you’re angry.
“Faith,” he said desperately. “It’s not that simple.”
She ignored him. “You’ve been alone a long time, haven’t you?” Her voice had gotten thick and there were tears in her eyes, and she was touching him as if he was precious to her. “And you want to belong to someone, I can see it in your eyes, Jake. You want to belong to me.”
He felt like he was falling into pieces, like a pane of glass slowly cracking, and each piece was jagged and sharp, lethal to anyone they cut.
Except she wasn’t being hurt. She was the one hurting him. Giving him visions of what he wanted. What he’d always so desperately wanted.
His throat was tight, his chest sore. And he couldn’t breathe. Why couldn’t he fucking breathe? Why couldn’t he let her go and walk away the way he should?
He’d learned a long time ago to deny himself the things he wanted so this shouldn’t be difficult. And yet . . . Belonging to her . . .
“You don’t understand,” he ground out.
“Of course I understand. You think I haven’t denied myself? That I haven’t done exactly the same thing? You know what I wanted to be as a kid, I told you. I wanted to be a princess.” A tear slid down her cheek, glittering in the light. “But I thought I could never have it, that I didn’t deserve it. Until you told me that I already was a princess, a warrior princess. And that you’d give me everything I wanted.” She searched his face. “I believed you back in HQ. I believed you when you said that maybe neither of us deserved anything. But you lied. The first lie you ever told me.”
Ah, Christ.
“Faith—”
“I know. I get it. You were afraid. And then I realized something. I realized that it didn’t matter wheth
er you thought I deserved it or not. What matters is that I believe it. And I do, Jake. I believe I deserve to have what I want. And I believe that you do too.”
He struggled to get a breath, to get some air in his fucking lungs. “It’s not the same. You do deserve those things. But I . . .”
“It is the same.” Her fingers moved into his hair, stroking. “I’ve done bad things, like you have. I’ve killed people. Hurt people. But I’m not a bad person, I’m not. And neither are you.”
How could he argue with that? With the belief that shone in her eyes?
His chest heaved and he pressed her harder against the glass, wanting to deny it with everything in him. Except he couldn’t, not without hurting her.
“Damn you,” he whispered.
Her fingers curled in his hair. “It’s not your fault, Jake. None of it is your fault. Your dad, your mom, Josh . . . They would never have left you if they’d had the choice, you know that. You were a kid and it was all just shitty, shitty luck.”
“Stop,” he said, his voice shaking. “Fucking shut up.”
But she didn’t. She just kept on going. “I think . . . I’m in love with you. That’s what I came here to say. And also that if I’m a warrior princess, then I get what I want. And I want a prince.”
“Faith—”
Her fingers tightened, the hold on his hair painful. “No, you don’t get to tell me you’re not my prince. I’m the one who makes that decision. And if I decide you’re my fucking prince, then you are.” Her blue eyes glowed, fierce and hot. “I need a strong man at my side. I need a good man. An honest man. A caring man. And you’re all those things, Jake Foster. You’re every single one. And if you can’t believe that for yourself, then believe me. Trust me.”
He didn’t know what happened inside him. Whether those cracked, jagged pieces of himself simply shattered completely or whether they simply ceased to exist at all.
But he was suddenly tired. Tired of fighting himself. Tired of the guilt and the pain. Tired of the rage. Tired of pretending he didn’t care when he did.
He cared too fucking much.
She hadn’t gone when he’d told her to and more, she’d come back. The only person who’d ever come back for him in his entire goddamn life.
He couldn’t resist that. Couldn’t tell her she didn’t deserve to have what she wanted, because she did. Couldn’t tell her he didn’t trust her either, because he did. And if that meant accepting that she was right, that he did deserve to have what he wanted too, then maybe he’d just have to suck it up.
Whatever the case, the longing inside him was getting too big to ignore. Too wide. Too deep. Too intense.
He wanted her. She was his.
And even though he wasn’t all the things she’d said he was, she’d come back for him anyway, which meant that maybe, despite that, he deserved to be hers after all.
Maybe there was room in his heart for more than rage, too.
Jacob bent his head and covered her beautiful mouth, kissing her with a desperation he’d never allowed himself. A hunger that he couldn’t keep inside any longer.
Her fingers knotted in his hair and she was kissing him back, just as desperately, just as hard. And it wasn’t enough. He wanted her closer, he wanted her next to him, skin on skin. Wanted to be inside her, part of her.
Tearing his mouth from hers, he grabbed her shirt, pulling it up and over her head, his hands shaking with the effort to be gentle since she was still all bandaged up. She had no such issues, pulling at his clothing roughly, demanding.
By the time they were both naked, they were panting, shaking. There was no time to get to his bedroom, no time for anything but to get close, as close as they could. As close as two people could be.
He rolled down a condom and lifted her against the glass, his hands sliding beneath her taut ass, holding her. She needed no prompting to wind her legs around his hips, hers tilting back to receive him, and then he was pushing inside her, her pussy clenching around his cock, squeezing him.
Bringing him home.
He pinned her to the window, found her mouth, hungry and desperate. And he moved, hard, deep. Burying all his anger and his pain, burying his loneliness, letting it all just disappear, crushed into dust by the weight of the pleasure, by her heat, by the feel of her arms around him, holding him.
He kissed her and he kissed her, and then he tore his mouth away, looking down into her eyes, holding her gaze. Watching the pleasure build, letting her see how it built in him, too, and then, as they fell into ecstasy together, he whispered, “You win, Ms. Beasley. I’m yours.”
* * *
She held him tight, the glass cool at her back, his body a furnace at her front and between her thighs. His face was buried in her neck, his breath warm on her skin, and she didn’t want to move. Didn’t want to let him go.
This stubborn, forceful, powerful man. Who was nevertheless also angry and lonely and in pain.
The man she’d been in love with for a while now and hadn’t realized it. Not until he’d pinned her against the glass, fury and desperation in his eyes, his own vulnerability laid bare in that moment.
She’d known then that she’d do anything to take his pain away, make him feel better. Make him feel good. That she’d fight for him. That she’d die for him. That she’d never walk away from him.
That feeling unfurled inside her now, fierce and hot, a pressure in her chest, and she embraced it, held tight to it, the way she was holding him.
He was hers. And she would never let him go.
Eventually though, he lifted his head and moved, pulling out of her to deal with the condom. Even then she didn’t want to release him and it wasn’t until he whispered to her that he wasn’t going anywhere that she allowed him to gather her in his arms and take her over to the long sofa upholstered in soft, battered brown leather, laying her on it and following her down.
Then he pushed her beneath him, wrapping her up in his arms, surrounding her.
“You better not still be leaving,” she said fiercely, looking up into his depthless black eyes. “Because if you do, after that, I’ll hunt you down and kill you.”
“So bloodthirsty.” His mouth curved. “I’m almost tempted just to see if you’d do it.”
Faith dug her fingers into the hard muscle of his chest. “You do and I’ll—”
“Settle down,” he interrupted gently, before she could finish. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Her heart pressed painfully against her ribs, but it was a good pain, a sweet pain. She spread her fingers out on the oiled silk of his skin, loving the feel of it. “I thought you never changed your mind.”
“I don’t. Seems you engineered a miracle.”
“How?”
“You came back for me.” His arms tightened around her, the look in his eyes becoming fierce. “No one’s ever come back for me, sweet girl. No one but you.”
Her eyes prickled with tears. Because of course no one had. He’d lost people and had never regained them.
“Are you sure this is what you want?” She had to force the question out, because she didn’t want to ask. But she had to know.
The slight curve of his mouth became a smile that set something inside her on fire. “Yes. Absolutely fucking sure.”
“Jake . . .”
“You stood up to me. You fought me. And then you fought for me.” He shifted so one long-fingered hand could touch her cheekbone. “That changed everything.” The fierce expression in his eyes intensified. “You’re everything I ever wanted in a woman. Strong. Brave. Challenging. Yet you gave me your trust and your vulnerability without even a second’s thought. That’s a gift, Faith. And I can’t throw that gift away. I don’t want to throw it away.”
Her heart was full, the tears in her eyes sliding down her cheeks and she let them, her throat too tight to speak.
“You were right,” he went on softly. “I was a coward. I thought I was afraid of hurting you, but it was myself I was afraid for. Bein
g alone is easier, safer. Because the thought of losing you . . .”
“You won’t,” she said. “You called me Faith because faith was all you had. And you still have it. You’ll always have it. I’ll never leave you, Jake. Not ever.”
His fingers moved into her hair, curling into a fist, the hot look in his eyes burning even fiercer. “Try it,” he murmured. “See how far you get.”
Sparks ignited in her blood, answering his challenge because it seemed that she was hard-wired to do so.
“Maybe I will,” she said, just to mess with him the way he’d messed with her.
“You won’t get far.” He leaned down, pressing his forehead to hers. “This is it, Ms. Beasley. You’ll never leave me, because I won’t let you. So the real question you should be asking is: Are you sure this is what you want?”
She slid her hands up his chest, to his broad, powerful shoulders, and farther, into his silky black hair. “Didn’t you hear me say I’m in love with you, you stupid man? What does that tell you?”
“It tells me that you’re a very poor judge of character.” He lifted his head slightly and brushed his mouth over her cheek, kissing away her tears. “I, on the other hand, have been in love with you for months, which makes me an excellent judge of character.”
She gave a half laugh, half sob. God, who knew you could cry from happiness? “Months?”
“Yes, fucking months. I guess I was too stupid to realize it.”
Faith pulled at his hair. “If that’s a declaration, then you need to try harder.”
His smile deepened. “How about this then? I love you, Faith, my warrior princess. I trust you. I’m not sure I’m the man you think I am or that I deserve the trust you’ve given me, but if you believe I deserve it, then I’ll believe it too. But mainly, I’d be honored to be your prince. And most importantly of all, to fight at your side.”
She tightened her grip and pulled his mouth down on hers, giving him the only answer she was capable of.
Because as it turned out, there was one prince left in this world.
And he was hers.
Hard Night Page 28
