Jim was next to Kat, and he lay a calming hand on her arm.
“Liv,” he said. “I really, really think you’ve got that wrong. In fact, I know you do.”
“And I’m really, really sure that I don’t,” Liv shot back. “I don’t care what he says… he actually thinks I’m ugly and repulsive. That’s why he’s so polite and distant every time we talk. That’s why he barely touches me and won’t look at me when he’s anywhere close to me.”
Kat took a deep breath. “He does not think that about you. Dallas thinks that this is all his fault. He promised to protect you and he thinks he failed you and he’s waiting for you to come to that same conclusion. He’s waiting for you to hate him, Liv.”
“That’s so fucking stupid.”
“I agree,” Kat said. “Know what else is fucking stupid? Assuming that Dallas finds you ugly and repulsive.”
“Look at me!” Olivia shouted. “Look at my face! My upper body looks like a fucking surrealist nightmare! How can he not find me disgusting?”
“Because he loves you!” Kat shouted back, losing her temper now. “You think he just loved you for your fucking perfect face and fucking perfect body? You don’t think he loves you, Olivia? Your kindness? Your guts? Your sense of humor? My God, Olivia – you really think it was all just about your ass?”
Liv and Jim both stared at her.
“Let me ask you something,” Kat said. “If Dallas had been badly hurt at work, and he was going to have scars on his face and all down his chest, would you have stopped loving him? Found him ugly? Repulsive?”
“No!” Liv said angrily. “I’m not that shallow!”
“So why not give him the same credit?” Kat said. “He’s a good man, Liv, a decent, loving man. Why not treat him like he’s one?”
Liv opened her mouth to answer, then shut it again.
“He – he really blames himself?” she asked hesitantly. “For everything that’s happened?”
“Completely,” Jim said. “And he thinks that you do, too.”
She sat down, all her fight gone. “I don’t.”
“So why not go to him and tell him that?” Jim said.
Liv looked up at them. “What if you’re wrong about him still wanting to be with me?”
Kat sat down next to her, took her hands. “Hon, your whole life has been thrown in to a blender over the past few days… so many things have changed since that asshole cut you. But we’re all still here, OK? And I know that Dallas feels the same way about you as he did before you were hurt.”
“How?” Liv asked. “How do you know?”
“Because the man has done nothing but punish himself since it happened,” Kat said quietly. “He’s lost, Liv, and he’s in torment. People don’t hurt that way about people who mean nothing at all to them.”
Liv stared at her hands.
Jim sat on her other side. “For the past week, me and the guys have tried everything we can think of to get Dallas to believe that you won’t hate him. He won’t listen to us. There’s only one person he’ll listen to, Liv, and she’s sitting here staring at her hands.” He brushed her hair off her face and she stiffened; she’d taken to pulling it forward to hide the long, pink line on her cheek. “I know you’ve been through hell, sweetheart… I’d do anything to go back and stop any of it from happening to you. But it did happen, and you’re going to have to figure out how to live with all of it.”
She blinked back tears.
“I really think that Dallas can help you with that,” he said. “I think he’d pull you through, and be there for you. All you have to do is ask him.”
“Yeah?” Liv said.
“Yeah,” Kat and Jim said together.
Liv nodded. “OK. OK, I’ll try.” She looked at Jim. “Can you drive me?”
“No problem, Liv.” He grinned. “Kat and I have a plan.”
**
Dallas opened his front door and stared in confusion at the woman with long blonde hair standing there. “Hi. Can I help you?”
She lowered the scarf covering her face and she smiled. “Hi, Dallas.”
He almost reeled backwards in shock. “Olivia,” he said. “What – what are you doing here?”
“I want to talk to you,” she said. “Can I come in?”
“Uh, sure.” He stepped aside. “Let me take your coat.” He managed to get it off her body without actually touching her.
“Thank you.”
They stared at each other. Dallas’ eyes took in the bandage on her face and he winced.
Your fault, man. All yours.
Olivia saw his grimace and she felt hurt pierce her chest.
He thinks you’re so ugly, he can’t even bring himself to touch you.
She took off the blonde wig and shook out her hair. “Courtesy of Kat,” she said. “She put on a red one and Jim drove off with her just now. Just in case the press followed us, you know.”
His face tightened at the mention of the press. He’d dealt with them in the past, of course, since he’d worked with numerous celebrities and athletes as clients, and he’d always managed to be courteous and professional. But he’d never seen anything like the scrum of scum at the hospital once word got out that Olivia Jameson had been cut up by a stalker, and he’d fucking lost his mind about it.
Within twenty minutes of her telling him that he'd taken care of her and passing out, he’d seen people with cameras skulking around the hallways. Sully, Mark, Selena and Griff had shut that crap down damn fast and Mark had set up guards outside Olivia’s private room, but it was a full-time job to keep her protected.
Dallas had immediately turned his attention to and considerable anger on the fucking paparazzi. There was nothing he could do about what had happened to the woman he loved, but he sure as hell could make sure her sliced-up face and body didn’t end up splashed all over the internet and across the cover of every tabloid and rag in North America.
In a weird way, though, what had disgusted him even more than the press vultures were the offers of help. Within an hour of the news about Olivia hitting the outside world, the hospital was fielding calls from therapists, psychologists, psychics, healers, and God-only-knows-who, all offering to treat her.
Dallas was sure that Olivia would need therapy – lots of it – but he wasn’t happy that these opportunistic quacks were looking for a celebrity patient to speculate about. He’d been outraged to read that some so-called therapists were talking to the press about Olivia’s ‘body image issues’ and how hard it was going to be for a woman who’d been lauded for her beauty to be so badly scarred. One dickhead even went so far as to tell a journalist that Olivia may never be able to let a man touch her again, if her body was as damaged as he thought it was.
Thank God for Emma, though. She’d immediately gotten in touch with one of her former colleagues at the psychiatric practice, a quiet, kind woman named Dr. Francine Cabott. Francine had met with Olivia every day since the attack, and he knew that it was helping her a lot. He had no idea what they talked about, but he knew that in the past three days, Olivia had looked better.
He tried to stay calm now, knowing that his personal feelings about the press were irrelevant. “So… would you like a drink? Wine? Tea?”
“No, nothing. Thank you.”
“You want to sit down?”
“Please.”
Oh, God. We’re as stiff and polite as two strangers. Nobody would know that this man held me and kissed me and made love to me in the bedroom just a few feet away from where I’m sitting right now.
Dallas sat and looked at her, wondering if she was there to finally scream at him. He’d been waiting for this moment, and he’d thought he was ready for it. But now he wasn’t so sure.
“How have you been doing, Olivia?” he said. “With all the fall-out from today?”
She bit her li
p. “You’ve been following the news?”
“Yeah.”
“So you know that Hope Perfume dropped me this morning… the last of every single company that has ever worked with me.” She tried to smile. “Seems that scarred models aren’t all the rage after all, and even with the wonders of Photoshop, nobody’s interested.”
He looked down. “Jim says that you’ve got your house up for sale now and that you’ll stay with Kat for a while longer, right?”
“Yeah.” She hesitated, then took the plunge. “But I’d rather be staying here. With you.”
“Oh, Olivia. I don’t think that’s such a good idea…”
“Dallas,” she said softly. “Dallas, look at me.”
He forced his eyes up.
“I’m going to ask you something now, and I want you to tell me the truth. After that, you’re going to ask me something, and I’m going to tell you the truth. OK?”
He nodded, puzzled.
She took a deep breath. “Are you avoiding me and not touching me because you find me repulsive?”
He started. “What? No!”
“That’s the truth?”
“The whole, complete and total fucking truth, baby.”
“OK.” She studied his tense, pale face. “Now you ask me your question.”
He hesitated.
“Go on, Dallas. Ask.”
“Do you – do you blame me for what happened? For what that sick fuck did to you in the conference room and for the end of your career?”
“No.”
“But how can you not?” he asked and she heard the despair in his voice.
“Because I only blame one person, and he’s dead. You killed him as he held a knife to my throat and whispered in my ear that he was going to slash it wide open. Greg Wallace did all of this to me, and I know he was sick and maybe one day I’ll feel pity for him… but right now, I’m angry as hell at him. Only at him.” Her eyes held his. “I know what it cost you to pick up that rifle again, babe, what you risked losing of yourself by doing that. I know how slim the chances were that you were going to make that shot. But you did it anyway, and you saved my life. I love you for that.”
“You do?”
“Yes. I do.” She got to her feet and came to him. She stood right in front of him, close enough for him to feel her body heat. “I love you.”
He reached for her now, pulled her down and on to his lap. She went willingly, wrapping her arms around his neck. Dallas buried his face in her throat, inhaling her sweet scent, needing to reassure himself that she was there with him. That she needed him, and wanted him, and loved him. Dallas held her tighter, almost too tight, unable to believe what a miracle she was.
“I love you, baby,” he said. “I love you so much… please don’t ever hate me, OK?”
“Never,” she whispered. “Not ever.”
He raised his head and she gazed down at him. She smiled and he pulled her mouth to his. When their lips met, they both sighed at how right it felt to be together again. Dallas touched her uninjured cheek gently, and her eyes welled up at how tender those hands were on her body. Such a large, lethal man – and the care he showed her took her breath away.
She stood up and held out her hand. “Take me to your bed, Dallas.”
He took it and got to his feet, uncertain. “To… to make love? You’re not ready, are you?”
“I’m not ready, you’re right.” She ran her fingers over his chest, loving his strong, steady heartbeat. “Just hold me, OK? Let me sleep in your arms. Make me feel safe again.”
He stroked her hair back from her stunning face. “I can do that, baby.”
Olivia nodded. “I know.” She led him to the bedroom. “You’re the only person in the whole world who can.”
**
The next morning, Dallas woke up first. He held Olivia close, looked at her face in the winter morning sun, so calm and peaceful.
She’d taken the bandage off her cheek before going to sleep, and he examined the stitched wound closely. He knew that she’d have a scar, and that no matter how much it faded over time, it would always be visible.
He hadn’t seen the cuts on her chest and stomach yet; she was still working her way up to that with Francine’s help, she said. He’d told her the night before that she could show him when she was ready. He’d wait. Then he’d run his tongue over every inch of her body, worshipping it, adoring it.
When she’s ready.
But the visible scars were nothing compared to the invisible ones. She was starting her whole life over again in so many ways. Her career had exploded overnight, she was selling the house that she now hated and feared, she had lost her whole social circle and lifestyle. She was afraid, he knew, and she had nightmares about being watched secretly, about being held down and cut up. It would take time and therapy and Dallas was determined to be there through all of it. Whatever she needed.
She stirred in his arms now, made a soft sound in her throat. He kissed her eyelids and she smiled, opened them up slowly.
“Good morning,” Dallas said, his voice husky with emotion.
“Hi,” she said. “You were watching me sleep?”
“You know it.” He ran his fingers through her hair. “You’re so beautiful, baby.”
She searched his eyes and she saw that he was telling her the truth. Tears slid down her cheeks as the miracle of that truth just washed over her, overwhelmed her with its sweetness.
“I love you, Olivia.” He kissed her, then gently wiped the tears with his thumbs. “More than I can ever say.”
“I love you too.” Her voice broke and he pulled her closer. They lay quietly for a few minutes, just listening to each other breathe, loving the closeness and warmth between them.
“Hey,” he said suddenly. “It’s Christmas in a couple of weeks…”
She propped herself up on one arm and gazed at his handsome face. “It is indeed. You got any plans?”
“No. Jim and Chris are off back home, and Dean’s going to California with Emma. I was just going to go to Mark’s place, maybe. What are you doing? Your Mom’s here, right, so I guess you’ll be with her?”
She nodded. “Yeah. Mom and I are going to spend the day at the shelter in Parker, with the families.” She traced his muscled chest under his t-shirt. “Maybe you want to join us?”
He blinked. “I thought that having a man go in was a bad idea…”
She smiled and he gazed at her, amazed at how bright and brilliant she was. “Not the man who saved my life. They know all about you, and you’re officially invited.”
“Really?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Then I’d love to come and meet them. I’m glad they’ll have me.”
She kissed him now and he responded, his hands in her hair, his legs intertwined with hers, his huge body protecting and encircling her smaller one. He murmured that he loved her, that she was the strongest, most amazing woman he’d ever known.
And that was the moment when Olivia really knew that when she was ready to make love to Dallas, she’d look in to his eyes and have no doubt whatsoever that for him, she was truly beautiful – inside and out.
Dallas would look at her naked body and he’d crave and kiss every single inch of it… he’d run his hands and lips over it and she’d feel like the most desirable, sexiest, most stunning woman in the whole world.
Scars and all.
**
Dear Reader,
I very much hope that you enjoyed following the individual and group stories of the ‘Unseen Enemy’ series characters. ‘Enemy Mine’ (Unseen Enemy #3), Jenny and Chris’ story, will be published on October 21st, 2014.
If you want to know when it is available for purchase, please check on my website at: marysoljames.com or one one of my social media platforms (Twitter, Facebook, and my blog). I wi
ll be announcing its release in all of these places, and posting some sneak peeks of the cover as well as some excerpts.
Thank you for reading!
Marysol
About the author
Marysol James is the author of the 'Open Skies', ‘Fighting For Love’ and 'Unseen Enemy' series. She writes steamy, sexy, slinky romances which feature strong, complex women and equally fascinating men. Marysol is interested in producing well-written and passionate stories with characters who learn to let go of control and to trust – both in and out of the bedroom.
Her stories are very sensual (very!), and offer smart plots, a bit of humor, and lots of character development, so her books will appeal to readers who want emotional connection as well as sexuality.
When not writing, Marysol can be found swimming, doing yoga, listening to music and drinking coffee. To stay up-to-date with her, visit her official author website at www.marysoljames.com
By the same author
The ‘Open Skies’ Series:
Open Skies (Open Skies #1)
Open Arms (Open Skies #2)
Open Eyes (Open Skies #3)
Open Heart (Open Skies #4)
The ‘Fighting For Love’ Series:
Fighting Hard (Fighting For Love #1)
Fighting Strong (Fighting For Love #2)
Fighting Love (Fighting For Love #3)
Fighting History (Fighting For Love #4)
PUBLICATION DATE: November 4, 2014
The ‘Unseen Enemy’ Series:
Enemy Within (Unseen Enemy #1)
Enemy Outside (Unseen Enemy #2)
Enemy Mine (Unseen Enemy #3)
Enemy Outside (Unseen Enemy Book 2) Page 15
