The Promise of Love

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The Promise of Love Page 2

by Lori Foster


  “I know, because I do the same.” Whenever dark clouds rolled in, his concern for her came alive to the point that he couldn’t think of anything else. “You can always come to me, Sabrina, you know that.”

  She was quiet a moment before saying, “That’s why I moved next door to you. But then, you knew that already.” Her fingers moved over his chest, brushing his chest hair, inadvertently skimming his left nipple.

  “I flgured as much. And I’m glad.” He closed his hand over hers to keep it still. He was already on the ragged edge, but given her earlier upset and the lateness of the hour, sex was out of the question.

  He wasn’t that selfish.

  “It’s bad enough for you to see me like this.”

  “Hey.” He could tell her that she looked soft and sexy and he wanted her. But that might not be what she wanted to hear.

  “I wouldn’t want to advertise it to everyone else.”

  On that, they agreed. “And I wouldn’t want you to go to anyone else, so it works for us.” Roy lifted her hand and kissed her knuckles. “Besides, having you here makes me feel better, too.”

  “Yeah, right.” Frowning, her mouth pursed in doubt, she looked up at him.

  Sabrina always made the most adorable faces that would look comical on anyone else.

  Roy couldn’t take it. Slowly leaning down, giving her time to lean away, he took her mouth in the gentlest of kisses.

  Surprise grabbed her, and like a deer caught in headlights, she froze—her breathing, her movements. Rather than rush things, Roy left the kiss simple and rested back on the pillow.

  After a long silent minute, she relaxed again, too. “Do you think I’ll ever get past this?”

  Huh. So she planned to ignore the kiss?

  He’d let her get away with that—for now. Especially given the seriousness of her question. “When I think about that night, about what your father planned and all that happened to you, I still break out in a sweat. And I was just your neighbor, observing it all.” And dying inside for her. “For you to have lived through it . . .” Fury choked him. “I don’t think it’s something that will fade away very easily.”

  “You were only nineteen then.” Her busy fingers teased over his ribs. “Home from college for a weekend visit.”

  “Full of testosterone and independence, thinking myself invincible.” He’d had so much, and she’d had so little. Unlike other college guys his age, he’d had no interest in weekend parties or sports. He’d even skipped dating to come home so he could check up on her.

  God knew Sabrina had few enough people who cared about her. Her own mother had left years earlier only to be killed in a car accident. When her estranged maternal grandmother passed, she had no one to leave the house to except Will. The day he and Sabrina moved in, anyone could see that he had a drug problem.

  Things were bad enough during the week, but on the weekends he’d party and get so stoned that he sometimes forgot he had a daughter. That’s when Sabrina would sneak out to Roy’s house. With his parents, with him, she could let down her guard.

  When Will couldn’t find work, his drug use escalated while the once tidy house went into disrepair. His facade as a father, or even as a decent human being, quickly deteriorated.

  Knowing the situation, Roy made it home as often as he could, as much for his parents as for Sabrina.

  On that final, significant night, he’d only been home a few hours when the storm broke—both figuratively and literally.

  They heard Sabrina’s frantic crying first. And then, as they all rushed out to the covered porch, they saw the guy trying to take her from the house. At the time, no one realized who the man was leading her away, only that she didn’t want to go. It wasn’t until later, after everything had settled down, that they learned the awful truth.

  Wishing he could somehow go back and remove all the ugliness from her life, Roy clenched her closer to him.

  “You’re thinking about that night, too, aren’t you?”

  “Can’t help it.” The ugliness would forever be burned in his memory. For once her father had remembered that he had a daughter—and he’d chosen to trade her for a flx. “I think that’s the only time I’ve ever seen my dad so violent.”

  She swallowed hard. “If it hadn’t been for you and your parents . . .”

  “Don’t say it.” He couldn’t bear to think what would have happened to her, how she would have been used by that drug-peddling scum. Crushing her closer still, Roy recalled how his mother had put in a panicked call to the police while his normally passive, quiet dad had charged across the yards in the pounding rain. Before Roy could join him, his dad had freed Sabrina and beat down the dealer without mercy.

  Roy had wanted his own turn at violence, but Sabrina had rushed to him through the pouring rain. He’d still been holding her close, lightning cracking around them, thunder shaking the earth, when the police showed up.

  As usual, whenever he thought of that night, emotion threatened to overwhelm him.

  “I was scared when they took me away,” Sabrina whispered to him. “But I was glad that I didn’t ever have to see my dad again.”

  Memories rushed through his mind, the flashing police lights, the fury of that storm, Sabrina’s face ravaged with tears and fear and heartache over a father who couldn’t love her, a father who, after handing over his daughter to a vile fate, had overdosed.

  The police found him dead on the floor in a puddle of his own vomit, a needle still in his arm.

  His parents never said it, but Roy knew they were relieved, because he was relieved, too. Sabrina would never have to face that bastard again. His time for hurting her was over.

  The drug dealer was arrested on numerous charges, not the least of which was murder.

  And though his mother had begged to keep her, a representative from Children’s Services had insisted on taking Sabrina away that night.

  Protocol had to be followed, and that left Roy and his parents on the sidelines as helpless spectators.

  God, he’d wanted to push past the cops, to snatch Sabrina away from the well-meaning strangers and protect her while also annihilating her no-good father, who was already dead, and the pusher who was already handcuffed and in the back of a cruiser . . .

  “You were a comfort to me that night.”

  Tangling a hand in her hair, Roy rubbed her scalp. “I didn’t do a damn thing. There wasn’t anything I could do, and it made me nuts.” Still made him nuts whenever he thought of it.

  “You were there, Roy. The whole time. Even as the car drove away with me, I saw you standing there in the storm, drenched to the skin, watching until I was out of sight.”

  “None of us wanted to let you go.” His parents had moved heaven and earth to become her guardians.

  She leaned over him. “You can never really know what that meant to me. When your mother came for me, when they told me that she wanted me to live with all of you, I couldn’t believe it.”

  Seeing her like this fired his blood. “Mom and Dad were both relieved when they got you back.” They had a welcome-home party for her, and she’d been so shy, so withdrawn, and so unsure of herself. They’d all worked overtime to put her at ease and to make her feel comfortable with them.

  Now she was so comfortable with him that even being in his bed didn’t seem to throw her.

  “No one had ever wanted me around like that.” She touched his chest, her eyes downcast, avoiding his gaze. “No one had ever . . . defended me like that.”

  Roy framed her face in his hands. Though years had passed, Sabrina still lived with the fact that her mother had run out on her, her father mistreated her, and her grandmother hadn’t cared enough to get involved. “My parents love you.”

  “I love them, too.” She looked at his mouth. “And you.”

  His heart started pounding, especially when she leaned down and kissed him, a butterfly brush of her lips on his.

  Before Roy could assimilate the importance of that, she nestled ba
ck down on his chest and yawned. “The storm has passed, and I’m exhausted. Let’s try to get some sleep, okay?”

  Roy stared at the ceiling, torn between lust and so much more. Obviously Sabrina thought the kiss was just another gesture of affection.

  He’d made strides tonight, and now that they were on the right track, the rest would come.

  Even if it tortured him, he would be patient.

  He closed his eyes, and to his surprise, her nearness didn’t frustrate him sexually as much as it fed something hungry in his soul. Her warmth and her scent surrounded him, and within minutes, he dozed off.

  LONG after Roy’s breathing evened into sleep, Sabrina lay awake, aware of his big muscular body, the heat of him, and his strength, both physically and emotionally. For as long as she had known him, he’d always given her whatever she needed. Comfort, security, protection, friendship . . .

  What would he do if he found out she needed more from him? If he discovered that she wanted . . . everything?

  Taking advantage of his sleep, she put her nose to his skin and inhaled deeply. Overriding the lingering turmoil from her storminduced panic was the burning need to touch him, taste him, everywhere.

  Of course she resisted that.

  Her feelings for him had started years ago as a child’s infatuation and they’d expanded into a woman’s deeper desires—for the emotional and the physical.

  She wanted him, but knowing that he saw her as a needy victim kept her quiet. She’d brought enough drama to his life. Even now, as a woman grown, she asked him to flght her demons for her, with her.

  Her face burned.

  Long before that monumental night brought a turning point to her life, she’d sought refuge at his home, with his parents.

  With him.

  The entire Pilar family had opened their arms to her, and she would forever be in their debt. They were all such big-hearted, caring people that she never doubted their love. Amy and Doug Pilar had been better role models, better parents, than her own parents had ever hoped to be.

  And Roy . . . he’d been everything to her.

  She couldn’t ask for even more from him. But neither could she get serious about any man other than him.

  He’d kissed her, but he’d also called her “kiddo,” his pet name for her—the name he used for that sad, scared kid she’d once been.

  So much to think about.

  She touched her lips with her fingertips. Tonight he had kissed her, and though it hadn’t felt platonic to her, it wasn’t exactly a passionate kiss, either.

  Maybe . . . maybe she’d take him off guard tomorrow and kiss him the way she wanted to kiss him. She’d gauge his reaction and go from there. If he seemed appalled, she could laugh it off, act like she’d been teasing.

  And if he kissed her back? Then what?

  Sabrina closed her eyes and instead of sleeping, she just enjoyed being in his arms and in his bed, where she really wanted to be.

  two

  Continued rainfall brought a gray, dreary dawn. There was no bright sunshine to make waking easier. On her stomach beside Roy, her chin propped on her hands, Sabrina watched him stretch and struggle to get his eyes open. Even this early, with beard shadow on his face, he looked amazing to her. And even while sleeping, he’d kept an arm around her, his hand open and lax on her body.

  Suddenly he went still, and then his hand on her hip moved, sort of caressing, exploring. He frowned—and his eyes shot open.

  Chocolate brown, filled with awareness and more, Sabrina loved his eyes, always had. They glittered when he laughed, went soft when he hugged his mom, and often heated with anger when he talked about the abused and abandoned animals he sheltered.

  As director and founder of the nonproflt organization, he championed animal rights just as she championed children. On more than one occasion, their professional paths had crossed so that they could work together.

  He blinked lazily when his gaze met hers. His lashes were long and thick, shades darker than the light brown hair on his head and the hair on his body.

  Sabrina watched him intently. “Good morning.”

  His gaze went all over her; his hand contracted. He lifted up to an elbow. “How long have you been awake?”

  Unwilling to tell him that she’d never gone back to sleep, she shrugged. “Your alarm is due to go off any minute.”

  He looked at it, then at the window.

  As he reached over to turn off the alarm, the sheet dropped down to his waist. Now, even with the day overcast, she could clearly see him.

  Her mouth went dry and her body temperature spiked. Roy had an incredible athlete’s body, strong and fit, large boned, and very capable. He took his strength for granted, but she never had.

  After rubbing his jaw, he said, “Still raining.”

  “A nice soft rain.” It suited her mood this morning. “I don’t mind it.”

  “Good.” He collapsed back on the bed and, with both hands now on her waist, urged her closer. The touch was familiar, as if he’d awakened with her a dozen times. He looked at her mouth. “About last night . . .”

  His rumpled hair drew her hand. She threaded her fingers through the cool thickness of it, smoothing it down.

  A little hopefully, she asked, “What about it?”

  He started to speak—and his cell phone rang. Brows coming together, he said, “Just a second,” and reached over to the nightstand to snag his phone.

  Sabrina listened to his side of the conversation, and she knew something was wrong, especially when, while still talking, he threw back the covers and left the bed.

  He wore only snug-fitting black boxers.

  And he had . . . well, a morning erection.

  Her jaw loosened and her eyes went wide.

  As if she weren’t there, he strode down the hall and into the bathroom.

  She stayed motionless in the bed, unsure what to do.

  When he returned, he had closed the phone and he wore that thundercloud expression reserved for news concerning animal abuse or neglect.

  He spared her only a quick glance. “Sorry, kiddo, but I have to head to the shelter.”

  Kiddo again. The nickname proved a great reminder that she wasn’t a romantic possibility.

  Now she knew what to do. Sabrina sat up on the bed and swung her legs over the side. “What’s wrong?”

  He stepped into jeans. “That was Chad. He just got to the shelter.”

  Chad often opened up the place. He was one of the few actual employees; most who worked at the shelter were volunteers. “He’s okay?”

  “Chad’s fine. But someone left a dog on the front steps during the night. There’s no telling how long she’s been there.”

  Sabrina rushed to her feet. “In that awful storm?”

  He paused, maybe hesitant to stir up memories.

  At the moment, her only concern was for the dog. “Is she injured?”

  “She gave birth.”

  Oh God. Sabrina stumbled back to sit on the bed again. The horror of such a thing nearly flattened her. “How many puppies?”

  “Eight.” Roy rubbed the back of his neck. “They’re all drenched, and Chad says the momma seems pretty weak.”

  All too familiar with that level of abandonment, Sabrina pictured everything in vivid detail. Determined to help, she left the bed again and faced Roy. “That storm had to be terrifying to her, especially while giving birth.”

  “At the very least, she’ll need some TLC. But other than bringing the box into the shelter, Chad doesn’t want to do too much until I get there. He’s not trained, so he can’t tell if the mess is from the birthing or an injury.”

  She and the puppies would have been pummeled by rain. And the noise, that god-awful thunder . . .

  Roy watched her, his distress obvious. “Chad said a couple of the puppies aren’t moving much.”

  Sympathy for the animals choked her. “I don’t need to be at work until the afternoon. I’ll go with you to help out.” Sabrina st
arted out of the room. “Give me two minutes to get dressed. I’ll meet you at your truck.”

  “Hey.” Before she’d cleared the doorframe, Roy caught the back of her nightgown, bringing her to a halt. “You had a rough night yourself. Maybe you ought to just . . . I don’t know. Hang out and relax until you go into work.”

  It was her fault that he thought her so fragile. She took his hand. “I want to go with you. Besides, I’m flne now—thanks to you.” Better than fine, in fact, since the weather had calmed, it wasn’t night, and she wasn’t alone.

  He chewed his upper lip, undecided. “It could be rough, honey. I don’t know what I’m going to find.”

  “So we should hurry.”

  “You don’t have to do this.”

  Of course she did. Any good, caring person would want to help, and despite her parents, or maybe because of them, she cared. A lot. “Two minutes, Roy. I promise.”

  His thumb rubbed the inside of her wrist. “Make it five. It’ll take me that long anyway.”

  “All right.” She started to leave, then remembered her resolve of the night before. After a second of hesitation, she went on her tiptoes to kiss him.

  She meant it to be a quick kiss—a test of sorts—but Roy caught the back of her neck and he didn’t let her retreat.

  This kiss was far from platonic. He tasted warm and musky, and his beard shadow abraded her chin and cheek.

  She loved it. Every second of it.

  But what the heck did it mean?

  He reluctantly released her. “You and I have a lot to talk about.”

  Sabrina nodded. Boy, hey, he wasn’t kidding. “Okay. But right now, we’re needed at the shelter.”

  “Soon.” He kissed her again, hard and fast, and then he turned away and headed to his dresser.

  And this time when she raced out, he didn’t stop her. He was too busy getting ready himself.

  ROY couldn’t keep his eyes off Sabrina. She had the gentlest touch and an air of caring that encompassed every living thing, including animals.

  The puppies were in better shape than the poor momma. The births had been hard on her and being exposed to the weather had compounded the problems. She was weak, panicked, and in discomfort, but luckily there were no serious injuries.

 

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