Rhys

by Adrienne Bell

  Tessa’s stomach began to growl as he cracked a couple of eggs into a bowl and beat them with a fork.

  “So, that’s your plan?” she asked, only half joking. “To seduce the truth out of me with an omelet?”

  “Something like that,” Rhys said as he turned around.

  His lips didn’t quite pull up into a smile as their eyes met, but she caught just the barest hint of humor sparkling in his eyes. His expression softened and the effect almost took her breath away.

  The man might be every bit the steely badass that Tessa had seen the night before, but he was also a damned gorgeous one.

  “And you’re sure that’s going to work?” Tessa asked, once she could breathe again.

  “Positive,” he said.

  There wasn’t a trace of doubt in his voice.

  Chapter Six

  Tessa wasn’t sure how she was going to make it through the day.

  She couldn’t sleep. Hell, she could barely even close her eyes. Every time she did, Dylan Murtry’s face emerged from the darkness.

  Television wasn’t a much better distraction.

  She’d hoped that the constant hum and mild drama would help keep her mind occupied. But it didn’t turn out that way. If anything, the manufactured drama of daytime television made the day creep by at a nearly unbearable pace.

  Dead silence was better than that. Good thing too, because stretched out on the couch, watching the minutes tick by on the clock hanging above the mantle, there certainly was plenty of it.

  Rhys was still with her, of course, but Tessa was quickly learning that her newfound friend was hardly the world’s greatest conversationalist. In fact, he seemed perfectly at ease in the stillness of the house, almost as if he was in his natural habitat.

  Of course, he didn’t seem to be lacking for tasks. He’d made her breakfast, worked on his computer, fixed lunch, poked at his phone.

  Tessa, on the other hand, didn’t even have a book.

  She wasn’t used to prolonged periods of inactivity. Back in her lab, her mind and body were always moving, always working on something. There were puzzles to solve, answers to find, pieces to put together.

  And in the few hours out of the week that she wasn’t at work or sleeping, she’d always managed to keep her body busy with something, usually the gym. But apparently, safe houses didn’t come equipped with treadmills.

  Not that she could have used one if it was in front of her.

  She’d barely been able to move since lying down on the couch, and it wasn’t just because she’d wasted all her energy earlier trying to sneak out the front door.

  Her side was sore as the devil. Every joint in her body ached, and the cuts on her body stung like fire. On top of all that, she had a throbbing headache that made her fear her brain was about to push its way out of her skull.

  All together, Tessa had seen better days.

  But moping about it wasn’t going to make it any better. Besides, if she spent any more time staring up at the dried paint on the ceiling like a child trying to find patterns in the clouds, she was truly going to drive herself mad.

  A groan escaped Tessa’s lips as she pushed past the soreness and lifted herself up into a sitting position.

  “Everything okay?”

  Tessa turned her stiff neck to find Rhys sitting at a table in the corner, a laptop open in front of him.

  “Yeah,” she said. “I just needed to move around a little. I think I’m going a little stir crazy.”

  “You’re not going to turn on the television again, are you?”

  Tessa smiled at the concern in his voice. Of all the trials that he’d faced in the last twenty-four hours alone, talk shows and soap operas were the only things she’d seen that made Rhys Vaughn truly nervous.

  “That bad, eh?” she asked.

  A sharp look of distaste flashed over his face. “It…bothered me.”

  “Yeah, daytime television can do that to the best of us.”

  “You’re saying it gets better at night?”

  “Some of it.” Tessa shrugged. “You really never watch tv?”

  “I have other things to do at night.”

  Tessa laughed, and Rhys’ brows pulled together. She got the feeling he wasn’t used to people laughing at his words. Maybe he was just unused to other people period.

  “Was that meant to be cryptic or boastful?” she teased.

  “Neither.” He regarded her for another long moment, and Tessa found her skin starting to heat as she felt pinned down by that jewel blue gaze. “How are you feeling?”

  “Sore,” she said. “Tired. Bored.”

  Scared out of my mind. Afraid to close my eyes.

  Tessa looked down at her lap. She laced her fingers together and rubbed her thumbs over each other. The simple movement didn’t do much to relieve the stress roiling inside of her.

  A second later, she heard Rhys push back in his chair. He walked over to the edge of the couch and pulled a fuzzy blanket off the armrest. He bent over as he wrapped it around Tessa’s outstretched legs.

  “Thanks,” she said, combing her fingers through the fringe along the edge.

  “You should try to sleep,” he said, staying by her side. “I promise, Boyd isn’t going to find you.”

  There was a note of confidence in his voice that was hard to ignore. She wanted to believe him, even though she didn’t have a shred of evidence proving his words.

  She looked up at him. “How can you be sure?”

  Rhys sat down on a sliver of empty space by the bend of her knees.

  “All of Macmillan’s safe houses are completely off the grid,” he explained. “Boyd can dig all he wants. There is no trail he can find that will lead him here.”

  “I’m guessing Charlie saw to that,” Tessa said with a half smile.

  “She did.”

  “Carter Macmillan is lucky to have her,” she said. “You all are.”

  “You’re right.”

  Tessa tucked a strand of hair behind her ear as she looked Rhys in the eye. She couldn’t help feeling a strange bolt of awareness at the intimate feel of his body next to hers, even if the contact was incidental at best. Even though she was in no shape to act on anything she might be feeling.

  If Rhys felt the same, his expression didn’t show it. It didn’t show much of anything at all. On the other hand, he didn’t look like he was in any rush to get up either.

  And as long as he was here, she figured there wasn’t any harm in talking. As long as she was the one that got to pick the subject, that is.

  “Carter doesn’t trust me, does he?” she asked.

  Rhys held her gaze for a long moment before shaking his head. “No, he doesn’t.”

  She swallowed past the lump in her throat. “None of your friends do, right?”

  “Some less than others,” he said.

  That was okay. She didn’t completely trust any of them either. Truthfully, Tessa wasn’t sure she would ever be able to truly trust anyone again.

  Not their words, at any rate.

  If Tessa had learned anything from this it was that talk was meaningless. Boyd had spent years telling her what she wanted to hear. Carter Macmillan had just hurled accusations at her hoping that she’d slip and give him more information.

  Dylan had cut and hit her, offering her nothing but pain and fear. Rhys had cleaned her wounds and held her while she cried. They’d both showed her who they really were without saying a single word.

  “Can I ask you a question, Rhys?”

  He looked at her for a long moment. His expression never changed but Tessa could swear that she saw a hundred different emotions flash in his eyes.

  “Anything,” he said.

  “Why do you really care about what happens to me?” she asked.

  His jaw tightened.

  Shame? Was that what she saw flicker across his face? It couldn’t be. What did Rhys have to be ashamed of?

  “Because I understand you,” he said, his gaze struggling
to stay on her.

  Tessa leaned toward him. “You mean because you can read people so well?”

  “No,” he said, his gaze intensifying. “You’re not the only person who’s done things they’re not proud of.”

  It also seemed that she wasn’t the only one keeping secrets.

  “I’m sorry,” Tessa said. She meant it. She might have only been carrying this burden for the last couple of days, but already she knew how heavy it could be.

  When he didn’t offer up any other explanation, Tessa reached out and cupped her palm around his knee. Strangely, it felt good to be the one doling out comfort for a change. Made her feel less like a victim and more like someone who had something to give.

  Rhys stared down at her hand, but Tessa didn’t pull away. And for a long moment, neither did he. Then, suddenly, he stood up. Her hand fell away.

  “I should get back to work,” he said, no longer looking her in the eye.

  Tessa watched his back as he walked away, wondering if she’d done something wrong.

  ***

  Rhys had been dozing for about an hour when Tessa’s piercing scream shattered the quiet of the dark bedroom.

  He shot straight up in the chair by her bedside, his hand already sliding down to his side for his weapon.

  His gaze darted from the windows to the door, but there was nothing to see. Everything was as it should be. There was no shattered glass, no attackers looming over the bedside.

  There was only Tessa sitting up in the dead center of the mattress. Her face was pale and beaded with sweat. Her eyes were focused on something…someone…who wasn’t there.

  She was still in a dream, trapped in a nightmare she couldn’t break out of.

  “Tessa,” Rhys said, trying to rouse her.

  Her face snapped toward him. She screamed again, a sound so sharp with fear and pain that it cut him all the way down to his core.

  Rhys slid onto the mattress and wrapped his arms around her body. She struggled violently, caught in the grip of the night terror. Her legs flailed and her fists beat his chest as she railed against the demons in her mind, but Rhys held tight.

  “Tessa.” He said her name softly, over and over, until her fight began to fade away. She looked up at him and Rhys watched as a lucid light slowly came back into her eyes.

  “Rhys?” She blinked a few times as she came back to herself.

  “It’s okay,” he said. “I’ve got you.”

  Tears formed in her eyes, shining brightly in the dim glow of the room. She looked away and they rolled down her cheek.

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “I thought I was back in…”

  Her voice drifted off, and a silence fell between them.

  He wouldn’t lie to her, wouldn’t tell her it was just a dream. Rhys knew better than that. He knew all too well what she was experiencing, her mind vividly replaying the trauma, trying to make sense of it.

  He lifted one hand to brush back her hair, half afraid that she would pull away from the soothing gesture, but she stayed with him.

  “You can tell me,” he said.

  She lifted her gaze. There was a vulnerability showing in her face that pulled at the dead center of his chest.

  “You’re not going to run off again are you?” she asked. There was a note of humor in her voice, but Rhys saw it for what it was—a defense mechanism.

  “No,” he promised. “I’m not going anywhere.”

  He never should have left her side when she’d reached out to him earlier, but he’d been surprised by his reaction to her show of compassion. No one had ever tried to soothe his conscience before.

  They’d only reminded him that he didn’t have one.

  She met his gaze for a long moment before nodding her acceptance of his words. Rhys settled on the bed with his legs out in front of him and nestled her close, and waited for her to talk.

  “I was back at Boyd’s house,” she said. “It seemed so real. It’s like my mind won’t let go.”

  “It will,” Rhys said. “But it will take time.”

  “Dylan was right in front of me, screaming at me again.”

  Rhys cupped his hands over her shoulders. “Dylan is never going to touch you again.”

  She was quiet for a moment. After a few breaths, he felt her muscles begin to relax a little.

  “Did you know Dylan and I were actually friends once?” She paused again. “Well, at least I thought we were. We even went on a date.”

  Rhys stiffened. The idea of Dylan getting close to Tessa only to turn around and torture her reignited his rage.

  “It was just a dinner, and it was pretty obvious that we weren’t a great match,” she went on. “But now I’m pretty sure he only asked me because Anders told him to keep an eye on me.”

  “Then he’s a fool,” Rhys said honestly.

  There was no doubt that Tessa was beautiful with her expressive eyes and bow-shaped lips, but there was much more to her than that. He might have only known her for a day and already he could see just how special she was.

  There was fight in her, sure, but that alone was nothing remarkable. The survival instinct in most people was pretty strong. When faced with pain and violence, Rhys had watched people fight and people run. Both reactions were effective, and there was no innate honor in either.

  But Rhys rarely saw their humanity continue to shine so brightly underneath after the damage had been done. Tessa might have been hurt, but she would heal. Dylan Murtry hadn’t managed to break her spirit. As far as Rhys could tell, he hadn’t even been able to touch it.

  And that was special.

  Her eyes were still wet when she looked up at him again. “Sometimes I wonder if I’m ever going to trust anyone ever again.”

  “You will,” he said, running his hands over her shoulders. He could feel the tension slowly melting out of her muscles. She leaned deep against his chest. “It will just take time.”

  “How much time?”

  “There’s no way of knowing.”

  “Well, that’s a sucky answer.” She laughed a little but it mixed with her tears, making her cough.

  Rhys couldn’t resist the smile that pulled at the corner of his lips. “Sorry, but it’s true.”

  “Do you always tell the truth?” she asked.

  “No,” he said, slowly shaking his head. “One time my sister-in-law asked if I liked her little white fluff ball dog, and I said yes.”

  Her sweet laugh came easier this time. “I think you might be forgiven for that one terrible sin.”

  That one, maybe, but there were thousands of others that Rhys knew there would be no absolution from.

  He tried not to dwell on those memories as Tessa leaned deeper into his chest.

  “All right, Mr. All-Knowing,” she said with a deep sigh. “So can you tell me when I’ll be able to sleep through the night again?”

  He opened his mouth, but she held up a single finger to stop him.

  “And I should let you know that if you say in time again I will find that knife your friend left behind.”

  He felt that unfamiliar pull at the corner of his lips again.

  “When you’re no longer scared that you won’t,” he answered.

  Her shoulders fell as she sighed. “So…never.”

  Rhys drew in a deep breath. He knew a way to make it easier.

  “Do you want me to stay here with you until you fall asleep?”

  Tessa went completely still in his arms. Rhys could almost feel the battle raging inside her. They were practically strangers. They’d only known each other for twenty-four hours, but somehow the connection between them was real.

  She trusted him enough to be alone with him, to let him watch over her, to break down in his arms. Holding her while she drifted off wasn’t all that different.

  At least that was what Rhys told himself.

  “You wouldn’t mind?” She asked the question so timidly that he barely caught the words.

  “I wouldn’t have offered otherw
ise.”

  He stretched out on the mattress and spooned her body against his. She fit against him perfectly, her legs molding around his, her back against his chest, his arm slung against the deep curve of her waist.

  “Thank you.” Her voice was serious as she laid her head down on his arm. There was no laughter now, no quips. “It’ll only be for tonight.”

  “I’ll be here for however long you need,” he said.

  Rhys didn’t close his eyes as the minutes began to tick by. He kept them open, listening to the rhythmic sound of Tessa’s breath slowing down as sleep overtook her. Her body relaxed as well, and she melted against him.

  Rhys knew he was supposed to be doing this for her peace of mind. She trusted him to hold her demons at bay while she slept, but he’d be lying if he said that being with her was a burden.

  Rhys had been with his share of women. He might not have had Mason’s charm, or Jake’s magnetism. He’d never fallen into the kind of serious relationship that Carter found himself entangled in currently, but he had never lacked for attention.

  He didn’t hold any illusions of what most of the women who sought him out were attracted to. They were turned on by his cold detachment. They liked the sense of danger. They wanted to flirt with the darkness laying just below the surface.

  But they never stayed too long, never dug too deep.

  He couldn’t blame them. One-night stands were for one thing only, the exchange of pleasure, and Rhys had certainly given and taken his fair share of that.

  But nothing he had ever done with that long line of strangers had ever been as intimate as the feel of Tessa in his arms right now. Even fully clothed, her body—small and warm and languid— stirred him. Not just his cock—though that was hard enough to shame him if she were to wake up—but something deeper.

  The truth was, he wanted this closeness as much as she did.

  Wanted to cradle the one person that looked at him like he was a human being. Who was neither drawn to nor repulsed by his callous exterior. He wanted to hold the woman that had reached out to him earlier. The one who saw something more in him.

  He might be doing this under the pretense of helping Tessa, but if he were honest, he’d have to admit that he needed this just as much as she did.