Colters' Promise (Colters' Legacy, #4)(27)

“Well, yes, I suppose that’s exactly what I’m saying,” she said with a grin.

He gathered her in his arms and held her tightly, his face buried in her hair. “I love you, Callie. So damn much. I don’t want to ever be without you. I couldn’t live with myself if I ever hurt you, if I ever abused your trust in me.”

She nestled her face in his neck, inhaling his scent.

When he finally pulled away, his face was somber. “I don’t know what to do to help her, Callie. For the first several days I felt like the worst sort of fraud. God, I felt ashamed, like I was some hypocrite and that I wasn’t worthy of any better treatment than the son of a bitch who beat her.”

Callie smiled softly, allowing her love to shine through. “Just being here for her is helping. Us going to get her, not allowing her to close herself off and wallow in shame—that’s helping. She’s going to be fine. It’ll take time. The best thing you can do is not treat her like she’s broken. Don’t tiptoe around her. Treat her like she’s part of the family and that we’re thrilled she’s here. The rest will come in time.”

Max let his hand wander through her hair and then down to her bare breasts, where he toyed idly with her nipples. “Has anyone ever told you that you’re a wise woman, Callie Wilder?”

She laughed. “No, I can honestly say that no one in my family has ever accused me of being anything but flighty and free-spirited. Wise doesn’t exactly fit in there anywhere.”

He kissed her temple and squeezed her tight again. “You’re my everything, dolcezza. And where you fit is right here with me. Always.”

“Then don’t hold back,” she begged. “I need you, Max. I need your dominance, your strength. Your control. I need that structure. It centers me. It reminds me that I have a place in this world. With you.”

He let his hands slide down to the bands circling her wrists. The bands he’d placed there as a symbol of his ownership. To him, they were more important than their wedding rings. They meant more. They went deeper.

“Never take these off,” he said quietly. “I couldn’t bear it.”

She extended both wrists, holding them upward in supplication. “I’m yours, Max. I don’t want to ever be anything else. I’ll never take them off unless you ask me to.”

He leaned forward, finding her lips in the sweetest of kisses. “Good, because I’m never going to ask.”





CHAPTER 12




HOLLY awoke in the middle of the night shivering, and the ache in her lower side had intensified to a fiery pain that wasn’t alleviated by movement. Ryan lay sleeping beside her, but no one was on her other side. Adam and Ethan had evidently taken to their own beds instead of crashing in the common bedroom tonight.

She pushed to the vacant side, careful not to awaken Ryan. Her feet hit the cold floor and she shivered as another chill overtook her. Fire splintered through her side and she hunched over, grabbing for the edge of the bed to steady herself. Nausea welled in her throat and she swallowed hard against the urge to vomit.

She managed to stagger into the kitchen, and she opened the medicine cabinet to get some ibuprofen. After shaking out four pills, she returned the bottle and started toward the cabinet for a glass.

Pain assaulted her, spearing through her, robbing her of breath. She fell, hitting the floor with a thud, driving the air from her lungs in a painful rush. She lay there, balled into a fetal position, afraid to move because the pain was so horrific.

Something was terribly, terribly wrong.

“Ryan,” she called weakly. “Adam? Ethan?”

Darkness hovered on the fringes. She fought unconsciousness as the pain intensified. She heard a distant sound, tried to call out again, but the blackness swirled until she was dizzy with it.

RYAN awoke, a frown turning his lips downward. It was automatic to reach for Holly, a habit he hadn’t broken in over thirty years. But she wasn’t there. Something had awakened him. His name. He could swear he’d heard her call.

Throwing aside the covers, he hurried out of bed and into the hall. No lights were on in the house and it was silent. The fire had long since died out in the living room and only a few glowing embers remained.

“Holly?” he called.

Something like dread pitted his stomach and clutched at his throat. He hadn’t checked his brothers’ bedrooms because he’d just known that wasn’t where she was. After surveying the living room, he walked toward the kitchen and damn near tripped over her before he’d gotten far.

His heart bottomed out. He dropped to his knees, yelling her name hoarsely. She was in a tiny ball, knees drawn up as if she were in unimaginable pain. Her skin was hot and dry to the touch. He immediately felt for a pulse, relieved to find a steady rhythm against his fingers.

“Adam! Ethan!” he roared. “Get in here!”

Gently, he collected Holly in his arms, unsure of what to do. He only knew he wasn’t leaving her lying on the cold floor.

Not ten seconds later, his brothers ran down the hall and appeared in the kitchen.

“What happened?” Adam barked.

Ethan crowded into Ryan, his hands going to Holly’s face and then her neck, frantic, just as Ryan had been to feel the reassuring pulse pattern.

“What’s wrong with her?” Ethan demanded.