Gentleman Sinner(52)

Or safe.





Chapter 14

He washed me down in his shower, shampooed my hair and rinsed, working his strong fingers through my scalp. The act wasn’t sexual. It was loving and caring, and it did nothing to stop my feelings from deepening. When Theo said he would treat me like a queen, he really meant it.

I have a fresh glass of wine in my hand as I roam around his bedroom, snuggled tightly in a soft robe, admiring the décor. I eye each post of his four—poster bed as my lips hover over the rim of my glass, and then take in the sumptuous bedding – all creams and golds and huge great big pillows. A dressing room off to the side is lined with rows of suits, and the bathroom is massive and drenched in lushness. Everything is over-the—top big. Like Theo.

I pad through to the lounge, working my way around the room, gazing up at the framed portraits as I sip my wine. After our shower, I feel alive and refreshed. Being here with Theo, immersed in his world, I forget my draining day. I hold the glass at my lips and frown at the painting currently before me, a pretty depiction of the Last Supper. It’s another religious symbol, and Theo, apparently, isn’t religious. In the reflection of the glass, I see the bright sparkle in my eyes bouncing back at me. It’s a rare sight. I’ve never felt so happy, so relaxed and safe – shielded from my past and the world. Theo makes me so happy. He makes me feel valued. Untouchable. So special, and completely consumed.

I don’t understand it, but I can’t ignore it. Trying to reflect back on my life without Theo in it is impossible, because his presence now is so powerful, anything before is diluted by it. And that is so very appealing. He’s chasing away the fear I fight to keep buried every day. He’s soothing my hidden sadness. He’s given me something I didn’t realize I wanted.

Safety.

He feels like he could be my . . . I let my thoughts fade there, telling myself that I’m getting ahead of myself. Or am I? I consume his thoughts, invade his dreams, and he craves my touch. For a man who doesn’t like to be touched, that’s a profound confession. He’s made me endless promises, told me I can trust him. I’ve never once doubted that. I trust him with my life. And I trust him with my heart.

I return to my earlier thought, the one I stopped myself from thinking. And though it scares me a little, I admit that he feels like he could be my cure. And I also admit that I’m falling for him.

I breathe in and laugh a little on my exhale. You silly woman, Izzy. I’m not falling. I’ve fallen. Hard. So damn hard. It’s an incredible feeling. One of hope, peace, and happiness. Just like I imagined. It’s also unstoppable, and that’s terrifying. I’ve been in control of my emotions for so long. I’ve dictated the rules, managed my fears. Now, I’m at his mercy. My heart is at his mercy. My feelings are his to control.

I’ve fallen in love with a man who is feared by most but has shown me nothing but utter tenderness since we met. I’ve fallen in love with a man who pulled a gun on someone but was doing it to defend and protect me. I’ve fallen in love with a man who radiates violence, but I just know he would never be violent towards me. I’ve fallen in love with a man who can’t bear to be touched but craves my touch. I’ve fallen in love with a man who has a natural, powerful urge to protect me. To look after me. Yet I don’t really know him. Do I need to? Can I leave my heart open and exposed to a man who is so confounding? ‘Don’t hurt me, Theo,’ I whisper to myself. ‘Don’t let me down.’

A noise behind me has me pivoting and finding him filling the doorway to his bedroom, a towel wrapped around his lean hips. My head tilts, and I fall into a daydream, running my gaze over every inch of him until I reach his smiling eyes. His face. Fierce but angelic. ‘I love you,’ I whisper to myself, so quietly I know he couldn’t have heard me.

He gives me a questioning look, his smile fading a little. ‘Did you say something?’

I clutch my glass with both hands and shake my head. ‘No.’

‘Your lips moved.’

‘I was praying for resistance.’

‘Why?’

‘Because I can’t touch you, and when you’re there like that, it’s really hard, Theo. It’s hard all of the time.’

When I expect him to look smug, he surprises me and drops his eyes to the floor, ashamed. ‘I’m sorry.’

‘No.’ I rush to soothe him, trying to locate something in my head to counteract the playful statement that’s injured him. ‘Don’t be sorry. I wasn’t thinking.’ I, too, drop my head, annoyed with myself. I don’t ever want him to be sorry for being who he is. Because every single thing that makes him Theo Kane is why I’m standing here in his lounge making my silent confessions.

I hear a soft sigh, and then soon after see his bare feet in my downcast vision. ‘Here.’ He takes my glass from my hand and places it on a nearby table before claiming my hands. I look up through my lashes as he negotiates my arms around his shoulders, flattening my palms on his nape. The softness of his hair there calls for me to stroke and feel, so I flex my fingers gently until Theo releases. I exhale deeply and caress him tenderly as he shuts his eyes and hums. It’s so strange that such a big, formidable man needs to be handled with such care. ‘That feels good,’ he murmurs dreamily, moving in and taking my hips. His heat radiates through the thick material of my robe and penetrates me to my soul.