Luck of the Devil (The Forge Trilogy #2)(42)

“Nothing,” I say, but it sounds like a lie, even to myself. I tug at his hand, but he tightens his grip and forces me to a halt.

“When a woman says nothing is wrong, something is generally very wrong . . . Is this about de Vere and what he did tonight?” My husband’s voice takes on a sharper tone when he says Bastien’s name.

“What? No. Of course not.” At least that much of my answer is honest, because until this moment, I haven’t thought about Bastien’s next level of attempted betrayal. But now that I am, a tidal wave of emotion swamps me.

Bastien sent people to destroy Alanna’s flat. He tried to get me arrested for drug trafficking. He’s trying to destroy me because I’m linked to Jericho, and there’s nothing I can do about any of it.

“What is it then?” The pale light from the moon glints off Jericho’s messy black hair, and I can’t bring myself to meet his eyes. He’ll see right through me.

I tug my fingers out of his grip and cover my face with both hands. “I don’t know. I need some time and space to figure out what the fuck is going on, because I sure as hell don’t know how to process all of this. It’s too much. I don’t even recognize my life anymore. It’s all just too fucking much!”

My voice sounds ragged and tears burn my eyes. I’m not going to cry in front of him. I’m not going to break down again.

I take two steps to escape, my lungs heaving as I suck in breath after breath, making my head spin, but Jericho’s hands land on either side of my waist and he pulls me back against him, then wraps his hands over my stomach.

“Let me go!” I shove at his hands, even though part of me feels steadier in his arms.

“I won’t let you go, Indy. Not like this.”

My hands drop lifelessly and I stand still, as if I’m afraid to move because I’ll shatter into a hundred pieces like my life has, and I’ll never be able to put myself back together again.

Jericho closes his arms tighter around me, pulling my back to his front until the heat radiating off his body warms my skin. With his chin pressing against the top of my head, he speaks in a calming tone.

“I know you’ve had to shoulder everything yourself for a long time. But you’re not alone anymore, and you don’t have to hold it all in because you’re afraid the people who rely on you can’t handle the truth. I’m here, and I’m strong enough to carry every burden weighing you down. If you’d just fucking trust me, you’d know that I’ve got you. I’m not going to let anything happen to you or your sister or Alanna. I’ll keep you all safe. I swear.”

He has no idea how seductive those words are to a girl like me. Someone who has never had someone to lean on without being afraid I might break them too.

I steady my breathing and take two slow, deep breaths.

“That’s right. Just breathe.”

I want to believe him. I want to let go of all the craziness swirling in my head. All the worries and fears and insane theories. I just want to let it all go for one fucking night.

One heartbeat at a time, I relax into the curve of his body, soaking up his heat and strength. Part of my mind is protesting that I shouldn’t get used to this.

“I feel like my life isn’t my own anymore,” I confess on another ragged breath. “I don’t even fucking recognize it. It’s like I’m standing on the edge of a cliff, and everything is crumbling beneath me.”

Forge’s arms wrap around me even tighter. “I’m not going to let you fall. We’re going to take this one day at a time, okay?”

One day at a time.

God, that sounds amazing. I could just soak up this moment, let him take my troubles away, and not worry about every little thing that could possibly happen next. If I don’t try, I’ll drive myself insane.

I take another deep breath and picture myself exhaling all the stress and pressure. With Forge’s arms wrapped around me, I feel lighter than I did a moment before. I try it again and again, and with each breath, I pull myself together. My edges are still tattered, but I’m not in danger of shattering right now.

“Thank you. I think I’m good.” I straighten, but he doesn’t let go.

“I know what you need.”

I turn to glance over my shoulder and up at his face. “A hot shower and some sleep?”

“Almost. Come with me.”

I lose his arms, and a chill takes their place. I’m not too proud to admit that I don’t like it. He takes my hand instead and leads me into the villa and his bedroom.

Instead of stripping or going into the bathroom to turn on the shower, he goes to the far side of the room and pushes the curtain back to reveal floor-to-ceiling glass doors. He slides one open and disappears outside.

A moment later, water splashes into something, and I move toward the noise. “What’s that?”

“An outdoor tub. You’ll have plenty of privacy. You can soak and just . . . rest.”

I follow his voice and peek beyond the billowing curtain to see him leaning over a tub and testing the temperature.

Jericho Forge is running me a bath?

It seems so completely out of character, but then again . . . lately I feel like I don’t have a solid grip on this enigma of a man.

“A bath?”

He straightens, and the sound of running water continues. “I’ll get you a robe and a towel. It shouldn’t be too hot, but you can adjust it.”