Conflicted (Everlasting Love)(14)

“Can’t what?” he demanded as he stopped.

“Mama can’t know about this.”

“Of course she needs to know about this!” He scowled fiercely and his eyes narrowed with renewed rage.

“No, Jesse.” She pushed against his chest until he set her onto her feet. “I mean it. I’m not telling Mama and you aren’t, either.”

“You think so?” When she didn’t answer, simply crossed her arms over her chest and glared at him, he continued, “Desiree, be reasonable. You were attacked, would have been raped had I not come along when I did. Your parents need to know.”

Biting her lip, Desi turned away, unable to bear the concern in Jesse’s eyes, the softening he didn’t try to hide.

“She picked him, Jesse.”

“What?”

She shrugged. “Mama arranged my date with Steven. I didn’t want to go to the stupid dance, but she insisted. She took care of everything—my dress, my hair—” she gestured helplessly toward the door “—my date. If I told her how things ended—almost ended—she’d be devastated.

“She doesn’t need the guilt on top of everything else, Jesse.”

He sighed, his hands clasping her shoulders gently. “Desi, she’s your mother. Don’t you think she’d want to know? Doesn’t she have the right to know?”

“No!” Her voice was low but powerful. “She starts chemo again on Monday and she doesn’t need this hanging over her head.”

He started to object, but she placed her fingers over his mouth. “This isn’t open for negotiation, Jesse. I’m not telling her. And neither are you.”

His fingers wrapped around her wrist as his thumb stroked softly over her palm. “You have to promise me that you won’t have anything to do with him. Ever.” His voice was fierce, his eyes fiercer as they glared into hers. “I mean it, Desiree. Nothing. If that jackass so much as looks at you accidentally, I want to know about it.”

“Jesse—”

“Promise me.” His hands reached up, cupped her face. “Not telling your folks is against my better judgment and if you can’t promise me that you’ll let me protect you, Desiree, then this isn’t happening. We’ll go up to the house right now—”

“Okay,” she said. “I promise.”

He studied her, his eyes searching for something he must have found, for he nodded reluctantly. “Good enough. And I promise you he won’t hurt you again, Desi. I swear, no one will ever hurt you like that again.”

“Jesse—” Her voice broke and tears spilled before she could stop them.

“Shh, darlin’. Don’t cry.” He pulled her against him, his strong arms holding her tightly against his body. “I can’t stand to see you cry.”

His voice was low, strained, and his tenderness only made her weep harder. Cursing softly, he settled onto a nearby bench and pulled her onto his lap. She continued to sob, her heart aching from the bittersweet joy of being held so closely by the man she loved even as her body ached from the attack of another.

He rocked her, murmuring soothingly as he stroked her hair. “Desi, stop. Please stop. You’ll make yourself sick.”

But she couldn’t stop as the night’s events caught up with her.

He cursed again, his voice low and vicious, then his lips were skimming over her wet chin, her cheeks, up to her eyes to catch the tears before they could fall. She shuddered at the first touch of his lips, at the unbearable sweetness that came from being touched by Jesse.

Before he could move, before he could stop, she wrapped her arms around him, locking him against her. His lips moved over her cheek, again, and she turned her head slightly, just enough so that their lips met.

His lips closed over hers, gently, sweetly, and for a moment the earth ceased to spin. Her lungs stopped breathing, her heart stopped beating—everything she was and everything she had was focused on the tentative brush of his lips against hers.

Warmth started in her belly, spread outward slowly as her body came to life for the very first time. His mouth moved against hers, once, twice and the warmth became a burning she never could have imagined. She moaned, softly, and opened her lips.

Then it was over. Jesse stood, thrusting her away from him, his breathing harsh. “Desiree—”

“It’s okay.”

He shoved a hand through his unrestrained hair, his movements jerky and uncoordinated for the first time since she’d met him. “I’m sorry. I don’t—”

“Jesse,” she interrupted, waited until his gaze found hers. She nearly smiled at the confusion in them, nearly lit up as joy coursed through her. “It’s okay.”

“No, it’s not. I didn’t mean—”

“I know.”

“Desi—”

“Shh.” She reached up, her fingers once again resting against his mouth. “Jesse, stop. It’s okay. I understand.” She paused and her thumb stroked his cheek. “Really, I do. Thank you for comforting me, for saving me. I’m okay now.”

She reached down and gathered her shoes, feeling his gaze heavy upon her. She walked to the door, stopped, turned to face him. “Don’t beat yourself up over this, Jesse. I was the one who kissed you.”