Defending Raven (Mountain Mercenaries #7)(61)

But he wouldn’t.

She’d stake not only her life, but her son’s life, on that fact.

The certainty rose up within her until she wanted nothing more than to feel Dave’s arms around her. To feel him over her, looking down at her tenderly as they made love.

She’d used her precious memories as an escape when she’d been made to do things with other men. And now, she had her beautiful, tender husband back. It had been years since she’d had sex, and a decade since she’d made love. She wasn’t ready to jump back into the saddle, so to speak, but for the first time, she realized she wanted the intimacy she’d once had with her husband. She wanted to lie in bed with him for hours and simply explore. Wanted to feel the euphoria that she’d only felt with him. Wanted to show him how much she loved him.

Feeling stronger than she could remember feeling in a very long time, Mags peeled her shirt off over her head. She shoved her pants down her legs and took a deep breath. Leaving on her underwear and bra, she pulled back the curtain and stepped into the shower.

The look on Dave’s face was one of disbelief and hope all at the same time. He kept his eyes on her face as he asked, “Are you sure?”

Mags nodded. “I need to make sure you don’t bleed to death in here. Give me the soap, and I’ll clean your back. You stink.” She smiled slightly and held out a hand that only shook a little bit.

Dave put the bar of soap into her hand, then turned away to face the water. He lifted his head and let the water hit his upper chest.

Mags knew the warm water had to hurt the wound on his neck, but he didn’t even flinch. She lathered the soap and began to wash her husband. Even this brought back memories. Good ones. Of them laughing and playing together in the shower in Vegas, enjoying the intimacy.

When she was done with his back side, he turned and put his hands behind his head, showing her without words that he wouldn’t touch her without permission.

Mags did her best to clean his chest and legs quickly, without letting him know how hard this was for her. But he knew anyway. When she straightened and held out the soap to him, he whispered, “I’m in awe of you, Raven. I always knew you were strong, but I never knew how much until this trip. Will you let me return the favor? I swear you can trust me.”

Swallowing hard, Mags nodded. She needed to look at his wound and figure out if he needed stitches, and they both needed to find their son, but at this moment, in their little bubble, she needed to prove to him, and herself, that del Rio hadn’t broken her permanently.

As if he could read her mind, Dave said, “Later, when we don’t need to be out there looking for our son, I want to do this again. Take my time. Show you how much you mean to me.”

Mags swallowed hard and nodded once more.

She turned around and presented her back to Dave, figuring it would be easier if he started there. He quickly soaped her up, his hands kneading her shoulders briefly as he washed her. He knelt down and took each of her feet in his hands and washed them thoroughly. His hands on her calves almost made her knees give out. Then he was standing once again.

She turned to face him.

Ever so gently, Dave soaped up her neck, then each arm. He then knelt down once more and washed the front of her legs. He lathered his hands again and put the bar of soap on a small ledge in the shower. His hands touched her waist, and he gently caressed her belly and sides, making sure not to stray too far north or south. After he was done, he shifted until the water hit her and rinsed away the bubbles.

The washing had been swift and efficient, but still tender and loving. It was a dichotomy, just like he was.

As Mags watched the soap swirl down the drain, it felt somewhat like a new beginning. Out with the old and in with the new. This was her husband. A man she loved with all her heart. A man who’d never stopped looking for her when most people would’ve assumed she was long since dead. A man who would never stop looking until he found their son and brought him home.

She hadn’t seen the angry Mountain Mercenary side of him until he’d come through the door a short while ago, but strangely enough, it didn’t scare her; it comforted her. Del Rio was ruthless, and her husband needed to be just as ruthless, or more so, if he was going to keep her and her son safe.

Taking a deep breath, she gently touched Dave’s chin. “Look up. Let me see it.”

He did as she ordered, another thing that made Mags realize down to the marrow of her bones that she was safe with this man. He was bigger than she was. Stronger. And yet, he was doing what she asked, making himself vulnerable to her. It was a heady feeling.

The wound on his neck didn’t look nearly as bad now that he wasn’t covered in blood. It was thankfully shallow. She figured a few butterfly bandages would be sufficient to close it up for now. The cut went from right to left, but by the grace of God hadn’t been deep enough to cut his jugular or for Dave to bleed out. She touched the edge of the wound with one finger, not even wanting to think about how close he’d come to dying.

Dave’s eyes closed, and he asked, “Can I hold you?” He didn’t move an inch, didn’t crowd her or try to influence her.

Without a word, Mags stepped close to her husband and wrapped her arms around his waist. She laid her head on his chest and held her breath, waiting for the panic to rise up within her at being so close to a man.

Miraculously, she felt nothing but contentment.