Fever (Breathless #2)(32)

“Thank you,” she said again. “It was foolish of me. Thank you for stopping me and for being so kind.”

Jace tucked Bethany’s hand in his and pulled her toward the elevator. He didn’t say anything to her on the trip back up. Just held her closely, melded to his side. He liked the feel of her against him. Soft and pliant. A perfect complement to his much harder body.

But then he frowned as he realized she was pliant because she was . . . defeated.

Oh hell no. She wasn’t going back into his apartment as some whipped puppy.

As the elevator doors slid open, he tugged her against his chest and tipped her chin up so she was forced to look at him.

“You come into this apartment, you do it with your chin up and your shoulders back,” he said. “You don’t come in here beaten down or scared. This is your place. Your sanctuary. This is the one place, above all others, where you are absolutely safe from the outside world. From judgment and harm. Got it?”

She stared at him a long moment, her eyes somber and thoughtful. But what hurt him the most was that for a brief moment, hope flickered in her gaze and just as quickly shut down. Like hope was such a foreign concept that she wouldn’t allow herself to have it.

Then finally she nodded and whispered, “Got it.”

He kissed her forehead, feeling her tremble against him. “No, you don’t get it, baby. But you will. I promise you that.”

He tugged her into his apartment and let the elevator doors close behind them. She looked exhausted. Physically and emotionally. It was relatively early by his standards, but at the moment he couldn’t think of anything more he’d like to do than to take her to bed and let her sleep in his arms. He wanted her to feel protected. Safe. Most important, cherished. Like she mattered.

She didn’t have any experience in any of those. That much was evident in the painful retelling of her childhood and her adult years. He couldn’t change her past, but he could sure as hell change the present and alter the course of her future.

“Let’s go to bed. You’re wiped,” Jace said.

Her gaze skittered nervously up to his. Her eyes were wide in her face, giving her a haunted look. She really was too thin but her beauty . . . it shone like a beacon. There was something arresting about her eyes and her face. He couldn’t explain why he’d been so inexorably drawn to her that very first night he’d seen her across the room at Mia’s party. But he’d known even then that she was his.

“Baby, I’m not going to jump you,” Jace murmured.

He took her hands and rubbed his thumbs up the backs, working in soothing circles.

She swallowed and then nodded. “I’m tired.”

“You’re wiped,” he repeated.

Still holding her hand, he pulled her toward his bedroom and once there, he closed the door behind them. Then he turned and grasped the hem of her shirt and began tugging it over her head.

She clamped down an arm, her eyes flaring with alarm.

He waited a moment, staring intently into her eyes. “Baby, in that bed, there is nothing between us. No clothing, barriers, nothing. I said I wasn’t going to jump you, and that’s true. I won’t lie to you. But you aren’t wearing those clothes to bed. Besides the fact they don’t fit you worth a damn, anytime you sleep in my bed, you’re naked.”

“I’ll get cold,” she said with a frown.

He smiled at the quick excuse and her attempt to keep that barrier between them. She’d learn soon enough that he’d allow none between them.

“I’ll keep you warm.”

She bit her lip in consternation and then sighed, lowering her arm in a gesture of surrender.

“Remember,” he said softly. “You don’t come here beaten down and defeated. You hold your head up. You submitting to me doesn’t mean you’re anything less. I’m a demanding bastard. No doubt about that. But the very last thing I want is for you to be some mindless puppet.”

Confusion clouded her beautiful blue eyes. “I guess I don’t understand. Any of this. I’m confused, Jace. This is so . . . overwhelming.”

He kissed her nose and then slowly worked her shirt upward. “We have all the time in the world. I want you to trust me. As long as you can do that, everything will work out just fine. I’ll take care of you and I’ll never do anything to overwhelm you.”

“But I just said I’m overwhelmed!” she protested.

He grinned and tugged the shirt the rest of the way, baring her br**sts—and the bruises—to his gaze.

“I just want you naked. Overwhelming would be if I was going to f**k you tonight. That’ll come tomorrow. Tonight is for you to adjust to being here.”

Her mouth fell open. “And you don’t consider that overwhelming?”

“Nope.”

“Evidently you and I have different opinions on what constitutes being overwhelming,” she muttered.

“Now that I like,” he said with satisfaction.

She lifted an eyebrow as he went to work on the fly of her jeans.

“You being sassy. You’ve got fire, Bethany. You haven’t lost that. You’re f**king perfect for me.”

“You’re crazy,” she muttered again. “Or maybe I’m crazy.”

“As long as we’re crazy together, I’m good with it.”