Keep Me Safe (Slow Burn #1)(39)

Caleb’s hand twisted in her hair. He pressed his lips to her temple so he could feel the reassuring puff of her breath against his neck.

“She’s alive,” Caleb said tersely. “I’m taking her upstairs.”

Caleb slowly got to his feet, mindful of jostling his precious burden. He scooped her into his arms and strode for the stairs, her pale face still buried against his chest. His heart thumped rapidly, fear still a living, breathing entity inside him.

He’d lived without fear for most of his life. Only in the last year had he been made vulnerable, realizing what it truly meant to be afraid every minute of every day. He hated fear. It was a paralyzing quality that he had no use for. And yet with allowing himself to care about someone came the knowledge that he’d live with fear the rest of his life because there were simply some things out of his control.

He carried Ramie into his bedroom, easing her down onto his mattress. Her hands and feet were blocks of ice, her skin so chilled she seemed tinged with blue. He pulled the covers back and then crawled into bed with her, pulling her body into his, offering his warmth to her.

She never even stirred, her breathing so light that he continually sought reassurance that she was breathing at all.

What the hell was he going to do? He’d never felt so goddamn helpless in his life. There was no amount of money he could throw at this problem to make it go away. Money had long since lost any intrinsic value to him. It was simply a tool like any other that made life more comfortable. It certainly didn’t solve all of life’s problems and it didn’t make him immune to hardship and pain.

He inhaled the scent of her hair, closed his eyes and wondered what the hell he was going to do to make her pain go away.

She murmured something unintelligible and burrowed more firmly into his embrace. The small gesture gave him a measure of comfort. He relaxed, allowing the brief spurt of pleasure at having her molded against his body to surge hotly through his veins.

He would be here when she woke, so she didn’t wake alone and frightened. No matter how long she slept, he’d be here, holding her when she came back.

NINETEEN

IT was nearly two in the morning before Ramie finally stirred. Caleb had lain tensely beside her all afternoon and evening, worrying over the fact she’d been out for so long. The moment he felt her move, he tensed and glanced at the clock beside his bed. He’d only just fallen into a light sleep.

A low whimper of distress escaped her lips. His hand immediately cupped her cheek and he tilted his head so his lips covered hers. She went utterly still against him. He could practically hear her working it all out in her mind. Remembering the torment she’d endured and her sudden awareness of where she was now.

Her body shook with silent sobs. It broke his heart to hear how defeated and hopeless she sounded.

“You aren’t alone, Ramie,” he whispered against her ear.

“He killed her. Oh God, Caleb, he killed her. He used her to bait me.”

“Shhh, baby. It’s not your fault.”

Her fingers curled into his chest and her lips turned up against his neck. He felt the dampness on her cheeks and he kissed one of the tear trails away.

“Make me forget,” she said brokenly. “Please. I can’t bear it. She’s all I can see. And all I know is that I failed her.”

Caleb shook her a little, placing himself on eye level with her as he stared fiercely at her. “You did not fail her, Ramie. If you want to start assigning blame, then blame the right person. That sick bastard out there stalking you.”

He rubbed his hand up and down her back, underneath the hem of her T-shirt, up her bare spine to her nape. He trailed his fingers around to her stomach and then up, molding her breast in his palm.

His lips stuttered over hers, sucking in her sob, her breath, and returning it in a heated rush. His thumb rasped over her nipple, teasing it to a puckered, rigid peak. Her arm slid around his waist, anchoring herself against him. Her hand splayed wide over his back just as he rolled her underneath him, pushing her shirt upward with his right hand.

His skin was on fire, wanting, needing to touch her, to caress her. He’d never been so patient and gentle before. He wasn’t sure she even knew what she’d asked him, and he’d never take advantage of her. He gave her time to tell him no, to change her mind, and then he wondered if he should say no for her, if she would hate him for making love to her.

“Ramie, baby.”

Her lips whispered over his neck, up to his ear, where she nipped the lobe, sending a cascade of chills spilling over his skin.

“Tell me you want this,” he rasped. “Be sure. I’ve already done enough to make you hate me.”

“I don’t hate you,” she whispered back. “I understand. You don’t have to keep explaining, Caleb. I’m so cold. Keep me warm.”

His knee nudged her legs apart, rubbing over the thin material of her underwear. She shivered when his fingers dipped below the band and into her plush folds. She was damp, but not wet enough to take him yet.

He pulled her shirt up over her head then wrestled with his own as her hands tangled, trying to take it off him. There was a sense of urgency even as he tried to slow the pace down. He didn’t want to overwhelm her. He didn’t want her to do something she’d regret. But at the same time he wanted her with a desperation he’d never felt for a woman before.