Rush (Breathless #1)(98)

There were a lot of things he kept stocked now because of Mia’s preferences. He’d committed them to memory and then made certain he had the things she liked. He didn’t want to give her any reason not to want to stay over.

He put the soup, toast and her drink on a tray, and then carried it into the living room, placing it on the coffee table in front of her. He was still reluctant to wake her, but she needed to eat and he needed to determine her condition. If necessary, he’d call his personal physician and have him come over to see Mia here.

“Mia,” he said in a low voice. “Mia, wake up, honey. I brought you something to eat.”

She stirred, uttered a sleepy protest and then turned her head to the other side, her eyelashes fluttering as she closed her eyes again.

He chuckled. She never did like having her sleep disturbed.

He touched her cheek, tracing a path down to her jaw, enjoying the silky feel of her skin beneath his touch.

“Mia. Wake up, baby. Come on. Open those pretty eyes for me.”

She opened her eyes and her unfocused stare encountered his. To his surprise, fear registered, and something else he couldn’t quite put his finger on. Worry? Anxiety?

What the hell was going on here?

She yawned and rubbed her eyes, avoiding his gaze as she sat up. She clutched the covers around her in a manner that screamed self-preservation.

He had to bite his tongue to keep from demanding answers right here and now. There was something infinitely fragile about her right now. He hadn’t seen her this way since that night in Paris. His gut knotted just thinking about it.

“Hey sleepyhead,” he said in a gentle tone. “I brought you some soup. I see you didn’t eat your lunch.”

She grimaced. “I was cold and just wanted to get warm. Didn’t feel like eating.”

“Are you feeling okay? Are you unwell? I can have my doctor come see you.”

She licked her lips and shook her head. “I’m fine. Really. As soon as I got warm I was so sleepy that I couldn’t stay awake. But I feel fine. I promise.”

He didn’t quite believe her and he wasn’t sure why. There was something off about her even if she wasn’t ill. And there was the fact that it looked very much like she’d been crying. Maybe he was overreacting. Maybe she’d just rubbed her eyes before nodding off.

“Feel like eating now?” he prompted.

She eyed the tray on the coffee table and then nodded. “Starving.”

When she started to get up and move forward, he held out his hand to help her. She laced her fingers through his and pulled herself to a sitting position on the edge of the couch.

“Thanks,” she said huskily. “You’re so very good to me, Gabe.”

It wasn’t the first time she’d said such a thing, but every time she did, he was besieged by guilt. If he’d been as good to her as he should have been, he would have never allowed her to be abused by another man.

He watched as she ate, the need to touch her and shield her from whatever had caused her upset growing by the minute. It was an insatiable urge he had no control over. The strength of his attraction to her defied logic. But then when it came to her, it was clear he had no reason. No sanity. No ability to maintain any distance between them.

When she finished with her meal, she pushed back the blanket that was still halfway wrapped around her and to his surprise—and delight—she crawled onto the couch with him and wrapped herself around him.

He put his arm around her and then reached forward for the blanket that had fallen by the wayside. He pulled it over both of them and positioned her so she blanketed him, her body soft and warm against his.

He buried his nose in her hair, content to have her snuggled as close to him as possible.

“Thank you for dinner,” she said. “I just want you to hold me right now. It’s all I need to feel better.”

Her words spoke to the very heart of him. Said with utter sincerity. How simple she made it sound. She’d never asked anything of him. She was very undemanding. She didn’t give a shit about his money or what he could buy her. The only things she’d ever truly asked him for were so simple. Hold her. Touch her. Comfort her.

The idea that he held such power over her should have contented him. It was what he wanted, wasn’t it? Complete control. Her bending to his will. But instead it made him all too aware of the fact that he had the power to destroy her.

“Want to stay here in front of the fire or do you want to go to bed?” he asked as he stroked her hair.

“Mmmm,” she uttered in a sleepy, contented voice. “Here for a while, I think. It’s nice in front of the fire. I wonder if it’s snowing yet.”

He chuckled. “If it is I imagine it’s only flurries. We never do get much this early in the year.”

“Head hurts,” she murmured as she snuggled further into the crook of his shoulder.

He frowned. “Why didn’t you say something sooner? How bad is it?”

She shrugged. “Bad enough. I took some ibuprofen when I got home. I’d hoped that when I woke up it would be gone.”

He pushed her gently to the side and then disentangled himself from her and the blanket before rising from the couch. He strode into the kitchen, shook out one of the prescription painkillers from the bottle and then returned to Mia.

She frowned. “Those make me so fuzzy.”