Be My Hero (Forbidden Men #3)(42)

What had she said? I think I was little too busy trying not to come in my damn pants. Christ. She could spiff me up every day of the week. I reached out my hand and pressed it against the wall to support myself because all the blood was rushing to my dick and making me dizzy.

"Okay. Look up." Her voice grew huskier.

I lifted my face, sucking in a stuttered breath when our gazes met. Her pupils looked dilated and full of some of the same heat I was feeling. My nostrils flared, aching to draw in her lilac scent, but all I could smell was that f*cking mousse.

"You, uh . . . " She cleared her throat and tore her gaze away from mine to focus on whatever she was doing to my hair. Her fingers slowed as if she wanted to draw out our time together. God love her, the dirty tease. "There was actually something else I wanted to discuss with you."

Still refusing to look me in the eye, she sucked her bottom lip in between her teeth, just as she had when I'd been inside her. It was hotter than hot.

"'Kay," I slurred. "Shoot."

"Right." She nodded. "So, the last time we talked, I know you came up with this crazy assumption about me that . . . well . . . " She removed her fingers from my scalp and looked up, searing me with the very blue eyes I dreamed about nightly. "You were wrong, okay? Whatever you thought . . . It was just . . . It's not true. That . . . that never happened. Not to me." She gave me an encouraging, yet tense smile. "Okay?"

I watched her throat work as she swallowed. My gaze fell to her hands; she was wringing them unconsciously at her waist. Lifting my eyes again, I took in the determination and desperation in her expression and nodded slowly. "Okay," I said, giving a little shrug as if it were no big deal.

"Okay," she repeated with a forceful nod, before a scowl line deepened between her eyes. "Wait. I just stressed over this for two freaking weeks, unable to stop worrying about what you thought of me and who you were going to blab to. And all you have to say is okay?" She set her hands on her hips and scowled.

Her miffed temper was so adorable it made me smile. It reminded me of the Tinker Bell I'd built her up in my mind to be, a sassy soul mate who'd argue with me even when I was trying to be completely compliant.

Fuck, maybe she wasn't exactly as she'd advertised herself to be on her Facebook page. Maybe she wasn't quite the rich, entitled spoiled princess I'd convinced myself she was. Which was bad. Thinking she was more like what I'd envisioned instead of what I'd feared, made my heart think I could actually reach her and have her.

But I couldn't.

With my hand still braced against the wall, I leaned in to her, hovering above her. "What do you want me to say, Tink? That I know you're lying? That I know it really did happen, and that the very thought of it rips me in f*cking half? That I want to find the monster or monsters that hurt you and destroy them with my bare hands? Is that what you'd prefer?"

Her eyes widened and her breath puffed from her parted lips. "I . . . " She shook her head. "Actually, no. You're right. 'Okay' was a good answer, after all."

"Yeah. It sure as hell was." Then I grinned, loving that I could finally smell her lilac scent again. "Don't worry, sweetheart. I'll keep your secret. If you promise me one thing in return."

She jerked backward away from me, glowering. "I don't make deals."

"Relax." With a low chuckle, I caught a piece of her hair between my fingers and nearly whimpered when I felt how soft it was. It was exactly as I remembered in my visions. "I just want you to tell me you're no longer in danger. If I know he can't get to you anymore, I'll leave it alone and pretend like I'm a clueless dumbass. Okay?"

The vulnerability in her expression made every protective instinct in me kick into gear. I just wanted to scoop her up and carry her away somewhere safe, where no one could ever bother her again.

"I'm no longer in danger," she dutifully assured me, even as her eyes flared with shock, as if she couldn't believe she'd just let me know I hadn't been wrong after all.

I closed my eyes briefly, because I'd still been clinging to the hope that I might've been wrong. But now that she'd confirmed it, grief gripped my throat, making my words gritty when I said, "Good." Leaning down, I pressed my lips to her forehead. "Thank God."

She scurried away from me with a gasp. "You shouldn't do that."

I blinked, bewildered. "Do what?"

"Kiss me!"

Blurting out a laugh, I caught her hand and tugged her closer. I didn't like her being more than five feet away. "Pressing my mouth to your forehead isn't—" But my words stalled on my tongue when she looked up at me. Her blue eyes were big and wide, full of heat and fear. I swallowed. "Well it wasn't supposed to be anything. Just . . . you know . . . friendly affection."

God, that sounded lame.

But she nodded as if desperate to buy that. "Good, then." She wiggled her fingers out of mine and began to stroke them with her other hand as if my touch had seared her. "I wouldn't want your wife coming after me with a sawed-off shotgun or anything."

Took me a second to remember who she was talking about. It was still ingrained in my head that she was the only woman I'd ever marry. For a moment, I entertained a ridiculous image of her chasing herself around with a gun. It was an animated vision, like something straight off Looney Tunes.