Fury on Fire (Devil's Rock #3)(53)

He pounded on her door. “Faith! Faith!”

She opened quickly enough, but it felt like forever. Forever standing there and worrying that she wasn’t okay on the other side of that door. Worrying that leaving her alone after her attack had been a mistake. He should have stayed longer and made sure she was okay.

It was a terrible feeling—one he had vowed never to feel again. He’d cared and worried for Katie and look where that had gotten him. Look where it had gotten her.

“North.” She breathed his name, her eyes wide and haunted in her face. She had showered. Her hair was wet and she was wearing her robe again. That damn robe.

“Are you all right?” He looked her up and down as though checking for injuries. Bare skin peeked out at him between the open lapels of her robe, the V of skin distracting him.

He swallowed, gave a single, hard shake, commanding himself not to think about what was under that robe—or rather what was not under it. “Do you need something?”

“I—I can’t—” She stopped and looked down for a moment, inhaling a shuddery breath. Composed again, she lifted her gaze back up. “I don’t want to be alone.”

He nodded with a swift inhalation. “Sure. I get that. Do you want me to call—”

“Can you stay with me the night?”

“Me?” She wanted him to sleep over?

“I just can’t be alone.” She quickly went on to say, “I’m not asking for you to sleep with me . . . just sleep with me.”

“Of course.” The last thing she was looking for was a roll in the sack. She’d just been through a traumatic event. She wasn’t here asking for him to rock her world.

“Would you mind?” She looked up at him, her wide eyes so guileless and unaware of what she was asking. Would you mind? Would he mind spending the night with her? Sleep next to her and not touch her?

He nodded and entered her house, stepping past her. She closed and locked the door behind her.

She smiled tentatively and stood before him for a moment, her hands worrying the lapels of her robe. She looked so small and vulnerable, two words he would have never used to describe her before. He didn’t like it. He wanted the fiery Faith back, but he knew that was about him and this wasn’t about what he wanted or needed right now. She’d been through hell tonight and he would be there for her because she asked for it.

“You sure you don’t want to call your father or brother?”

She let go of her robe and hugged herself, shaking her head firmly. “Oh, hell no.” She released a choked laugh. “They’d come over with a U-Haul. You know this is my first home. They were never keen on me living alone, and tonight doesn’t do much to help my case.”

“I understand.” And he did. He would have been the same way with Katie.

Faith inclined her head toward the stairs, and then led the way. He followed, realizing belatedly as he ascended that he was only wearing his briefs. He hadn’t taken the time to throw on jeans. At least it was something though. Half the time he slept naked.

She moved ahead of him to turn off her bathroom light, plunging the room into darkness. It took his eyes a moment to acclimate to the dark and make out the outline of her in the gloom. She dropped her robe, so he guessed she wasn’t totally naked underneath it. She pulled back the covers on the right side of the bed, nearest to the bathroom.

He rounded the bed, tugging down the covers on that side.

Springs squeaked softly and sheets whispered as she slid into bed. He hesitated and took a bracing breath. He knew this was just for comfort, so she wouldn’t be alone, but it still felt awkward. He couldn’t recall ever sleeping with a woman and not having sex with her.

“North?”

The soft utterance scratched the space between them. She might as well have said please again. That’s what his name sounded like in her voice. A plea.

“Yeah?” He slid into bed beside her, not touching, keeping as much space between them as possible. He was determined to hold himself back and not take advantage of her. Not like this. Not when she was vulnerable and shaken. He held himself still. Rigid. Probably too rigid. It was going to be a long night.

“Thank you,” she whispered into the quiet of her room.

“No problem.” He slept with plenty of women. So what if this time he would actually sleep with one? It was late. He was tired. He could do this.

There was a rustle of movement and he felt fingers brush his arm. He jerked slightly.

“Sorry,” she murmured. “C-could I maybe hold your hand? Just until I fall asleep?”

He lifted her hand from his arm and laced his fingers through hers. “Of course.” Their arms stretched between them, not touching except for where their fingers were linked, the only point of contact. Her hand felt small and slim clasped in his. Their palms were flush and he could feel the steady pulse of her heartbeat, fusing with his own.

His chest swelled with something he had never felt. Something that made him want to do more than hold her hand. It made him want to pull her against him and fold her into his arms. It also, ironically, made him want to bolt out the door.

Hopefully she would fall asleep soon and he could let go of her hand and scoot to the edge of the bed until he fell asleep. Hopefully.





TWENTY