“I have to do something,” she told him desperately.
“Don’t even try it,” Dante told her irritably. Leaning down, he put a hand on each side of her hips, looking her straight in the eye. “Wherever you go, I’ll find you. Wherever you move, I’ll figure out where you are and follow you.”
“Are you threatening me?” she asked defensively.
“Nope. Those aren’t threats, those are promises. Trust me.”
Jesus. She’s a stubborn female.
Nevertheless, there was a part of her that was just so damn vulnerable, and Dante could see it. She could put on a brave face all she wanted to, but he understood the hell she’d been through, and he wanted her to finally live a life free of fear, a life that didn’t make her feel different or odd.
“I do trust you. I just don’t want to see you get hurt,” Sarah said hesitantly.
Dante slowly shook his head, unable to understand this woman who cared more about his safety than her own. Did she forget that he was a cop? “I won’t get hurt. This is what I do, Sarah. And I’ve done a hell of a lot more dangerous cases than this one.” But right now, none of them seemed as important as keeping Sarah safe from somebody who wanted her dead.
I need to protect her. If something happens to her, I’ll never forgive myself and I’ll never get over it. She’s mine to protect now.
“I want to resolve this. You’re right. I can’t run. I’d be putting other people in danger wherever I go. What can I do?” she asked, her voice resigned and determined now.
Obviously her rational mind is back. “Just don’t run away. I’m not in any shape to go chasing after you, but I will if I have to.”
Her face turned into an expression of concern. “Are you hurting?”
“No. But I will be if I have to come after your beautiful ass,” he told her in a voice of warning.
“You’re crazy. You know that, right? You hardly know me, yet you’re willing to be my personal bodyguard.” Her voice was bewildered.
“There’s no body I’d rather be guarding right now than yours, sweetheart.” He kissed her forehead before he stood up again. “I have future plans for it.”
“I’ve already told you that you don’t want to see me naked,” Sarah reminded him warily.
“Oh yeah, I do,” Dante contended, his hazel eyes narrowing into a challenging expression.
“Let’s just get this issue over with and out of the way,” she mumbled irritably.
Sarah stood up in front of him and stepped back. Dante watched in fascination as she crossed her arms, grabbed the hem of her makeshift nightgown, and lifted his T-shirt off of her body hastily, as though she might change her mind if she didn’t. She wasn’t wearing a stitch of clothing underneath the garment. She stood before him completely nude, and his cock was suddenly jerking in appreciation.
“This is the body you’ll see,” Sarah told him tremulously. “It’s nothing but scars. The knife wasn’t big, but the scars are numerous and not very pretty. I lived through the attack, but I see the reminders in the mirror every day.”
Dante stood there gaping at her as his eyes ran up and down her body. Sure, she had scars, but that was to be expected after what had happened to her. Otherwise, she was absolutely perfect, from her beautifully formed breasts with pink, generous nipples to her long legs that seemed to stretch forever. He tried not to think about those slender legs wrapped around his waist as he pounded into her until they were both spent, and failed miserably. The blonde thatch of hair between her thighs was as light as the hair on her head, and Dante wanted to bury his face between her legs and feast on her. Touching her had been mind-blowing, but tasting her would be fucking perfect.
Mine.
The word radiated through his body until he could barely keep himself from taking what he already knew belonged to him.
“Put the T-shirt back on.” His voice was coarse and graveled, his need to sweep her off to his bed nearly overpowering. But she’d been through too much today. Right now she needed a different kind of comfort, and he wanted to give her whatever she needed. “Go get some sleep.”
Holy shit. I need her to cover that beautiful body now, before I do something I might regret. Not that I’ll ever forget exactly what it looks like. It will be branded in my mind forever.
Fuck! He wanted her so badly he could hardly take a breath, but he didn’t want Sarah like this. He wanted her hot and begging, giving herself to him because she was burning with need. This wasn’t that kind of night, and he didn’t want any regrets later. Painfully, he shoved his carnal instincts down, but he had a hell of a time doing it with her standing naked in his den. Sex isn’t what she needs. Down, boy! What Sarah needed right now was a friend, and he’d be whatever she wanted him to be, even if it was nearly killing him.
“You can’t say I didn’t warn you about my body,” she mumbled as she pulled the T-shirt back over her head.
Dante watched in confusion as she turned on her heel and hurried out of the room. He heard the padded sound of her footsteps on the carpet as she raced up the stairs before he really understood exactly what was happening.
She thinks I didn’t want to look at her body because of her scars?
“Holy fuck!” Dante whispered fiercely, running a frustrated hand through his short hair. How could she not feel the sexual tension between them? Hell, his need was palpable, and thick enough that it was nearly choking him to death.
I see the reminders in the mirror every day.