Home > The Forbidden Billionaire (The Sinclairs #2)(26)

The Forbidden Billionaire (The Sinclairs #2)(26)
Author: J.S. Scott

“Mara! Thank fuck!” Jared exclaimed as he dropped down beside her on the grass, his chest heaving.

“Your brother saved my life,” she told him tearfully, her mind starting to finally process what had happened.

“He told me,” Jared grumbled, wrapping her body in a blanket that must have come from his vehicle.

“Everything’s gone,” she sobbed frantically, covering her face with her hands to keep from watching the rest of the house destroyed.

“You’re alive. That’s all that matters right now, Mara,” Jared rasped, gathering her into his arms and cradling her head against his shoulder.

She let Jared hold her, fisting his shirt to reassure herself that he was here, and that she actually was still alive. He was her anchor right now in this surreal, heart-wrenching nightmare.

Turning her face into his chest, she finally gave in to her sorrow completely and wept.

Hours later, Mara lay in the bed of one of Jared’s many guest rooms, unable to sleep. Fatigue was overwhelming her, but every time she closed her eyes, all she could see was everything she owned, every memory she had of her entire life going up in flames.

In the end, she’d left the house with nothing except her mother’s ring in her pocket.

Emptiness threatened to swallow her whole, and she shivered underneath the blankets even though the bedroom was warm.

“It’s as though I don’t exist anymore,” she whispered in the darkness. Daylight had come hours ago, but Jared had pulled the heavy drapes closed so she could sleep.

Jared.

He’d never left her side after he’d found her, waiting in the emergency room while they X-rayed her ankle and took blood to make sure she hadn’t gotten too much carbon monoxide from the fire. He’d sat beside her patiently, never leaving until he could take her from the hospital, bringing her home with him as though there was no question of where she was going. Physically, she was fine other than her sprained ankle, and the swelling was subsiding already, making the pain bearable. Even so, Jared had tended to her like she was fragile, finding her an old T-shirt to wear to bed after she’d showered, insisting that she sleep.

The fire was contained, no damage done to any other shops except hers. God, she was grateful that nobody else had lost anything, but even that knowledge didn’t lessen her pain.

“I have nothing now,” she whispered huskily, curling on her side in the bed. If she’d had very little before, the total of her belongings since everything had gone up in flames was zip . . . zero . . . zilch. Even the pajamas she’d been wearing had needed to be trashed.

“You have your life,” a husky male voice said from behind her. “You’re supposed to be sleeping.”

“I can’t,” she said tremulously.

The bed dipped heavily as Jared moved onto it behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist. “Not one damn thing in that house mattered except you.” He breathed a masculine sigh of contentment as he held her. “I couldn’t sleep, either. All I could think about was how close you came to dying in that damn house.”

Mara shook her head, but let Jared’s embrace warm her. “My mom’s stuff, my pictures—all gone. I don’t even have my driver’s license or an ID.” The warmth of his strong, muscular body soothed her, and she let herself relax back against him. She could tell he was fully clothed, feeling the denim of his jeans against her legs and his T-shirt against her neck. “I don’t even understand how this happened.”

“I know what happened,” Jared growled into her ear. “The fire investigators will look the place over, but I’m fairly certain they’ll find out the wiring in the place sucked and that it was run up in the attic. The water from the leaking roof probably sparked the shitty wiring. That house should have been renovated years ago. Homes that old can become a goddamn hazard if they aren’t updated right.”

“I suppose that’s possible.” Mara sighed.

“Probable,” Jared corrected.

“I feel . . . lost,” she admitted, hating her own weakness at the moment. She was going to have to move on eventually, but for now, she was still mourning. “Empty,” she added woefully.

Jared ran a soothing hand over her stomach. “Shhh . . . I’ll help you. I swear I will. Whatever you need to come alive again, I’ll get it for you.”

I need you.

His soothing, masculine voice was pulling her out of her haze of loneliness, the touch of his hands on her body making her feel again. Leaning her head back on his shoulder, she asked in a hushed voice, “Will you make love to me?” She needed him, wanted him to make her come alive again. The adrenaline was still pumping through her body, and she needed . . . something . . . anything to make it stop.

Not just anything. I need Jared.

He groaned into her ear. “Not this way. Fuck knows I want you so bad I can’t think, but I can’t do it this way.”

“Why?” she whimpered painfully, her core clenching as his palm moved slowly, gently over her belly.

“You’ve been through hell and back in the last eight hours. I might be an asshole, but I can’t take advantage of the fact that you’re in shock, you nearly died, and you think you’ve lost everything right now,” he rumbled, his deep voice vibrating against her back.

“I have lost everything,” she murmured.

“No you haven’t. You still have me,” he answered in a graveled voice.

“Then show me. I need something to hang on to.” She moved her hips backward, rubbing her ass against his hard erection, proof that he wanted her as much as she wanted him right now.

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