Chapter 23

Dan leanedback in his chair after dinner and considered the woman opposite him. "I think it's time we talked about your nightmares."

She stiffened. "I don't see the point in that. They're just stupid dreams."

Dan smiled slightly. "They're more than that, and we both know it. My question is why you don't want to talk about them. And why they are so frequent.'"

Emma's eyes narrowed. "What is there to talk about? Dreams are just…" She paused and shrugged. "People have them all the time. I hardly remember them when I wake up."

Dan crossed his arms over his chest. "Don't lie."

Her cheeks flushed and she opened her mouth.

Jesus, he really didn't want to punish her. "Just be very sure you want to say what's on your mind right now. Because if you spout more lies, the consequences will be ugly."

Emma straightened and glared at him.

Dan rose from his seat, and turned her chair so she was facing him, and went on his haunches. "If you're uncomfortable sharing the truth with me, say ‘I don't want to talk about it,' but don't lie and say it's nothing. Because I fucking know it is something, all right."

Her gaze dropped.

"Look. I can see this makes you uncomfortable, but I think this–whatever it is–has a hold on you. It could help if you talked about it."

"Talk about it," she scoffed. "Believe me, I did. Went through counseling and all that."

Dan rose, scooped her up from her chair and… and sat back down in his own seat with her on his lap. "Counseling? So, you're reliving something in your dreams?"

"Yeah." She bit her lip.

Would she be able to trust him—to let him in completely and irrevocably?

"Can you tell me what happened?"

She shook her head. "I'm just being silly. It's in the past."

"Nothing about emotions, nightmares, or traumas is silly, Sparks. Why are you so reluctant to tell?"

"Because it's really just nothing. Nothing happened. A lot of bad things could have happened, but it didn't. And I'm an emotional mess over something that might have happened, while people fight wars, get assaulted, and murdered. And I can get past…" Her voice broke, and hot tears soaked through his shirt. She wriggled to get up.

"Shh, shh," he soothed.

She didn't stop her struggles.

"Don't." He infused as much authority in his voice as he could muster.

She stilled.

Good.

"If you have to cry, you don't do it alone. I love you, Sparks, and I want to share everything in life with you–joy and laughter as well as sorrow and tears."

He could relate to not wanting to confide an ugly past. But this seemed more than being ashamed. He needed to understand.

The woman on his lap stiffened. She wasn't used to leaning on others, Dan reminded himself. Hadn't had the luxury for a long time. "Don't you know that I want to take care of you–hold you and love you, just like this?"

The only indication she heard his words was a small jerk of her head. She hadn't known.

He tightened his hold on her. "Oh, Sparks," he muttered, burying his face in her hair. A shudder racked through her entire body–then another–and another.

Settling in for a good, long cry, Dan shifted her to a bit more comfortable position on his lap and leaned back in his chair. "I have you, Sparks. You can lean on me."

A sob escaped and the dam burst. Emma cried in long, shuddering sobs, soaking his shirt and clutching at his biceps.

Dan didn't speak, just patiently rocked her, and waited for her to work through whatever she had stored up.

There was something cathartic in the moment for him as well. For a strong woman like Emma to break down in his arms and to let him to hold her and comfort her, that was trust. It signified a different element of the power exchange, but it was one he loved and craved.

Emma's weight against him grew heavier. Dan reached for the tissue box and pulled out a wad. Handing it to her, he sat them both more upright. Emma cleaned her face and hesitated.

Dan grinned. "You can blow your nose."

First, she gave him a horrified stare, but when he laughed out loud, she shrugged and did as he told.

"Now. That's better."

She scowled. "Better? My throat hurts and my eyes burn."

"Ah." He tapped her red nose. "But that's superficial." He moved his hand to her sternum and pressed his palm there. "How does it feel here? Deep inside."

That earned him another glare, then Emma sighed.

* * *

She hadn't lied—she hurt—but deep down?

Emma closed her eyes and puckered her forehead. What had she told him? Not much! A sigh escaped her.

"Emma?"

She opened her eyes and stared at Dan. Steady as a rock, he'd held her through her second bout of crying, and she felt…. "Lighter, more balanced, I guess."

"Balanced is good." One side of his face crept up in a teeny-tiny smile and the sunline beside his eyes crinkled. His top shirt buttons were open to show the wide column of his throat and gave a tantalizing glimpse at the muscles beneath his shirt—a tear-dampened shirt.

She dropped her gaze, but Dan wasn't having that. He tipped back her head with a careful but insistent finger beneath her chin. "You mentioned what happened shouldn't have bothered you, but it does."

Insistent bastard. But she couldn't get angry with him. Her nightmares woke him up, too. And despite counseling, they kept getting worse.

Emma"s fingers trembled as she faced Dan, the words she"d held back for so long threatening to choke her. She took a deep breath, seeking the courage she needed to share her darkest moment. "About a year ago, I was attacked in the hospital parking lot. The person... they never caught him. I don"t even know why it happened."

Dan"s expression tightened, a mix of concern and anger flashing in his eyes. But he stayed silent, giving her the space to continue.

"I was knocked down from behind." A painful lump formed in her throat, and she swallowed. "A guard saw it and came to my rescue. I was lucky, but I broke my arm in the fall. More than that, it broke something inside me, my sense of safety... my courage."

She stared over his shoulder at the wall, unable to hold Dan"s gaze. The weight of her vulnerability pressed down on her like granite rocks, but she continued, "I"ve been escorted to my car ever since. I can walk to the hospital just fine, but leaving... I just can"t make my feet move, even after all the counseling."

Dan reached out, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder. "What made you start self-defense training and kickboxing when you did?"

She hesitated, the memory of that day flooding back with vivid intensity. "A little while before I joined, something happened at work. A patient"s family member became aggressive, accusing me of not doing enough. His anger, his stance, it all brought back that night. I froze, Dan. I couldn"t move, couldn"t speak. I just waited for the blow, even though it never came."

She blinked rapidly and faced him again. "I realized then that I couldn"t live like that, always waiting for the next attack, always scared. Kickboxing, self-defense... it"s my way of fighting back, of trying to regain control over my life."

Dan enveloped her in a warm, secure embrace. "I'm proud of you."

"Proud? You shouldn't be proud. I'm such a coward."

"A coward?" Dan's voice boomed, and he shook her lightly. "Woman! You're facing your fears head on. I can see it every time you step into the gym. You're probably the most hardworking, honest, and dedicated person I know. A coward." He let out a derisive snort. "I should spank you for that."

"What?"