Chapter 23

23

Grace slumped on the bed.

She was too tired to even cry. Mechanically, she reached for the folded pajamas, the fabric silky against her fingertips. Clutching them to her chest, she pushed to her feet, padding into the adjoining bathroom on leaden legs.

The bathroom was as opulent as the rest of the house—all sleek lines and elegant fixtures. Twin vanities flanked a large mirror, the inset basins pristine. Heat radiated up from the tiled floor against her cold feet. On the far side, a glass-enclosed shower beckoned, the promise of steaming water and fragrant soap almost unbearably tempting.

But her weariness was bone deep. Showering could wait until she'd managed a few hours of oblivion. She undressed, piling her borrowed clothes on the floor and pulling on the short-sleeved blue pajamas. The cotton was luxuriously smooth. Even that small comfort almost undid her. The simple act of kindness from a man who owed her nothing.

By the time she emerged from the bathroom, Caleb had returned, carrying a tray with two mugs of steaming tea as well as a slender carafe of water. He set the tray on the nightstand as she slid beneath the covers, then he sat on the edge of the bed, the mattress dipping under his weight.

He knuckled one finger under her chin. "You okay?"

A shiver raced down her spine that had nothing to do with the chill that had taken up permanent residence in her bones.

He checked her hands. "God, Grace, you're freezing." A frown tugged at the corners of his mouth.

"I think it's just stress." She tried to summon a reassuring smile. He had already done so much for her. She didn't want to worry him any more than was necessary. "I can't seem to get warm."

Everything had happened so fast. The soul-searing kiss they'd shared, the desperate flight from the cabin, the adrenalin-fueled nightmare of escape... it all swirled together in a kaleidoscope of sensations that left her feeling raw and exposed.

"Here. Drink some of this." He handed her a mug of tea. Grace inhaled the delicate scent of bergamot as she took a tentative sip. "Earl Gray. One of my favorites." The rich, smoky flavor was an unexpected comfort.

He lifted an eyebrow. "Guess I got lucky."

"Yes…"

He cleared his throat. "Well… I'll just crash on the couch." Caleb gestured toward the dove-gray sofa tucked against the far wall.

It looked so far away.

Grace set her tea aside. "Please. I don't want to be alone. Sleep here…in the bed with me."

She braced herself for rejection, sure that he would tell her that the kiss, the connection she sensed between them, was a mistake. A moment of weakness brought on by the heightened emotion of the situation.

He studied her for a long moment, his expression unreadable. "Here? In the bed?"

"Yes." The word escaped on a shaky exhale. Every nerve in her body was attuned to this gorgeous man who had been her unwavering protector from the moment their paths collided. She was so used to Richard telling her what she wanted, the act of making this choice for herself felt monumental.

I choose you, Caleb.

He held her gaze a beat longer before nodding once. "Alright."

Her breath hitched in her throat as he stood up and tugged his shirt over his head in one fluid motion. Nothing could have prepared her for the sight of him bared to the waist in the golden lamplight. Corded muscle flexed beneath taut skin, his broad shoulders tapering to a trim waist and flat, ridged stomach. A light dusting of hair covered his chest, narrowing into a tantalizing trail that disappeared into the waistband of his dark cargos.

Holy mother of God. It was all she could do to remember to breathe.

Sculpted. That was the only word for him. As if a sculptor had chiseled him from granite, every plane and angle honed to perfection. Her pulse thundered in her veins as a curl of raw desire stretched luxuriously in her belly.

After everything she'd endured, she'd long believed she would never feel visceral attraction again, but she couldn't deny the answering heat building within her. She wanted Caleb with a ferocity that made her knees weak.

Her heart stuttered in her chest as he reached for the fly of his pants, the rasp of the zipper loud in the hushed room. The fabric parted, revealing dark boxer briefs that did little to conceal the thick ridge of his cock. She swallowed hard, her mouth dry as her gaze traveled down the powerful lines of his legs.

"Lie down, Grace." His voice was a commanding rumble.

Yes.

She lay down, sinking against plush pillows as Caleb flicked off the bedside lamp. The mattress dipped once more as he stretched out behind her, the heat of his body searing through the thin barrier of her borrowed pajamas.

He slid one arm beneath her pillow. The other draped across her waist, his large hand splaying possessively over her stomach as he drew her against his hard body. His clean musky scent permeated her brain, chasing away the night's fear till there was nothing but Caleb, his heat, his solidity, his protection.

She closed her eyes, trying to breathe. His sheer size surrounded her. The heat radiating from the unyielding wall of his muscles at her back was staggering. Where his bare flesh touched hers, she felt scorched, as if the atoms of her being were being rearranged by his proximity. Surely, nothing should feel as good as this? His body molded itself to every curve and hollow of hers, his touch marking her in ways she couldn't comprehend.

He nuzzled her hair. "Sleep, Grace. You're safe tonight."

His warmth seeped into her, obliterating the empty cold that had lived in her for far too long.

She couldn't remember ever being held like this. Richard had insisted on separate bedrooms, only sharing a bed when he wanted sex. But here, now, cocooned in Caleb's arms, she felt treasured.

Gradually, the soothing cadence of his heartbeat lulled her, making her limbs heavy and warm. She fell asleep free of shadows, secure, knowing this man—this guardian—would protect her.