Chapter 31

Thirty-One

The day after the arrests starts with a flurry of phone calls and paperwork and calls from the press that we refer to Ash's public relations chief, a tall, fifty-something woman with a no-nonsense attitude that goes hand-in-hand with a Mama Bear kind of protectiveness. I immediately adore her, all the more so because she's not only handling comments for Ash and me, but she's very strongly stated her opinion that we should make no media comments at all. And that's a policy I'm very happy to get behind.

Noah stays around for the next two days until we're certain everything is wrapped up tight, then he hits the road, eager to get to Manhattan. I'm sad to see him go, but also glad that Ash and I will be alone. Since the moment we landed in Austin, we'd been swept up in a flurry of activity and people.

"Whatever will we do with ourselves?" he teases.

"I can't imagine," I say, returning his grin.

"I do have a meeting at five," he says. "You're welcome to come, but we're going to be talking engines. My feelings won't be hurt if you'd rather hang around the condo. Or explore Austin, for that matter."

"How long is your meeting?"

"Shouldn't be much more than an hour. I'm meeting at their office. With travel time, I expect I'll be back no later than seven."

"Why don't you show me a little bit of downtown, buy me lunch, and then we can come back here for some recreational activities before you head off to do the Big Shot Corporate Dude thing."

"Recreational?"

"You know. Tennis. Rugby. Really hot sex. Take your pick."

"I haven't played tennis in ages."

"Imagine what you could do with a racquet."

He laughs. "Now I'll be thinking that during my meeting."

"You're welcome." I lift a shoulder. "Has to be more scintillating than engine talk."

He brushes the pad of his thumb over my lips. "Definitely."

We agree not to talk about the kidnapping or the arrest, and my initial fear that the morning will be filled with gaps of awkward silence—after all, that's certainly been the focus of our lives and conversation for the last few days—turns out to be completely wrong.

Instead, we talk about everything and nothing. From the architecture of the buildings on Austin's famous Sixth Street, to the height of the capitol building at the end of Congress Avenue, to our favorite television shows, to which local speakeasy we're going to check out that evening.

Any stretches of silence that sneak into the day are the comfortable kind. The whole day, in fact, is the comfortable kind. And by the time we return to his condo after lunch, I'm certain that the way I've come to feel about Ash isn't because he's the man who saved me, but because he's the man who fits me, like that one final piece in an unfinished jigsaw puzzle. You can tell what the picture is without it, sure. But the puzzle's not complete until that piece fills the gap.

"What?" he asks as we return to the condo, and I realize I'm lingering in the open doorway, just soaking him in.

"Just—thank you," I say, because you fill my gap sounds a little pervy.

He raises one brow, a trick I envy. "And for what do I deserve your gratitude?"

I grin and lift my shoulders. "For today. For taking the time to show me around even though I already stole three of your days. And for those three days. And everything that with went them." I take a step closer and take his hands. "For saving me."

He lifts our joined hands, then then brushes his lips over my knuckles. "Anytime," he says, and though I know the words are partly a tease, I'm also certain that he means them.

"Ash?"

"Mmm?"

"You know that recreational activity we talked about?"

His eyes skim over me in a way that's as intimate as a caress. "I do."

I move to him, slide one arm around his neck, then cup my other hand over his package. "I don't really want to play tennis."

I feel his cock go hard as he lowers his mouth to mine and murmurs, "Baby, I am very glad to hear that."

"Since the first moment I saw you. You took my breath away," Ash says as we snuggle together on top of the bedspread.

"The first moment? Are you talking about the day you crashed Nikki and Damien's ceremony? Or the day you first suggested your sex-for-services scheme with me?"

He chuckles. "The lady has a point. I definitely wasn't a Class A kinda dude."

"More like class Triple X," I tease. "But I wanted you, from the first moment, too." It's the truth, and I know he hears it in my voice.

"Interesting," he says with a sensual lilt as he traces his fingertip over my arm, bare in my short-sleeved tee. "I was an ass, and you wanted me anyway. Very, very interesting."

"I'm an enigma," I quip.

"I love a good enigma," he says, then rolls on top of me and closes his mouth over mine in a kiss that's wild and claiming.

I melt into his touch, my body responding. There's no hesitation, no worry. I'm his now, wholly and completely, my desire so potent I just might die if I can't have this man right here. Right now.

As if he can read my mind, he breaks the kiss, then eases back to meet my eyes. The corner of his mouth curves up in a wildly sexy half-smile, and he slides off the bed, then slowly strips. His shirt first, then his slacks. I watch, my breathing fast and my skin tingling as he reveals the lean, tight body I've come to know so well. He's completely exposed except for what's under his black briefs. And they aren't hiding much.

I swallow, then lift my face to his. He smirks, then urges me toward him. I crawl to the edge of the bed, and he slowly tugs my tee over my head. I let it fall to the floor, leaving my breasts bare.

"Ash," I whisper, but he presses a fingertip to my lips. Then he lifts me by the waist and tosses me back onto the mattress. I laugh, then reach out my hand for him. When he takes it, I tug and he topples onto me, his mouth immediately finding mine, his hands exploring my body over my remaining clothes until I'm so turned on I have to fight to keep from begging him to rip my skirt off.

Because I don't want to rush this. I want to savor it.

This joy I've found.

This man I love.

I don't want to push and get to the part where I'm afraid.

Where I remember just how much Rory broke me.

He rolls over, taking me with him so that I'm straddling his waist. He's hard, and I can feel his cock pressing against my ass through his briefs. I slide back just a little, wanting to tease both him and me.

"You're mine," he says, those chocolate brown eyes meeting mine. "You'll always be mine."

"Yes," I whisper as he pulls me to him. As his mouth finds mine. As his teeth nip at my lower lip and I taste blood.

I pull back, startled, and that's when I remember— eyes.

Ash's eyes are blue, not brown.

And when the man beneath me grins, all I see are his bared fangs on Rory's face.

Rory .

I sit bolt upright, yanked out of the nightmare. Gasping, I suck in air, as I look around, frantically trying to get my bearings.

Ash's condo. Ash's bedroom.

There's no Ash, though, and a stab of panic cuts through me until I remember that he's at a meeting. That's when relief flows through me. I don't want him here. Not now.

Not while my thoughts are so scrambled and confused that I'm not even sure what I'm thinking or what this hard knot of fear in my belly is all about.

Slowly, I scoot back until I'm leaning against the headboard, the pillow clutched in my lap. I thought they were gone, these nightmares. I thought that Ash had galloped into my life on a white steed and vanquished the demons that have haunted my dreams for years. And if not Ash, then surely the arrests three days ago would have vanquished those dreams. Everyone involved in the kidnapping is dead. Everyone involved in the blackmail has been caught. Ash's money was credited back to his account.

I draw in a shaky breath.

I was wrong. So damn wrong.

Because this isn't about Ash. It isn't even about Rory or Kari.

It's about me.

I'd slept with Rory. I'd trusted Kari.

Even Maggie. I'd never liked her, but I also never suspected the true depths of the bitch who hid underneath.

I can't trust my own judgment and now my subconscious is telling me to run. That Ash is wrong for me. Or we're moving too fast, or that he's going to hurt me somehow.

I don't know. And maybe that's the point.

Because until I can trust myself, how can I trust anyone else?

I realize that tears are streaming down my face and I brush them away with a violent sweep of my hand.

As much as I think I want to love Ash, I have to go.

Because first and foremost, I need to take care of me.