Chapter 8

Kenzie kept her eyes shut tight, but she couldn't keep out the violent flashes of memory of everything that had happened tonight. The gun barrel aimed at her head back at the office, which already felt like a lifetime ago. The escape through dark and wet streets to the Gilded Cuff, uncertain if anywhere would be safe. And then the shots, the shattering glass and wood of the pantry door exploding above her.

I could have died. The panic filled her with an unexpected rage, and she shook all the harder beneath the hot water.

"Kenzie, honey" Royce's rough voice drew her slowly out of the depths of her thoughts. She didn't look up, not at first. She was too ashamed, too mortified he was seeing her like this.

"Honey, please." The shower door opened, and Royce stepped in, still in his clothes, but without his boots. He knelt beside her, then eased onto the tile floor, his arm touching her bare shoulder. He reached his arm around her shoulders, holding her close to him.

Kenzie watched his other hand settle on one of her knees. Small cuts on his hand caused thin red rivulets of blood to trickle down from his skin to hers. She raised her head. Her nose brushed his cheek, feeling the slightly rough stubble along his jaw.

"You're hurt," she said, gazing at him. A pain hung there in his eyes, burning like a setting sun upon a distant horizon, but she didn't think it was because of the minor cuts.

"This is nothing," he said. She could almost hear the unspoken words flashing in his eyes. He'd hurt so much more than she'd ever know. She could feel the pieces splintering inside her chest.

She brought his hand to her lips, pressing a light kiss on the back of it, wishing she could take the pain from his eyes. From the moment she'd met him, she'd noticed this pain inside him, especially when he thought no one was watching. There had been a part of her that wanted to hold him close and promise she would not let him suffer any other hurts the world would bring. Yet here she was in a fetal position in the shower, unable to help herself, let alone him.

Royce's lips parted and he cupped her face, turning her toward him as he leaned down. Their mouths were inches apart, and Kenzie felt an overwhelming need to feel those lips upon hers.

Please kiss me.

"What you went through tonight was hell, I know. It's not easy to shake off the memories or the thoughts of 'What if?' But you can do this. You're safe now. You can get through this, you got me?" He stared at her lips, and she leaned into him, wanting to close the last inch between them.

He pulled away before they would have kissed. A half-hidden smile twisted his lips. "I always knew you'd be the death of me, Little Mac." The words cut but the tone was tender, which only confused her.

"You don't want?" She swallowed her humiliation. He doesn't want me. All this time he was just teasing me for fun, not because he was interested.

His dark eyes were full of honeyed fire. "I dowant. But you've been through a nightmare tonight. No good wolf touches his kitten when she's hurt and scared, except to comfort and protect her."

"Wolf? Kitten?" she asked, not understanding the comparison.

Royce traced her lips with a fingertip. "It's sort of BDSM lingo. A Dom is like a wolf, fierce and rough but loyal and protective. The sub is like a kitten, quick, smart, with sharp claws, but she needs to be handled with care. It's a common analogy for my lifestyle. Do you know about BDSM?" he asked, still stroking her lips.

She nodded. "A little." Her body was no longer shivering. A new heat spread through her at his close proximity and his touch.

"Never think I don't want you." He was frowning now. "But we both know that we can't. It's not wise." He growled the words as though he were as frustrated as she was with their situation.

"But you do want me?" If he did it would only make this harder, but she needed to know she wasn't alone in her desire. She was so tired of feeling alone and shut out from a world that was full of passion. Her friends were all in great, loving relationships. She was the only one left out in the cold because she yearned for something more, something darker.

He smiled again, a playful grin. "Yes, Little Mac. I do. Someday, when you're not so full of adrenaline and crashing from shock, I'll tell you all the things I've imagined doing to you."

She sighed, and her shoulders dropped. The hot water was burning her skin into his, almost melting them together.

"We need to get you to bed so you can rest. Hans has your list and will be back soon."

She didn't want to leave the shower or give up this rare, unusual intimacy they were sharing.

"Royce?" She watched him stand, his clothes dripping as he got out of the shower.

"Yeah?" He retrieved a large fluffy white towel and held it up for her, his face turned away. Ever the gentleman.

She paused, trying to figure out how to ask what she needed. "Can I stay with you tonight?"

"Stay with me?" He waited as she stood and took the towel, wrapping it around her body. He nudged gently for her to dry off.

"In your roomwith you? I don't know if I can sleep alone right now. I keep seeing those men." She shuddered.

He watched her, his keen eyes not missing her body's reactions to the memories. "Sure." He then smiled at her. "Guess that means no more sleeping naked. Damn."

And just like that, one little tease from him and she felt safe.

He left her alone in the bathroom, and she watched him through a crack in the door. He peeled off his soaking T-shirt, revealing a beautiful back with rippling muscles. A few cuts marred his tan skin, but he didn't seem to notice. When his hands went to the fly of his jeans, she turned away, her face flushing. She knew better than to torture herself with visions of a naked Royce. She was already going to have trouble sleeping.

Once she was dressed and her hair dried, she entered the bedroom. Royce had fresh jeans and a shirt on, and though his hair was damp he looked a little drier, as if he'd bent over and tousled it dry with his hands. He nodded at the bed.

"Get some sleep. I'll stay with you." It was a promise, but she sensed his thoughts had gone somewhere far away.

"Are you not sleeping?" she asked.

"I will, once Hans gets back. We'll take turns watching the house."

Kenzie's muscles went rigid. "You think the other man will come back?"

"I don't." His reply was confident, no sense he was hiding any worries from her. "We're just taking precautions, that's all."

Kenzie walked over to the large king-size bed. She almost had to get a running jump just to get on top of it. She pulled the covers back and climbed inside. The pillow smelled of Royce, like a rich aftershave. It was an addictive scent and so very male. She nuzzled the pillow and closed her eyes. She heard him chuckle in the darkness.

"You're deliberately rubbing in how comfy you are, aren't you?"

"Hmm," she purred softly, biting her lip to hide a smile. It was fun to tease him back for once. She'd never had the chance to before.

"Rest," he said, firmly but gently.

It was so easy to obey that voice and just drift away.