Tempted by the Wrong Twin (Texas Cattleman's Club: Blackmail 8) - Page 47

“You’re right,” he said. “We do have each other.”

“The thing is, we never had a bond of love to hold us together. This was always a partnership between two people who have mutual goals, and any feelings and intimacy that developed were a bonus.”

He cocked his head to the side. “We’re in agreement about all of this.”

“All right, then. Here’s my point. What we have is a shared situation, as well as respect and trust. And if you take out the trust, you undermine the agreement that everything else was built on.”

It suddenly all clicked into place. “Okay, I get it.” Being completely open with the mess that was in his head wasn’t second nature to him, and it wasn’t an appealing thought, either. But he’d committed to this marriage, and he had a lot to lose, starting with relationships with his three children. He needed to step up his game. “I’ll keep you in the loop with what’s going on for me. And if I slip up, just ask. I promise I’ll do my best to explain.”

“Thank you.” The word was whispered so softly, he barely heard it. “And I promise not to pressure you to give more than you feel you can. If you want to go back to sleeping in your own room, that’s okay with me. And the alternative is okay, too—staying the night with me, risking that you’ll have a nightmare and trusting that I’ll be able to handle it.”

The fear rose up and threatened to overwhelm him, but he wanted to do this. Wanted to try. Could he? Dare he?

He moved over to her sofa and sat beside her. Then he stepped over the edge of the cliff. “If you really mean it, I’m willing to try actually sleeping with you.”

She wrapped her arms around his waist and leaned her head on his shoulder. “I really mean it.”

He pulled her tighter and hoped like hell that he hadn’t just made the biggest mistake of his life.

* * *

It was a few hours later, when they’d had dinner and were ready for bed, that Nick found himself in Harper’s room, wanting desperately to climb under the covers with her but still not sure if he could risk it.

Causing Harper pain or distress went against everything he believed in, and yet, he’d already agreed to stay the night with her. And actually sleep. Breaking his word also went against everything he believed in...

She stroked a hand over the sheet and smiled at him. “Come on in, the water’s fine.”

At war with itself, he took a step, then another until he reached her. “Are you sure?”

“Nick,” she said, her gaze steady, “you need to trust me. And trust in my capacity to cope.”

Still torn, he sat on the edge of the bed. “It’s not that I don’t trust you.”

Her expression changed, and he saw glimmers of the courtroom lawyer. “When you were in the military, you were part of a team. Everyone had a job to do, and you had to trust one another to do your jobs, right?”

“Right,” he said, warily.

“This is the same. You need to let me play my part.” She pulled his shoulder until he lay down beside her. “Promise you’ll trust me and you’ll go to sleep?”

He knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that this was a turning point in their relationship—tonight could bring them closer or push them apart.

He let out a long, controlled breath. Whatever the outcome, he’d made the decision earlier when he’d agreed to sleep with her, so it was time to step up to the plate and put his words into action.

He wrapped an arm around her waist. “I promise.”

“Thank you,” she whispered and snuggled her back into his chest.

He pulled her closer, adjusted the pillow under his head and let his eyes drift shut. After a few minutes of listening to Harper breathe and trying to relax himself to sleep, the world began to fade.

* * *

A flash of light amid the dirty dark of night... Ground shaking, walls shaking... Diving for cover... Screaming from all directions... Another flash... Noise filling the air leaving no room for anything else, not even oxygen... Screams of the dying... Trying to shout orders but smoke stealing his voice... His men. Where were his men? Searching... The stench of vomit and blood...a pile of clothes—no, a man. Gregson. Lifeless... No! Oh, God, no... So sorry... Flames... Shouting... An arm. Moving rubble. Adams. Alive... Dragging to safety, going back in... Flashes and noise... More dead... Screaming... Sorry, so sorry...

A soft voice floated through the darkness, soothing, telling him he was safe. It was a beautiful voice, one that stirred his soul and drew him away from the horrors still clinging to him. But the darkness wouldn’t release its grip that easily, and the place between sleep and wakefulness was the worst...

In dreams, there was still a small hope that he’d find more of his unit alive this time. That he’d save them. He would have thrown himself between his team and danger to protect them, no question. But each time present-day reality intruded, he’d remember all over again that he hadn’t saved them. And there was nothing he could do to fix it now. Adrenaline pumped through his system, urging him to act. To do something.

The voice was still there, anchoring him. Harper’s voice. And another sound. Soft whining from his other side.

Tags: Rachel Bailey Billionaire Romance
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