Page 64 of The Trouble With Bad Boys

Tears suddenly burned across the bridge of my nose. I turned my face away, closing my eyes and refusing to look at him. My pulse thudded painfully in my ears, the rushing of blood drowning out everything else as adrenaline coursed through me. Several moments passed before Smith’s grip loosened. But he didn’t let go. Instead, his hands coasted up my forearms, leaving goosebumps in their wake.

I tensed as his fingers trailed higher, over my biceps and shoulders, along my collarbone. My breathing turned shallow and my heart fluttered wildly behind my ribs. What was he doing?

Higher and higher his hands slid along my skin. I felt his thumbs brush my throat as I swallowed hard. They continued their ascent until he cupped my face in his huge hands.

Slowly, he turned my face forward once more. Unable to resist any longer, I opened my eyes and peered up at him. His face was set in an intense expression as he studied me, dark eyes boring into mine. His thumbs swept lightly over my cheeks, stroking me gently and wiping away the remnants of tears. The tenderness of his touch made me want to cry all over again.

My legs shook and I leaned into him. His gaze flitted over my face before returning to my eyes. His thumbs moved over my face in steady arcs, soothing me. I leaned into him, wrapping my arms around his waist as he tucked my face against his chest. He was so solid, so warm and comforting... I didn’t want to let him go.

I dug my fingers into his back, melding my body to his, absorbing every ounce of his strength. He held me tight, one arm banded around my waist as his free hand smoothed up and down my spine. It seemed almost surreal; Smith was always so cold, so domineering. Yet he held me like he... cared.

It hit me then. All those days in the shop, always keeping an eye on me even when I slept... He wasn’t suspicious. He didn’t hate me.

He was protecting me.

Twelve

RODRIGO

Now was the time to speak up. But I didn’t. For the first time in my life, I was rendered speechless.

Lily felt so small in my arms, so vulnerable and frail, but her spine was forged of steel. There wasn’t another woman who would ever dare stand toe to toe with me. But this petite woman with her fiery hair and temper to match had managed the impossible. She was smart and outspoken, and I respected the hell out of her for not letting a man—myself included—push her around.

I couldn’t believe I’d allowed this to happen. I wasn’t a monk. I’d been with my share of women, but not like this. Never like this. I didn’t do intimacy on any level. Sexual relations were best relegated to the bedroom, and for a very limited time. I didn’t need the complication of a woman in my life. And I most definitely did not hug them. So why I’d pulled Lily against me was a mystery.

I waited for that itchy feeling to start between my shoulder blades, that age-old instinct of self preservation that screamed at me to distance myself. But it never came. Instead, I was enveloped by the comfort of her soft curves as she practically melted against me.

Her soft scent wafted upward, teasing my nostrils, and I closed my eyes. She smelled of flowers, underscored by the heady scent of woman. I could feel her firm, round breasts pressed against my chest, her nipples pushing against the fabric of the thin robe she wore. My brain short-circuited at the thought of seeing those enticing little buds, taking one in my mouth and tasting her, then moving lower.

My fingers twitched against her lower back. I was tempted to coast them downward, cup her ass and pull her even closer. But I’d already pushed her far enough today. Any more and I’d likely find her palm print embedded in my face.

I loosened my hold as Lily leaned away from me, tipping her face up to mine. Her bright blue eyes stared into my own, seemingly searching for something. Finally, she gave a small, concise nod. “I understand now.”

I blinked, caught off guard. She understood what?

A soft smile curling her lips, she pulled away. I stopped her progress with my hands on her hips, but she just patted my chest. “Thank you.”

This time when she pulled away, I let her go. What the hell was she talking about? I was deeply unsettled by the whole thing. In this instance, the best thing to do was retreat. I needed to figure out what the hell had just happened. And why. The way she looked at me, like I was her savior...

A shudder rippled down my spine. Had she figured out why I continued to follow her? No. There was no way she could know. But that look...

The woman was slowly burrowing under my skin. I spent an inordinate amount of time watching her, observing every move she made. I found her fascinating. And brilliant. And beautiful.

A buzzing sensation skittered along my nerve endings. This was a terrible idea. Staying here would only prolong the inevitable, but I had to know she would be safe.

I turned to look at Lily, now seated at the table and devouring the frittatas I’d made. She met my gaze, then gestured with her fork. “I think these are my favorite yet. Feel free to stay as long as you like.”

Cold rushed over me, rendering me numb. I knew she was joking, but her words aligned so perfectly with my thoughts from just a few moments prior that they hit me with the force of a sledgehammer. The longer I stayed, the more likely I would bring trouble to her door. For the past five days, everything had been quiet. There was no indication of Araña’s men having followed me here. I needed to leave.

Turning on a heel, I strode into the living room and gathered clean clothes, then closed myself in the bathroom to change. Stripping off my shirt, I dropped it to the floor, then turned to examine my back in the mirror.

The lacerations had begun to scab over, and most of the smaller cuts were almost completely healed. A few bruises remained, now a yellowish color, but even those would be gone soon. Everything was healing well, and I no longer needed someone to apply ointment or bandages. Good thing, since I’d be in a new city soon, with no one familiar to help me.

I snatched up the clean clothes, pushing the depressing thought from my head. As I unfolded the shirt, a delicate scent wafted in the air. Lily had washed everything again yesterday evening, and I tried to stem the strange sensation that billowed up in my chest. I enjoyed spending time with her, enjoyed the way she cared for me, tending to my wounds and making sure I had clean clothes to wear.

My only way to repay her was to cook and clean. And make sure she stayed safe. I knew I owed her an explanation, but at this point it would only do more harm than good. I’d already made the decision to leave. It was better just to keep my mouth shut.

By the time I was washed and dressed, Lily had finished her breakfast. I intercepted her in the kitchen, where I collected her plate and carried it to the sink.

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