Page 228 of Tell Me Lies

“I wasn’t.”

His eyes raked over her body, still luscious beneath the sheet. “Go get dressed. Put that sheet in the basket for the laundry.”

Cecily bent and lifted the remains of her dress from the floor. She held it up.

“I don’t have anything to wear. It’s ruined.”

He saw how he’d torn it. Even with a needle and thread, he doubted it could be repaired. Cecily tossed him the thong she’d worn but it was in tatters too. If he cussed, it wouldn’t help matters, and he couldn’t take her out of the apartment or anywhere without clothing.

“I’ll get something sent you can wear.”

“Then I can go home.”

Although her lips remained puffy, he ached to kiss them. Javier wanted to strip away the sheet and take her again. To resist any attraction, he steeled himself against it. He didn’t want to desire her, and he would not care about this silly woman. “No.”

Her expression didn’t change but a single tear rolled down her cheek. Javier stepped closer and wiped it away with one finger. He wondered if it was genuine or just fucking fine acting. After all, his nosy research indicated she came from a theater family, so she probably had a few skills.

“Don’t fucking cry. I said I’ll get you some clothes. Are you hungry? I’m about to make an omelet.”

He barked the question in a brusque tone.

Cecily covered her face with both hands and the sheet dropped to the floor as she sobbed.

Javier resisted for a few moments, tried to ignore her anguish, but against his better judgement, he put his arms around her. Cecily didn’t resist but leaned against him, weeping. She laid her head on his chest and her hands rested on his shoulders. He almost shoved her away, unhappy with the way his heart reacted. Javier stopped before he did and tried to conjure up comforting words. “Sh,” he whispered. “Don’t, Azúcar. Please stop crying.”

So, she wasn’t faking but that was worse than if she had been. He had never been able to handle female tears, not his sisters, not Mam, not any girlfriend he’d ever had. Women often wept when he walked away after a night of pounding sex, but it had never moved him before. Javier didn’t know why he cared now, even a small bit, but he didn’t want to feel anything. When she cried harder, he sighed, then picked her up in his arms and carried her to the couch. He cradled her on his lap, his cock rising with a nude woman in his arms. Javier kissed her but with soft, gentle lips. Ravishing her now might ease the ache in his cock but he doubted it would help Cecily. He wondered what had happened to the bold-talking, sassy woman. Right now, she seemed vulnerable.

Still, he might have taken her if she hadn’t drawn up her knees and moaned.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, wary. It might be a ruse to distract him. Or it might explain why she acted with less fire and sharp words.

“My stomach.”

Javier put his hand over her abdomen and felt the muscles tighten, then release, then tighten again. “It’s cramping.”

“Yes,” she muttered. “Hurts.”

“What will help?”

“I don’t know. Sometimes Imodium. It’s from stress, it happens all the time.”

“Then calm down.”

Cecily scowled at him. “Like I can. I’m naked, in some killer guy’s apartment, and he won’t let me go home.”

“You couldn’t leave anyway, not without something to wear.” He stated the obvious and she balled her fist, then hit his chest. It didn’t hurt. She lacked the strength to make a punch count.

“Let me go!”

If he released her, she’d fall to the floor, so he didn’t. One minute, she cuddled against him, the next she demanded to be freed. “How about you go take a shower and I find something you can wear till I can get some clothes delivered?”

Her eyes widened. “You would do that?”

“Si, Chica. I can’t let you be naked, or I’ll fuck you until you scream.”

Despite her tummy issues, she almost smiled. “That might not be so bad, but I’d like a shower. And I want my purse if you haven’t ransacked it. I need the Imodium in it for my stomach.”

Javier led her to the bathroom, showed her how to work his complicated walk-in shower, and left her. He dug through his clothing and found an oversized t-shirt she could wear, although it would be much too large. He found some old sweatpants too but cinched the drawstring tighter. They would swim on Cecily but at least she’d be dressed. He left the garments on the bed where she would find them. After considering, he also put her purse there, but he kept the cell phone.

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