Page 21 of Protection for Nichole

“I don’t, but you have…gosh, this is awkward.”

“What?”

“You’ve had sex before me, right? Like I wasn’t your first?”

She shook her head. “I haven’t slept with many guys. I’ve been busy. Shit—” A gasp escaped her lips as her stomach sank. Memory of the missing hours hit, taking her breath.

Worry filled Jesse’s face. “What is wrong?”

She shook her head. Shame, maybe some fear, filled her. “There were a few hours when we were held captive that I can’t account for. When I got the bruises and scrapes is blank. I don’t know what happened. I don’t think they…you know. But?—”

He placed his fingers on her mouth. “I’ve done a lot of these rescues. I know what those bastards do. That’s why I don’t feel guilty for killing them. They don’t deserve to be spared. And you did nothing wrong.”

Her gaze met his, and she studied his expression, searching for any revulsion at what she’d said or what had happened to her. “They took blood and ran tests, but they said I need to wait a few months and check again.”

He leaned in and brushed his lips gently against hers, pouring in so much caring that she couldn’t hold back the tears. He held her tighter, his lips on her hair, his hand giving thewarmth she so desperately needed. Being with him, feeling his arms around her, made her feel like she could survive.

“I care very much about you. I know you’ll never know what happened, but you can rest assured that it’s over. You don’t have to ever experience that again.”

His words felt nice, but she knew if she wanted to keep working as a journalist, she would be put in situations that might be dangerous. She wasn’t willing to give up her job, but the idea of going back into a dangerous situation had her shaking.

“How about I start fixing something for dinner?”

She glanced up, surprise filling her. “You can cook?”

Laughter spilled out. “Of course. Who do you think has been feeding me?”

She shrugged. “I’m not a great cook, maybe not even good. I mean, I can do a mean macaroni and cheese, and I can heat up water for spaghetti, but there’s not much else that I can really make other than salads.”

His smile warmed her, and then he leaned in and brushed his lips over hers. This man was better than she’d remembered. He was kind, and sexy, and so attentive.

“Well, I happen to be an excellent cook.”

Butterflies tickled her stomach. “You just keep on surprising me,” she admitted.

“What do you mean?”

“After I was rescued, you came into that room on the ship. That shocked the hell out of me. Then you told me you were in the group that rescued me. That blew my mind.”

His chuckle slid through her. “How does…just a second.” Jesse opened the pantry and then the refrigerator. “I have the ingredients to make creamy chicken piccata.”

“Oh.” She blinked at him as he raised his eyebrows. “I hate to say it, but I’m not really sure I know what that is.”

His smile set her heart aflame. “If you don’t like it, I have some leftover pizza we can heat up.”

“I’m sure I’ll love it. How can I help?” The man was so beautiful that she was having a hard time concentrating on anything other than his facial expressions. She hoped he didn’t want her to do anything super complex.

“How is your chopping game?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. Okay, I guess. I’m more a tear lettuce and spinach leaves kind of girl.”

His chuckle vibrated through her. “It’s just parsley. I’ll chop some broccoli and asparagus.”

“Sure. That sounds good.”

“Okay. Let’s get started.”

Watching Jesse in the kitchen was bliss. He was confident, sure of himself, and only had to check the recipe twice to get everything the way he wanted. After adding the final ingredient, he turned the temperature down and lazily stirred the sauce.

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