Page 11 of Rescuing Sophia

I hold her close, murmuring reassurances as I gently stroke her hair. As her tears begin to subside, the reality of our position becomes impossible to ignore—Sophia in my lap, her curves pressing against me, my hands resting on her back.

Things are stirring that shouldn’t.

I should put her back to bed and return to the couch, but I can’t bring myself to let her go.

“Stay,” Sophia whispers, her lips brushing my neck. “Please. I don’t want to be alone.”

God help me. Will the torment never end?

I gently shift us back onto the bed, keeping her close. As we settle in, Sophia curls against me like she belongs there, her warmth and trust igniting something deep inside me.

I’m playing with fire, but for tonight—for her—I’ll risk getting burned.

FOUR

Sophia

The sizzleof bacon in the hot pan fills the small kitchen as I crack eggs into a bowl. My movements are precise, almost ritualistic—designed to be flawless.

The rich scent of coffee brewing mingles with the savory aroma of the bacon, wrapping me in a warm, comforting cocoon that almost makes me forget where I am.

Almost.

I steal a glance at the closed bedroom door, my heart quickening. Blake is still asleep, and I’m determined to make everything perfect for when he wakes up. It’s the least I can do to show my gratitude for everything he’s done. But deep down, this gesture means more. I need to make him see me as more thanjustan assignment.

Because he’s been assigned to me.

No big mystery there.

Guardian HRS wants something out of me.

Everyone wants something out of me.

There’s no such thing as true freedom when everyone wants something.

Whatever.I roll my eyes, the thought almost reflexive.

I’m used to being used. I turn back to the skillet with a frown. The only good thing about any of this is that I get to play pretend.

Pretend I’m free.

Pretend I can be loved.

Pretend I have a future worth fighting for.

And, if I’m going to pretend, I might as well have a little fun.

Blake is super-hot, and guys like him know their way around a woman’s body. For once, I could enjoy intimacy without fear or force. Maybe, just maybe, I could find out what it’s like to be with someone because I want to, not because I have to. I’ve never felt the thrill of mutual desire before, but just thinking about it sends a shiver of excitement down my spine.

The omelet slides easily onto a plate, steam rising in delicate wisps. I’ve added extra cheese, hoping it’ll mask any imperfections in my cooking.

It’s been years since I’ve cooked anything. Slaves aren’t allowed near kitchens where weapons might be within reach. My hands tremble slightly as I arrange the plate on the small dining table, the memories of captivity and powerlessness flooding back, a reminder of the years I spent stripped of even the smallest freedoms.

A soft groan from the bedroom makes me freeze.

Is he awake?

I quickly pour a cup of coffee, adding a generous amount of cream and sugar. Men like their coffee sweet. At least my master does.

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