Page 31 of The Female Warrior & The Charming Gentleman

“Jarom,” she whispered.

“Forgive me for invading your privacy. You were screaming out in your sleep and I couldn’t restrain myself any longer.”

She stared up at him. A flash of defensive anger filled her. He’d entered her bedroom, was sitting on the side of her bed, and his large warm palms were on her arms. She swallowed down a defensive retort and stilled her hands from lashing out.

As their gazes locked, she realized that as any anger or self-preservation fled, she was filled with gratitude. He was here. For her.

She broke his hold, sat up, and wrapped her arms around his neck.

Jarom cuddled her against his strong chest and his soft T-shirt. He smelled … like himself, sweet, manly, spicy. That scent and the comfort of not being in the nightmare but in his arms made her sigh and lean into him.

He eased back against the headboard and cradled her close. She never wanted to leave this spot—safety, comfort, exhilaration. It made no sense that a man she’d previously thought couldn’t fight his way out of a beauty parlor full of his adoring females would be the one who made her feel safe, but he did. Jarom would protect her emotionally and she would protect him physically.

She inhaled slowly in and out, in and out. How did he smell like himself again? Every smell, touch, and feel was her Jarom.

He tenderly stroked her back with onehand and his other hand trailed through her hair. She had no idea how long he held her, but it felt like heaven.

“Thank you,” she whispered against his neck.

“Of course.” He spoke into her hair. She wanted to arch up and kiss him. “Do you have nightmares often?”

“Almost every night,” she admitted.

“Oh, Autumn. That’s horrible. I’m sorry.”

It wasn’t his fault, and this was the first time anybody had comforted her after a nightmare. It felt like a ray from heaven.

But she didn’t believe heaven cared about her. Right?

“Something from childhood or from security details?”

“Childhood,” she admitted, surprised she got that out. Not even Paul knew about her nightmares, the abuse from her mom, and the men who’d tried to find her. Luckily, she’d been small and had her secure hiding spot. The panel at the back of her closet had protected her more times than she could count. Unlike in her dream, nobody had found her there. She never hid there to avoid a beating from her mom because she didn’t want her to know about the space. If the men didn’t leave at night, she slept in there with the mice and spiders. She’d stayed safe, in a manner of speaking, but the fear never left.

“Your mom hurt you,” he guessed.

Usually when someone pushed her, she wanted to throat punch them. With Jarom, there was a level of trust she’d never had. She swallowed down her initial reaction and chose to open up instead of closing down.

“She did, and her boyfriends would try to find me after she passed out. They never did find me, but … it was a horrifying way to grow up, constantly on the defensive and knowing one mistake and I’d be in their power.” She bit at her lip. Even though she’d decided to share, she was stunned and embarrassed at what had just slid out of her mouth. What would Jarom think of her?

“Oh, Autumn,” Jarom groaned out. He held her and didn’t say any more. Tears pricked at her eyes and trailed down her cheeks.

She didn’t even brush them away.

“How did you survive?”

“I was always scared,” she admitted.

“Of course you were, and I hate that for you.” He swallowed; she felt it against her forehead. “It isn’t your fault, Autumn. Your mother physically and emotionally hurting you, those men who terrified you, they’re the ones to blame, the ones who will have to pay for injuring an innocent child.”

She pulled back just enough to stare up at him. “You had a perfect childhood, right?”

“I did,” he admitted. “I was loved and safe and given every advantage.” He swallowed. “That’s why I try to do so much for children. I can’t stand the thought of one child suffering or going without.”

She licked her lips. He was serious. She could feel it in his words. Jarom was not what the media or anyone else made him out to be, and she found she wasn’t upset that he had an ideal childhood. She was glad he had and grateful he helped others.

“Is this why you stay away from relationships?” he asked.

“Yes.” There was more. So much darkness inside of her. She was a warrior, not a lover.

---