Page 21 of Provoking Bryan

Sara followed his lead, her breaths shaky at first but gradually evening out as his words guided her.

“Feel your feet on the ground,” he continued, his hands steadying her. “Feel the weight of your body against the couch. You’re here. You’re safe.”

His voice wrapped around her like a cocoon, each word pulling her further from the chaos in her mind.

“Good,” he murmured. “Now, open your eyes.”

When she did, his gaze was waiting for her, steady and grounding. “You’re not alone, Sara,” he said softly. “I’m here. Whatever happens, we face it as a team.”

“You’re not trained…”

“I was a medic in some of the worst forward operating bases in the world. They made the camp here in Africa look like the Ritz. I can handle myself and a gun. And I can guard your six.”

She grinned. Her pulse thrummed, but it was something deeper—more significant—than anything she’d ever felt before… something that terrified and comforted her in equal measure.

“Thank you,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion.

Bryan stood, pulling her to her feet. “Come on,” he said, his tone lightening slightly. “We’ve got work to do.”

They moved to secure the safe house and prepare for whatever was coming, but in the back of her mind, the question lingered:Could they survive the storm they both knew was coming?

The late afternoon shone brightly on the porch of the safe house. Even though the sun was sinking down to the horizon, at this time of day, it looked as though it was at the same level as the porch itself. Sara paced its length, her movements sharp and restless. The steady crash of the waves below did little to calm the storm brewing inside her. Every instinct screamed that time was running out, that the safety they’d carved out here was hanging by a thread.

Her fingers brushed the holster at her hip, a reflexive check she’d repeated a dozen times already. The unease had taken root deep in her chest, gnawing at her with each passing hour.

Inside the house, Bryan sat at the small dining table, a map of the region spread out before him. His brow furrowed as he studied the terrain, his pen tapping rhythmically against the wood. He looked calm—too calm—and it only irritated Sara more.

“You’re awfully relaxed for someone with a target on his back,” she said, stopping just inside the doorway.

Bryan glanced up, his expression unreadable. “And you’re burning enough energy for both of us.”

“Someone has to,” Sara shot back, crossing her arms. “The cartel’s not just going to give up because we’ve gone off-grid. If anything, they’re getting closer.”

He set the pen down, leaning back in his chair. “You don’t know that.”

“I feel it,” Sara said, her voice sharp. “This is what I do, Bryan. I know when something’s off, and I’m telling you, they’re closing in.”

Bryan stood, his height forcing her to tilt her head slightly to meet his gaze. “And you think you’re not enough to keep me safe?”

The question struck a nerve, and Sara’s jaw tightened. “I worry that I can’t do it alone. My fear is that what I’m starting to feel for you may compromise my ability to keep you safe.”

“You’re not the only one, but I’m not as helpless as you may think,” Bryan said firmly, stepping closer. “You have to let me help.”

“This isn’t your world. You’re a doctor, Bryan, not a soldier.”

His expression didn’t waver, his dark eyes steady on hers. “I was a soldier before I was a doctor. Don’t forget that.”

Sara hesitated, her mind flashing back to the way he’d handled himself during the ambush. The precision of his movements, the calm in his demeanor—it was impossible to ignore. But this wasn’t just about skill; it was about the burden of responsibility, a burden she wasn’t sure he understood.

“I can’t let anything happen to you,” she said quietly, the admission slipping out before she could stop it.

Bryan’s features softened, but his tone remained steady. “And I can’t let you carry all of this on your own. We’re in this together, Sara. Whether you like it or not. As I understand it, no Dom worthy of a woman’s submission would let her bear the burden by herself.”

The conviction in his voice sent a shiver down her spine, but she fought to keep her composure. “You don’t understand how dangerous they are.”

“Then explain it to me,” he said, his voice low. “Help me understand so I can be part of the solution instead of just the problem.”

The sincerity in his words threw her off balance. She wasn’t used to this—not the vulnerability he offered, not the partnership he demanded. For a moment, she considered pushing him away again, shutting him out to protect him. But the look in his eyes stopped her.

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