Page 47 of The Hermit

Letting out a hopeless sigh, I follow after him.

When he opens the passenger door, I reluctantly climb into the cab.

I watch my husband walk around the front, and my heartbeat begins to speed up when I remember the night he rescued me from the Russians.

Over the past few days that I’ve gotten to know him a little, he’s only become more daunting. I know, from first-hand experience, what he’s capable of.

When he restrained me in my bedroom, there was nothing I could do to stop him. I was lucky when I woke up in bed with the covers over me and not stripped naked, beaten, and raped.

But my luck has run out.

As Dominik climbs behind the steering wheel, I take in his handsome face and the ink on his skin.

For a split second, I try to picture myself being intimate with him, but it backfires badly on me.

My heart sets off at a wild pace, and breaths burst over my lips.

Dominik starts the engine, then glances at me.

“Jebat,” he snaps and the next moment, his palms frame my cheeks, and his face is mere inches from mine.

“You’re safe, Grace,” he says in a calm tone. I can feel his breath on my lips. “I swear to all that’s holy I’ll never hit you or force you to be intimate with me.”

Stuck in a panic attack, his words register somewhere in my mind, and I begin to calm down. When the haze of panic lifts, I notice my breathing is in sync with Dominik’s.

He tilts his head, his expression actually gentle. “Better?”

It’s only then I realize it’s the second time he’s noticed when I’m having a panic attack. Not even Ciara was aware of them because they’re always silent.

Not pulling away from him, I ask, “How did you know?”

“Someone close to me used to have silent panic attacks.”

His thumb brushes over my cheekbone, and before I can stop him, he presses a kiss to my forehead.

He pulls back and locks eyes with me. “The first person I killed was a rapist. It’s a trigger for me as well, so if you believe only one thing, let it be that I’ll never do that to you.”

I keep staring at Dominik, not sure whether I can believe what he’s telling me. “So you’re really fine with a sexlessmarriage?” When he nods, I shake my head. “I find that hard to believe.”

He focuses on steering the Hummer away from the airfield, then says, “I’ve never been in a romantic relationship with a woman.”

My eyes widen. “There’s no way on God’s green earth you’re a virgin.”

Laughter bursts from him, the sound deep and warm.

“Of course not.” He glances in my direction before paying attention to the quiet road. “But I’ve been celibate for over ten years.”

My jaw goes slack, and then a thought crosses my mind that has my body chilling. “Were you…” I can’t bring myself to finish the sentence.

Dominik’s eyebrows draw together, and it takes a moment before he realizes what I’m trying to ask. “No, I wasn’t. I’m celibate because people annoy the fuck out of me, and in order to have sex, I have to let someone into my personal space.”

“You’re letting me into your personal space,” I mutter.

He lets out a sigh before replying, “Because you don’t annoy me.”

“That doesn’t put me at ease at all. I’d much rather annoy you.”

Seriously, who marries someone because of a crappy reason like that?

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