Her hair hangs wet around her face. Her makeup is smudged and she’s dressed in loose jogging pants, an oversized sweatshirt, and sneakers. I’d been informed that her car gave out half way up the driveway so it’s no surprise that she’s drenched. Brooke’s eyes are locked on the child in her arms as she rocks herback and forth, clearly trying to soothe the scared and distressed cries that flow from her.
I don’t recognize the man, and an odd pulse of jealousy stabs through me at the sight of him. Reaching the hall, I wave my men away with a simple glance. He will be taken care of and visited by the in-house physician to determine why he’s unconscious. I ache to know his relation to Brooke but that fades when she finally lifts her head and our eyes meet.
In a flash, it’s four years ago, and she’s looking up at me from the bar with a playful smile on her lips.
I blink and we’re back in my hallway, a storm raging outside and several of my guards side-eyeing Brooke. They see her as a threat, a risk to me, but all I see is the woman I fell in love with the moment I kissed her, and for the first time in four years, my heart beats again.
“Brooke,” I say softly, and her brow lifts as if she’s surprised I remember her name. “What are you doing here?”
It’s obvious she’s been crying, and her voice is thick with emotion when she finally speaks. “I didn’t know where else to go.”
Her sadness and desperation scrapes against me like a thousand razor blades and I wince internally. I vow silently to myself that whatever has caused her such pain will be dealt with swiftly. I tentatively step forward. “What do you need?”
She blinks slowly and her exhaustion becomes evident. “Help,” she whispers. “Please.”
I don’t need to hear another word. With a snap of my fingers, the guards melt away and are replaced by Rik, my personal bodyguard. He moves like a shadow and follows me as I place an arm in the air around Brooke’s shoulders, guiding her upstairs to my room. The child,herchild she tells me when we enter my bedroom, is beyond distraught. Brooke asks for dry clothes and a place where she can give Tiffany a warm bath. I show her the ensuite and tell her to take all the time she needs. She nods before vanishing inside and closing the door.
“Boss?” Rik begins as he approaches. “Who is she?”
I stare at the bathroom door. My chest aches knowing that I’ve seen her for five minutes and already there’s a door between us. Turning away, I cross the bedroom and step down into the seating area. “Do you remember that night in the club?”
“Which night?”
“Four years ago, give or take. After I secured the Middle Eastern contracts.”
Rik nods.
“That’s the woman from the bar, the one for whom I bought a glass of wine or two. Brooke is her name.” My tongue seems to curl as I say her name aloud. I then turn and stare at the bathroom door before whispering, “Why is she here?”
“Are you thinking it’s something sinister?” Rik asks.
“I don’t know what to think.” Turning back to him, I sigh deeply. “Am I dreaming?”
“Want me to slap you?”
“No need.” I chuckle dryly. “See what you can dig up on her. And check the car outside. I want to know everywhere it was before it ended up here. But before you do that, please bring up some clothes for her and the child.”
“Sir.” Rik bows his head and hurries from the room, leaving me alone with my swirling thoughts.
My desire to see through to the other side of the door is met with silence. My rooms are the only ones without cameras, so I’m forced to wait and decipher sounds. Running water, splashing sounds, and quiet murmurs. By the time the door finally opens, Tiffany has calmed down and appears to be asleep in Brooke’s arms, the color returned to her cheeks. Wrapped in a thick, fluffy robe, Brooke moves toward my bed and tucks her daughter in without a word. I don’t complain. I’m tooenraptured by her presence to question anything until she leans over the bed to kiss Tiffany’s head.
One of her legs stretches out for balance and her robe slips up a bit, revealing raw and bloodied skin on her feet.
Ice forms in my veins. What the hell happened to her?
“Thank you,” Brooke mumbles as she approaches me. “For accepting me and taking us in.” Her eyes dart around the room from the silken drapes to the extravagant paintings to the plush couches. She looks like she’s never seen anything so fancy before, and there’s awe twinkling in her tired eyes.
“I couldn’t turn you away at this time of night.”
“You sure?” She chuckles dryly and hugs herself. “Your security seemed determined to do just that.”
“They’re well trained and their main goal is to protect me.”
“Mmm-hmm.” She nods but she doesn’t offer anything in the way of explanation. I recognize the tightness across her shoulders and the jerky way she moves. She’s on edge, defensive and protective of her child. I could press the issue but something tells me I won’t be getting answers tonight. So instead, I change tactics.
“Sit.” I point at the couch and Brooke hesitates, glancing back at her daughter.
“I…”