Page 54 of Dark Rover's Gift

"You can talk to Vanessa."

"She's busy."

"I know she is, but I'm sure she would find the time for you. Maybe she can give you some tools, so you can work on this on your own."

Fenella lifted her head and looked into his eyes. "That's a great idea. I hadn't thought of it like that. To me, a shrink is an officewith a couch and a spectacled lady asking me how I feel about this or that."

He chuckled. "Real life is not like movies."

She pouted. "How would you know? Have you ever visited a psychologist's office?"

"Can't say that I have, but I know that Vanessa doesn't have a couch in hers."

"Oh." She laid her cheek back on his chest, her fingers tracing patterns on his belly. "What if I'm unfixable? What if this urge to flee never goes away? What if I'm too broken even for the mighty Vanessa?"

"You're not broken." He hooked a finger under her chin and lifted her head. "Wounded, cautious, skittish, but not broken. You just need more time to heal."

"How can you say that with such confidence, Professor?"

"Broken things can't connect, can't take risks. And you're doing all of those things. You have a new job you enjoy, you're making friends, and you're letting me love you." He smiled. "You're even worried about disappointing Atzil. Those aren't the actions of someone who's broken."

The truth was that he was talking out of his ass because he knew next to nothing about psychology, but he knew that Fenella was strong. She was a survivor. Besides, all she needed was to believe in her ability to heal, and she would.

"Well, when you put it like that, Professor, who am I to argue?"

"I'm right and you know it." He shifted them so they were face to face on the pillow. "You're one of the strongest people I've evermet, Fenella. You survived things that would have destroyed others. And you're still here, still fighting, still capable of joy and connection and terrible jokes at inappropriate times."

"My jokes are excellent," she protested, but she was smiling.

"They're terrible and you know it." He kissed her nose. "I love them anyway."

"You love everything about me." There was wonder in her voice, as if she still couldn't quite believe it.

"Guilty as charged." He traced the line of her jaw with one finger. "Though I'm particularly fond of certain aspects."

"Oh?" Her eyes sparked with mischief. "Do tell."

"Well," he said, affecting his most scholarly tone, "from a purely academic perspective, of course, I find your rebellious streak particularly fascinating."

"Purely academic?" She shifted closer, her body pressing against his in decidedly non-academic ways.

"Absolutely. I'm conducting a thorough study of all your fascinating attributes. It's important to be comprehensive in one's research."

"And what have you concluded so far?"

He pretended to consider. "That further investigation is required. Extensive further investigation."

The sound of a throaty laugh warmed him from the inside out. "How fortunate that we have the time."

"About that..." He glanced at the bedside clock. "Don't you need to get ready for your shift soon?"

"I think we have a few more minutes to spare. I love cuddling with you in bed."

He pulled her closer. "I don't want to be responsible for you being late on your third night on the job."

"Look at you, being all responsible and considerate." She pressed a kiss to his chest. "It's presumptuous of you to think it's up to you to decide, but I find it oddly attractive."

"Everything I do is oddly attractive to you."

---