Page 93 of Legacy of Danger
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Everything in his life had come down to this moment, Vaughn was certain of it. His power flowed around him, encasing both of them in a protective, invisible bubble. So right. So perfect and complete. He couldn't imagine a day in his life without Mariah in it.
No.
He shouldn't be thinking like that.
Shit.
If he wanted to atone for his bad decision-making a year ago, he'd picked a hell of a way to do it. He hadn't even told her everything he'd done in the past, what he had been. What he currently was. If Mariah knew, no way would she have jumped into bed with him. And what about her need for a long-term relationship? It was clear that he couldn't deliver on those goods.
But could he walk away from this woman?
Even if he stayed, no way would she want a relationship with a guy with as much baggage as Vaughn.
Damn it.
She mumbled in her sleep, and he loosened his rigid grip on her. Not an easy task, considering that every cell in his body screamed at him to surround her more. Hell, there were a few inches of her still uncovered, vulnerable—a fact that made him slide more of his body over hers. His damned ability drove him beyond paranoia. He needed to protect her in every way possible.
Was that Vaughn or his power talking?
Didn't matter. They were one and the same. Which was yet another reason he was one messed up dude. What woman wanted a guy with weird psychic powers that turned him into the biggest Cro-Magnon man in the universe. What woman wanted an adulterer? An alcoholic?
Oh, Christ. What had he done?
When her mumbles turned to soft cries, he flipped on the bedside lamp. Liquid pooled between the corner of her eye and the bridge of her nose. Shit.
"Mariah? Sweetheart?"
She struggled against him, her small body no match for his. But he let go completely.
"Mariah? You're having a dream."
Her spiked lashes fluttered. A second of brow-raising terror was swiftly followed by a droop to her pretty mouth. A fist formed in his chest.
"Okay. It's okay." Was she talking to herself or to him? "I'm good. Fine. All good. It's okay."
"Um." He wanted to roll on top of her to keep anything bad away, but that might not be the best tactic. "You want me to hold you?"
Turning to bury her face in his chest, she mumbled, "Yes, please."
He might have no future with her. He might have a bad past. But for right now, he'd hold her like his existence depended on it, for as long as she wanted. He cradled her, shifting and shifting again, restless, desperate to surround her. "You're safe."
"I know. Sorry. Just... bad memories sometimes."
"From being trapped in that room?"
Her nod made her hair tickle his nose, but he didn't move. "When I get stressed, sometimes the bad dreams come back."
"Was I that bad?"
"What?"
"So bad that you got stressed out?"
Her giggle dropped the tension in the room.
"I'm fine," she said.
