Page 72 of The Hunter
His woman.
Christopher shook his head to clear it of the errant thought. Millie wasn’t an object to acquire, she was another human being. One with desires and attachments of her own. One who’d never tempered herself with training, hardened her body with punishment, or inflicted violence upon another. And yet, an instinct, primitive and possessive, surged through him with the intensity of a tidal wave. Only one word carried through the quiet, still morning and braved the tumultuous storm swirling and screaming inside of him, barely contained by his sinew and skin.
Mine.
No.No,he berated himself more firmly. Millie wasn’t his. He couldnotpossess her and refused to become attached. She was a possession of the stage, she was beholden to her son, and she belonged to her adoring public.
Hebelonged to no one.
Breathing around the strange dull ache in his chest, Christopher whispered her name. He’d not come here to lay claim to her, no matter how intensely his body urged him to do so. He’d promised to protect her. And to keep that promise, he knew he must teach her to protect herself.
Because he could not always be with her. She’d made him vow to leave her alone when their arrangement was through.
But a woman like her was never alone. Never lonely. Constantly surrounded by friends, fans, and a loving son, her life would be full of others.
Yes, he’d leave her. But it was Christopher who would be alone.
Again.
Always.
The dull ache became a cold stab, and Christopher said her name, louder this time, hoping to pull her out of her world of dreams. She slept the sleep of the innocent. No weapons within reach, no weight pressing her down in the night, threatening to consume her the moment her eyes closed. No bitter knowledge that the only way to protect oneself from the danger in the shadows was to become one with the darkness, a creature from the depths of the abyss.
The very thing that goes bump in the night.
Harsh, cold reality awaited her here in the daylight, and he needed to prepare her for it, or he’d never sleep again.
“Millie.” He said her name with force, reaching down to touch her shoulder. Even through the overlarge nightgown, her bones felt fragile beneath his hand. It would take nothing at all to break her. But he knew if his large, brutal hands ever did her harm, he would be the one who shattered.
He could think of this no longer without losing his sanity… his control.
Tightening his grip on her shoulder, he shook her gently. When she did not stir, his brows drew together, and a small chill formed in his gut.
Was she well? Had she done herself some harm during the night?
Was she breathing?
Seizing the covers, Christopher flung them from her, bellowing her name in a low, desperate tone he didn’t even recognize as his own.
She sprang to life with a strangled sound, limbs flailing, and were Christopher a man with lesser reflexes, he would not have caught her wrist in time before her fist connected with his face.
Glassy, frightened eyes stared at him for a moment from a tangle of unruly hair until they darkened with anger.
“Get dressed,” Christopher ordered. “I have a few things to teach you.”
Each time Millie blinked, a different emotion peered out from her bleary eyes, none of them particularly flattering. Confusion, annoyance, indignation, and then accusation. “What—what time is it?” she asked, her voice husky with sleep as she pressed her palm to one twitching eyelid.
Her voice. He’d only heard that register once before.
If you don’t kiss me, I’ll die.
The loose bodice of her nightgown slid down her arm, baring her creamy shoulder and skimming the curve of one breast.
Instantly his body reacted, his cock swelling with such momentum, he felt a pang of discomfort low in his belly. He hadn’t been aware his hand was tightening on her wrist until she winced.
Instantly, he released her. “It’s just after dawn,” he clipped. “Now put some clothes on.”
Millie narrowed mulish eyes at his bare chest, her jaw thrusting forward in a gesture that was becoming somewhat familiar. “Youput some clothes on,” she snapped. “And wake me at a more decent hour.” Scowling, she grasped at the covers and heaped them on top of herself, before rolling away from him and sinking back into the bed.
