Page 10 of Splintered Security
From the moment the water slides on, I start snooping. I know I shouldn’t and, quite honestly, I’ll have all the time I could ever want, but curiosity gets the best of me.
I’ve known Ren since I was six years old. But I haven’t known him in more than a decade. And since my life is now tied to his, and my safety only as good as his protection, I’m curious.
The reticent boy I knew, the one who was welcoming and kind, even if he was a bit aloof, is now all man. Like “oh my God, every head turns when he walks in the room” kind of man. He’s mysterious, and I have no doubt that adds to his charm.
No woman will ever know his secrets, and I’m sure most would die trying to unravel them.
His home is well-appointed if a little plain. It’s obvious a woman has never lived here. Shame on me for not even asking if he was seeing someone. This marriage of convenience may not be convenient at all for him. Will he continue seeing her? Will our marriage be a sham?
That thought causes me to snort as I open drawers and look inside closet doors. The last thing this is is convenient.
I’m uprooting my life, moving cities, changing my name, and everything else that goes with that nightmare. I also need a job.
A pounding through the bathroom wall makes me lose all my qualms. I run for the en suite bath in Ren’s bedroom hoping he hasn’t collapsed or something. I skid to a halt just in time to hear a moan echo off the bathroom walls.
That’s not a moan of pain. That’s… I tilt my head like it can help me hear any more clearly or rewind the scene so I can listen again. That was the sexiest thing I’ve ever heard in my life. I drop my eyes, committing the sound to memory, feeling warmth move through my body straight to my core.
Pure bliss suffuses me and lust pounds in my veins, just as the door pulls wide. There stands Ren in nothing but a towel. His chest glistens with water droplets. The fact that I notice them at all when his chest and abs look the way they do is a testament to my willpower.
Seriously. He has the vee. Good God, what have I gotten myself into?
He stands stock still, rivulets of water running from his hair onto his broad shoulders. He says nothing, but his face asks a hundred questions. The loudest of them is what am I doing here?
“I... Uh.” I bolt.
I literally run out the door, down the hall to the kitchen. It’s the farthest away from Ren and his water droplets, and the sound of his ecstasy. I open the walk-in pantry and step inside, closing the door behind me, as if that will save me from my own stupidity.
I peruse the shelves like the items here are worthy of my scrutiny. It takes less than a minute, but light pours into the little space from the open door. Ren fills the frame. His chest is bare. He wears only basketball shorts slung dangerously low on his hips. His belly button is an outie, but I already knew that. It’s the black hair surrounded it, pointing straight to his?—
Shit. I’m staring. I look away, facing the pasta section with great interest and put a thumb and forefinger to my chin. I need this to look like the most serious decision I’ve had to make this month, because I’ll die of embarrassment if we discuss anything that just happened.
“Hungry?” His voice is serious, but his lips tip up in a smirk.
“Starving.” I let my eyes trail the ingredients on his shelves like it’s my stomach we’re talking about. “You cook?”
“Yes. Come on out, Anni.” He gestures for me to trade places with him. “I’ll whip us up something quick.”
I’ll overlook the word “whip” so long as the topic stays somewhere safe.
“Are you allergic to anything?”
“Nope.” I raise my voice a bit, taking a seat at the bar, and silently catalog the ingredients.
Pasta and garlic come from the pantry. He grabs something green from the fridge, along with a couple of eggs and some bacon.
It’s when he turns around to set them on the counter that I suck in air.
Just like that, I’m off the stool and behind him. My gasp is the only sound in the room aside from the hum of the refrigerator. Ren’s back is pulverized. I reach up tentatively, but can’t find a place for my hands to touch or stroke that won’t cause more pain.
“We need to get you to the hospital.” My voice is a ragged whisper. I have no power behind it to compel the air out.
“I’m fine.”
‘This is not fine, Ren. I—” I search his back. New injuries and old. “I didn’t know.”
I don’t know lots of things. How much of this is tonight? Why did he protect me like he did? What the hell was here before that explosion?
I finally rest a hand on his hip. When air hisses through his lips, I quickly remove it. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
