Page 76 of Undercover Shadow
Tag’s hand moved through my tangled hair, murmuring words I couldn’t make out over the helicopter’s noise but understood anyway.
When we touched down on Tag’s estate, Mrs. Murray stood in the doorway, waiting. She took one look at Tag and me and raced toward us.
“Oh, lass,” she said, putting her arm around me. When Tag let go, her embrace was fierce and warm and everything I needed. “Thank the Lord in heaven you’re all right.”
When she pulled away, her eyes were wet. “I’ll have a bath drawn. Food will be waiting when you’re ready.” She looked at Tag with an expression that held both worry and trust. “Take care of her.”
“I promise I will.” His words sounded like a vow.
Douglas appeared. “Sir?”
“Get in touch with Typhon. I anticipate a briefing if not tomorrow, soon.” Ever efficient.
“Roger that. I’ll take care of everything.”
Tag grinned as he squeezed the man’s shoulder. “Thank you, Douglas.”
The walk to my room felt endless. Each step sent pain through my ribs. Tag remained by my side, holding as much of me as he could and ready to catch me if I stumbled. When we reached my door, he hesitated.
“The heating’s acting up again. Best if you’re with me.”
“Your room then,” I said quietly.
He let out a breath of relief, then led me to his suite.
His rooms were warmed by a fire already crackling in the hearth. The bathroom was full of steam, the claw-foot tub already filled and waiting. Mrs. Murray had anticipated everything.
I stood, staring at the water, unable to make my body move. My hands shook as I tried to reach behind me to unfasten my tattered gown.
“Let me do it.” Tag’s voice was soft.
He lowered the zipper and eased the fabric off my shoulders. Marks on my arms were already vivid—purple and black where they’d grabbed me. He traced one gently, his jaw tightening. “I should have been there sooner.”
“You came exactly when I needed you.”
He helped me out of my undergarments after removing my weapons that Ambrose and his goons had been too crazed by power to look for. Not that I would’ve been able to reach them.
He was careful of the injuries on my ribs, and when I was naked, he guided me into the tub. The heat sank into my bones. I closed my eyes and let myself float.
“I’ll give you some?—”
“Stay.” The word came out as a plea.
He pulled a stool over and sat beside the tub. After a moment, his hands moved to my hair, working shampoo through the tangles. Neither of us spoke. The silence was enough—proof we were both here, both alive, both whole enough to put back together.
His fingers found a knot and worked it free gently. The simple domesticity of it—Tag washing my hair while I soaked away the nightmare—made my chest tight with emotion.
“I thought I was going to die.” The words tore out of me. “When I realized who Janus was, when he said he knew you, I thought you’d walk into his trap and we’d both?—”
“We didn’t, and that’s all that matters.”
When the water cooled, Tag helped me stand and wrapped me in a heated towel before pulling me against him.
“I didn’t trust you.” The confession came from somewhere deep inside him, and I leaned away so I could look into his eyes. “I didn’t trust that we could be different, that we wouldn’t become my parents.”
“We won’t. Not ever.” I touched his face.
His eyes closed, and he leaned into my palm.
