Page 4 of Shelter (The Wanderers 4)

What she’d been told was that she should obey this man who was now her husband and service him without complaint. Service him how? She was smart enough to know it would have something to do with her body because the only thing she’d been given to wear to bed was this sheer white shift. It was practically see-through, hiding nothing. She was nervous and embarrassed.

Braylon’s back was to her. He stood at the window of the hotel room, his palms on the sill, his shoulders hunched, his head down. He looked defeated. He was wearing soft white pants and nothing else, and he spun around when he heard her.

He didn’t approach. Instead, he leaned his butt against the sill and gripped it at either side. He looked tense and uncertain—not at all what she’d expected.

She stood frozen, waiting for him to make the first move. Panic climbed up her chest, threatening to cause her to faint.

Braylon had been nothing but kind all day from their first tense moments at the altar to the dinner they’d attended and finally the long line of people they greeted—a procession of family friends—his, not hers. She had no friends or family.

At the altar, he’d held her gaze firmly and her hands tighter. He’d smiled warmly at her, somehow managing to express without words that he meant her no harm.

She’d at least known he hadn’t had any more say in their arranged marriage than she’d had. His parents had selected her from the girls’ home many years prior. He hadn’t seen her or known who they’d chosen.

She could blame him for nothing, but that didn’t make her any less frightened about his expectations on their wedding night.

“Haley…” he finally murmured. “Listen, I know you’re scared. You’re shaking so hard I can feel the vibrations from across the room.” He smiled, undoubtedly trying to help her relax, but he was unsuccessful.

She said nothing. What was there to say?

“I’d like to talk. Would that be okay?” he asked, as if she had a choice.

She nodded stiffly. She’d do anything to put off the inevitable.

“It would probably be best if we weren’t standing. Your legs are going to give out.” He pushed off the windowsill and rushed across the room. Before she could begin to figure out his intentions, he’d yanked the white comforter off the bed and came toward her.

He held it up, stepped behind her, and wrapped it around her shoulders. It was one of the kindest gestures anyone had shown toward her in fourteen years.

“Come.” He nodded toward the loveseat in the sitting area. “Sit.” He lowered himself onto one end and waited for her.

She took a deep breath and shuffled forward, dragging the awkward comforter with her, beyond grateful for every square inch of fabric. Sitting was difficult, but she managed, and then she looked at him. “Thank you,” she whispered.

“You’re welcome.” He smiled.

For the first time, she really looked at him. He was handsome. His brown hair was several shades lighter than her black hair. His skin was darker than hers though. Tanned. She was pale white. His bare chest was smooth and defined.

She had very few men to compare him to, however. The majority of the men she’d seen in her life had all been today at the wedding, and obviously, none of them had been bare-chested.

“I’m not a bad guy,” he said.

She swallowed and nodded.

He held her gaze and took a long deep breath before letting it out. “If you’ll work with me and keep our private life secret, I’ll do everything in my power to make sure you’re happy.”

Happy? What was happy? She had so little experience with that word to even use it for reference. She’d been happy when she was four, five, even six. She remembered her father swinging her high in the air while she squealed in delight. That had been happy. Since then?

Braylon ran a hand over his head. He looked nervous, and that pleased her. At least she wasn’t alone.

She forced herself to speak. “What… What do you mean?” Her voice was weak, soft, timid. She couldn’t help it.

“I mean neither of us asked to be put in this position and I have no intention of raping you tonight. Or any night, to be clear.”

She held his gaze, not looking away, her heart pounding. “I don’t know what rape is.”

He nodded slowly. “Right. Jesus.” He glanced away, his tone making her jump before he jerked his gaze back to her. “Shit. Sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. Do you know what we’re expected to do tonight?”

She started to nod and then switched the direction of her head movement and shook it instead. “Not really.”

“Did they tell you nothing?”

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