Page 18 of Color of Love

“Answer me, Blake!” Her raised voice commanded an answer from him. This time she penetrated his fear and he responded.

“It’s Walker, he’s bleeding. I can’t help him, it’s all my fault!” he cried. The image changed as Justine stepped into the desert and took his hands. Walker was still lying between them on the ground, writhing in pain.

“Blake, listen to me. We need to break the connection between the past trauma and whatever just triggered you. We’re going to try the ‘then and now’ technique, I need you to stay with me.”

His vision blurred, his stomach turned, and cold sweat was breaking out on his forehead. This wouldn’t go away, not until it played out in full. He couldn’t break the spell.

“Blake, what do you see then?” her voice firm, demanding.

He fought against himself, pain searing through his mind. “Then?”

“Yes, in your trauma, what is it you’re seeing?”

“Walker, he’s been shot, he’s dying,” he gritted out, sweat dripping down his temple, his muscles pulled tight with tension and ready for action.

“Good, that’s good, what do you see now?”

He looked around him, the image of her bleeding into the image of Walker, the two twining together and confusing him.

“Blake! What do you see now?” Her voice compelled him. His vision cleared slightly.

“You, I-I see you,” he gasped as his muscles tightened, fighting the need to act.

“Good, what else do you see then?” she replied, her voice becoming louder, but he couldn’t answer. He was standing in a military hospital, thousands of miles away, watching as the doctors tried to save Walker’s life.

“Hospital, he’s lost too much blood and it’s all my fault.”

“It’s not your fault, Blake. He’s lucky you got him out of there,” she replied, her voice soothing.

“He’s screaming in pain, and I can’t help him, I failed.”

“No, Blake, you didn’t fail. What can you see now?” Justine countered. He felt her warm hand grip his jaw. “Stay with me,” she commanded.

“I see…argh!” he cried out in frustration, the hospital fading in and out as trees came into view, “I see trees, the forest floor, not the desert.” His surroundings cleared, the heat of her body so close to his, pulling him back from the cold clinical infirmary and into his earthy surroundings. Her forehead was pressed so close to his, her palm cupping his cheek, connecting them. He was panting, his breathing calming.

“What do you see then?” she asked. He focused and saw nothing now but the trees. And her in that dress, the orange flowers on the material becoming his sole focus.

“Nothing, I see nothing,” he rasped. His stomach settled as he came back to the present, his eyes flicked to hers. The warmth shining from them, encouraging him, pride lighting them. The heat from their closeness, their mouths inches apart, breaths sawing out of them both. He couldn’t hear anything except the sound of her panting. She stroked her hand over his jaw, grounding him.

He looked at her mouth, that goddamn smart mouth of hers that drove him insane with her goddamn nosy questions. He wanted her, wanted to taste her, see how quickly he could make her moan. His cock hardened beneath his jeans as her eyes dipped to his mouth and heated.

Or do you just not like men prettier than you?

Her words teasing his mind. He was going to do it, his mind screaming at him not to even as his body leant forward, his heart pounding for an entirely different reason now. Did she want him too?

Her words from minutes earlier played through his mind; she wanted the fairy-tale. She was a princess trapped in her burning castle, waiting for Prince Charming to rush in and save her. But Blake wasn’t anyone’s hero, he was the villain holding the match. As though she sensed the change in him, she disengaged and stepped away, that professional smile of hers back in place. He spun away, angry with himself for his weakness. He walked back over to the rock and sat down, trying to conceal his arousal from her. She sat down next to him.

“Why was it your fault, Blake?” she asked gently.

“Why was what my fault?” he replied, his voice thick. He didn’t want to talk about this, he felt too vulnerable, his emotions scattered.

“Why was Walker’s injury your fault?” she pressed.

It was still too raw, he couldn’t talk about this, didn’t want to. But he knew he couldn’t shut her out after she had shared so many details about herself. He waited a long time before he replied, but he didn’t answer her question.

“I didn’t love my wife.”

Justine didn’t say anything, just waited for him to continue.

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