Page 32 of Breaking the Cowboy's Rules

One nightmare and her parents had wanted to check her into a hospital. Take legal control over her.

She didn’t need an imagination to know that Bodhi would be freaked out and wanting to drop her off on the sidewalk outside the hotel with a ‘thanks, no thanks.’

“No worries,” he said. “I was feeling too much Zen. Good to shake things up. Keeps me alive.”

Her heart pounded still, making her feel sick. And her breathing was still erratic. He continued to rub her back, long, sure strokes. She tried to keep herself strong but the kindness and concern in his eyes drew her in. She heard herself make a sound like a wild animal as she leaned into him. He wrapped her up in a one-arm hug that pressed her against his body, and somehow the pressure helped everything jangling inside of her to begin the slow process of settling down.

She looked up into his dark blue eyes that reflected the black of the night. His face showed concern, yet he was rock steady.

What would it have been like if…no. She couldn’t think like that. Her path and Bodhi’s path would never have crossed. And if they had, he would have dismissed her as an arrogant, entitled ice princess looking only to ice pick her way further up the mountain.

And now she was Nico Steel—whoever that was.

“Better?” he asked, his hands smoothing up and down her arms.

The urge to burrow into him was primal. Could she siphon off some of his strength and warmth—enough to make it through the night, the next day?

“Nico, better? Tell me the truth,” he said. “I can’t help you if I don’t know what you’re feeling.”

She pressed her trembling lips together. No. Yes.

“You just…met me…in a…b-bb-ar.” Her teeth started to chatter. Totally undignified. How could he begin to take her seriously, care about her, when they met like that? He didn’t know about her family, but he also didn’t know about her accomplishments that she thought she’d worked hard enough to earn on her own merits, even as so many people reminded her that she’d had an endless supply of nepotistic assistance.

“Nico.” He leaned down a little so that his eyes nearly merged into one midnight lake to swallow her up. “You’re safe with me.”

She nodded. She felt safe. And she hadn’t for the past year while her life had frayed, unraveled, exploded.

“I feel…” She moistened her lips, nerves seizing her rib cage and squeezing her flat. A nightmare. “Safe…with you. Ummm, embarrassed though.”

How was it possible that he pulled her closer? Her head rested against his shoulder, and she could feel his steady heartbeat. She wanted to stay here all night.

For the rest of my life.

She sighed at the melodramatic thought, and yet, when had she ever been held to comfort? She’d never been able to count on anyone for comfort. Never. And Bodhi was practically a stranger. A man people she knew would scorn. Take as a joke. But comforting, not shaming or dismissing, had been his first instinct.

“You are such an unusual man.” She hadn’t meant to speak the thought out loud.

“In a good way, I hope,” he quizzed.

“In an unimaginable way.”

Things were silent for a little while, but the silence was comfortable, not judging.

“That was some nightmare,” he murmured, clearly an invitation to share.

She couldn’t. Ever. He’d never look at her the same. Or hold her again.

Don’t be an idiot.

He wasn’t really holding her. This was an act. A game. He was playing a part, and he’d asked her to play one too. Just as she’d done her entire life.

“I haven’t had one in a long time,” she said. Not exactly true. But instead of being plagued by them nightly for months, she’d managed to distance herself enough that she could go a week sometimes without being jolted awake—heart pounding, breath seizing, and blinded by a sea of blood and…she squeezed her eyes shut as if that had ever shut down the memories.

“I’m sorry,” she said, shakily.

“Not your fault, Nico,” he said softly, his hands still soothing her, and she felt like that was the only thing holding her together. She’d come back so much faster this time. Sometimes the panic attacks and disorientation would last for ten minutes or more, and she would hold herself and rock and try to talk herself down on her bathroom floor.

It was her fault.

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