Page 89 of Stripped

"You're not leaving at this time of night."

"Why do you care? You can barely look at me, let alone touch me or comfort me."

"Comfort you?" He walked over and crouched down in front of her. "Buggar-all." He put his hand at the back of her head until their foreheads touched. "I want nothing more than to put my arms around you and hold you." His voice was so quiet, she could barely hear him. "You're ripping my heart out." He stood back up and went to the window, looking out. "I've never said those words before. I love you. And I've never had them said to me. It was the first time."

"I've never, either," she said. "I meant it."

"Did you? Or did you say it to throw me off track, so I wouldn't find out about Sokolov?" She could hear the pain in his voice.

"Of course not. I meant it."

"But you already knew about the rose Sokolov sent and you didn't tell me. You had already seen the notecard of the Alasdair Gray painting from him." He leaned up against the dresser.

"Yes."

"Why did you hide it?" he demanded.

"I didn't hide it." She looked down, unable to meet his gaze.

"You did. You hid it in your dance bag, then you let me make love to you minutes later." He smirked, "Or should I say, you let me fuck you. I'm sure it was just sex for you." He threw his hands up. "And you chose that moment to tell me you love me."

"I didn't know what would happen with Sokolov. I wanted you to know. I needed you to know," she tried to explain.

"So, you knew you would see him?" His shoulders slumped, and she couldn't miss the hurt in his voice.

"No, not at that moment. I hadn't read the last note yet."

"There was another note?"

She nodded. "It was in my purse."

"With the gun?"

"Yes."

"You had five professional men to protect you and handle the situation, yet you ran off by yourself." His jaw clenched.

"It wasn't like that, Wraith. I swear to you."

"You know what hurts the most. You said you loved me, but you didn't trust me."

"But I did trust you. I trusted you to find me," she said softly. "You know, Wraith, everything I've done in my life, I've done alone. I've been on my own since I was ten. Sent away to school, to figure things out by myself. I lost my father, my one true support, and the rest of the people in my life didn't turn out to be who I thought they were. So, if I'm struggling with letting you in, maybe I have my reasons. But I did trust you today. I trusted that when I ran off to find Sokolov, you would find me, and you did."

"Why did you go to him?" The anger was gone from his voice, replaced with what sounded like resignation.

"He had Hamish. Two other people had already died because of me. I couldn't let him too."

He sat down beside her, his own cheeks wet with tears. "Is that the only reason?"

She was quiet for a moment. "I wanted his approval. I wanted him to tell me I had done well. But as soon as I saw him, I knew I was wrong. He's mad and he wanted to draw me into the same madness. The only thing I could think of was you and of you finding me."

He put his arm around her, pulling her close to him, and she felt safe for the first time that night. "I am sorry," she said.

"Aye, come here." He lay back, bringing her with him so her head rested on his chest. "I've got you." They were both wounded and raw, their hearts splayed open. His hand gently caressed her cheek.

"How did you find me?" she asked after a while.

"Dougie was able to connect Sokolov to Green Shore Productions and the after party at Òran Mór," he said. "When we got there, the SUV was pulling out of the car park and I knew you were in it. I could feel you. It was the strangest thing."

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