Page 71 of His Own Heaven

By hoarding her emotions like a dragon hoards gold.

But Toby wasn’t just anyone.

True, she’d hesitated to tell him anything, as she did with everyone—no one wants to hear about the time someone killed their own brother—but Toby was different.

Toby treated her like she mattered to him. He was sweet and kind and the sex was beyond amazing. But mostly, she liked that hesawher. He saw the real Lucy, not the hard-arse office manager or the speed dating sex-fiend or the stoic survivor.

Toby saw the submissive woman. He saw her need to be owned by him and wasn’t overwhelmed by that need. He didn’t run away from her. And sure, they’d both stumbled a bit, neither one of them used to being in a proper relationship, but the fact he was sticking around and giving it his best shot spoke volumes.

He didn’t make her feel like she was too much.

And she now knew the feeling that rose up inside her every time he walked in the room wasn’t just lust. It ran deeper than that. Hotter. Darker. Fuller. More insistent.

It was why she’d been so scared to open up about Michael in the first place, about how he’d died.

Truthfully, Lucy had been terrified by what Toby’s reaction might be, that he would reject her, and when he’d pushed her away and proved her right, it had hurt.

So much.

She’d gone into default mode and curled in on herself, protected herself, but then he’d apologised and held her hand and he’dlistened.

Men always underestimated the power of simply listening to a woman. Of hearing her and understanding that she didn’t need him to solve her problems for her. Lucy wasn’t sure Toby understood that yet, not completely. He was so used to being in charge, being obeyed. So used to protecting others.

When she’d spoken to the staff at the garden centre, not a single one of them had anything bad to say about their boss. And not in the usual snitches-get-stitches, cone-of-silence way she’d witnessed at the security firm.

Toby’s staff had made it clear they had nothing but respect and affection for the man, with “quiet” and “firm but fair” being the most common choice of words used to describe him.

During their little tête-à-tête, the café manager, Ashley, couldn’t sing Toby’s praises high enough. Not necessarily as an office manager, but definitely as a man. And Lucy was pretty sure the young woman had a crush on the boss.

She wasn’t overly enthused about the situation, but she couldn’t blame the girl—Toby was hot! But as long as Ashley kept her hands to herself, they wouldn’t have a problem.

Smiling to herself about her hot boss and imagining the even hotter sex she was about to have, Lucy rolled over and reached for Toby, but when she saw nothing but bedspread, she panicked.

Scrambling to sit up, she noticed the other side of the bed wasn’t just empty, it looked as though someone had tried to make the bed. And Toby was nowhere to be seen. His clothes and shoes had vanished too, almost as though he was never there.

Maybe he wasn’t. Maybe she’d just dreamt him up. Maybe her secrets were still her secrets and she hadn’t made a fool of herself in front of her boss. Or maybe she had. Maybe Toby had decided Lucywastoo much to deal with and had snuck out before dawn. Maybe he was done, finished. Gone. He’d heard her out and decided she wasn’t worth the effort after all.

Wrapping her arms around herself, Lucy dropped her chin to her chest and let the tears come. She’d finally found someone she trusted enough to share everything with, someone she could love, and it was over before it had even begun.

“Baby, what’s wrong? Did you have another nightmare?”

In an instant Toby was there, gathering her to him, gently rocking her in the cradle of his strong arms and stroking her hair away from her face.

“You’re still here,” Lucy whispered, bewildered, and swallowed down her panic, forced herself to breathe normally. “I thought you’d left.”

What she’d really meant to say was “I thought you’d leftme.”

Hating how clingy and pathetic that sounded, even if it was only inside her head, she tried to sit up and move out of Toby’s embrace, prove she wasn’t a melodramatic basket case and didn’t need his softness and warmth.

That she did need him for anything.

She didn’t need him at all.

But Toby was clever. Clever enough to see her defences for what they were. The actions of a scaredy-cat trying desperately to avoid any more hurt.

“Oh no you don’t,” he said, a warning tone deepening his commanding voice. “Don’t go getting all prickly on me now, baby.”

If the way he tightened his arms around her was any indication, Toby was definitely more stubborn than her. The more Lucy struggled to free herself, the tighter his hold became. And still tired from her restless night, she quickly conceded defeat and slumped against him. Admittedly she hadn’t triedveryhard to escape, not when what she really wanted was to be exactly where she was.

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