Total pages in book: 155
Estimated words: 146417 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 732(@200wpm)___ 586(@250wpm)___ 488(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 146417 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 732(@200wpm)___ 586(@250wpm)___ 488(@300wpm)
“I opened it to check on you,” he admitted.
Of course he had. He didn’t even trust her to sleep properly. “I wasn’t trying to leave if that’s what you’re worried about.”
“I know, but I did check to make sure your bag was still there. I know you think it would be easier to do this on your own.”
She shook her head. “No, I don’t. Not in any way. But I do think it would be easier to have a partner who trusted me, who wanted to be with me.”
His hands went to his hips, a sure sign all that silence from him was threatening to explode. “I came for you.”
“I know, and I have to wonder why.” She winced as the pain shot through her again.
“Lie down on the table. The one to your left.”
“I’m fine but I need to stretch.” She’d managed to go hours without talking to him. She didn’t intend to start now.
He wasn’t ready to move past what they’d been through. He might never be ready. When his brother had died, something had broken inside Beck and she wasn’t sure it could be healed. At least not by her.
She would walk a bit and stretch and get through the pain.
He moved in and she suddenly found herself swept up into his arms.
“Hey,” she said even as she held on.
“I’m sorry I’m being an ass,” he said quietly as he moved toward the table he’d pointed out. “I can’t seem to help myself with you.”
“A good reason for you to go back to The Garden as soon as it’s safe.” In so many ways it would be easier to be on her own. Simply being around him broke her heart.
He laid her gently on the big table. “Roll on your stomach. I still remember how to do this.”
Because in the beginning, he’d been the one to deal with the pain left from her time with an unfriendly government. In their defense, she had been spying at the time, but it didn’t help the shooting pains she still got or the aches she suffered from the broken femur.
Beck had been the one to come for her. Her husband. They’d only been married a few weeks when she’d gotten in trouble. He’d been the one standing at the opposite end of the tunnel at the prisoner exchange. He’d been the one to pick her up and hold her. He hadn’t let go of her hand until they’d wheeled her back for surgery.
And Beck had been the one to hug her and kiss her and not give her a second’s grief when she went on her next assignment. He’d understood the job, known she was competent.
She rolled on her stomach, giving him the access he needed. “I think eight hours in the car probably did it.”
He put one big hand on the small of her back and heat flooded her system. “Really? You think it was the drive and not the fact that you were in a horrific car accident?”
The minute he pressed down in exactly the right place she sighed. Sometimes the absence of pain was pure pleasure. “Can you call it an accident? I think that was pretty much what Ari intended to do. I’m not complaining. I was never happier to get out of a limo in my life. God, that feels good.”
He started to work the muscle in easy strokes. “I would have done pretty much anything to get you out of that car. I know I was an ass earlier. I’m sorry. I do want to be here with you. It’s complicated. Ever since I saw you again in Colorado, I can’t stop thinking about you, about our marriage. I thought I was over it all.”
“I don’t think our marriage is the kind of thing you get over. I know I haven’t, and I know why, but I don’t think we have the same reasons.”
“Because you still love me.”
She hated how vulnerable that made her, but it was true. “Yes.”
“Why do you think that can’t be my reason, too?” Beck asked.
She shook her head. “I don’t want to fight. Anything I say right now is going to push you over the edge and I just can’t.”
He was quiet for a moment, his strong hands easing her pain. She wished she wasn’t wearing the pajama bottoms she’d found, wished she’d had a gown on instead so she could feel those hands on her skin.
“That’s what I do, isn’t it? I argue with anything you say. Even if I agree with it, I fight. Do you wonder why that is?” Beck’s voice was as soothing as his hands.
“Because you hate me.”
“Because if I don’t, if I let my guard down for a single second, I’ll remember everything I ever loved about you and I’ll give in. But lately I’ve wondered if I’m not punishing myself as much as I am you. And I’m wondering why I’m punishing you at all.”