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Giving In(43)

By:Maya Banks


Kylie had reached her breaking point and goddamn it but he’d pushed her solidly over the edge. It horrified him, was still an ache in his gut, that he’d reminded her of past hurts. It set his teeth on edge. He only wanted to make it right, however that had to be done. And he only knew one way to do that.

It meant pushing her, but in a different way. He only wanted to take care of her. To allow her to lean on someone else, something he was certain she’d never done. She was a solitary figure, a reflection of himself in many ways. Two lonely, scarred souls. Maybe together they could heal.

Somehow he had to break past her barriers, follow the path to the very heart and soul of her and prove that she could trust him. That she could rely on him, that he’d never willingly hurt her. Nothing in his current thoughts even alluded to sex. That could wait. Forever if necessary.

This wasn’t about sex or making love. He couldn’t very well lie and say that he didn’t want her, that he didn’t lie awake at night aching with need to make love to her. But she wasn’t ready. And when the time did come, he knew he was going to have to do something he’d never done with any other woman.

Relinquish control.

It wasn’t an entirely comfortable thought. It made him feel . . . vulnerable. But however vulnerable he felt, the emotion was tenfold for Kylie. For her he could and would make the ultimate sacrifice. She was worth it. He knew it to his bones.

Some things were just meant to be and he and Kylie were one of those things. He’d recognized it the moment they’d met. She’d been unable to meet his gaze. She was understandably skittish around him. But something about her fragility and the iron core he saw, the resolve and strength in her even as fragile as she’d seemed, just struck a chord with him.

Here was a woman who was meant for him and he hoped to hell he was meant for her.

He’d never been a big believer in fate or destiny, but the moment he’d laid eyes on Kylie he’d realized that she was his destiny. The hell of it was whether he would be hers.

He pulled into his drive and quickly got out, opening the door to the backseat where Kylie still lay unconscious. He wondered if she’d slept at all during his absence. He needed to call Chessy. He’d touched base with her only once, the morning after when Chessy had told him she’d spent the night and Kylie had awakened screaming from nightmares.

He closed his eyes briefly as the pain of that phone conversation hit him all over again. The knowledge that he’d done that to her. Had pushed her too far too fast too soon. He’d been remiss in not checking in more frequently with Chessy, but guilt had kept him from making another call. He’d been a fool. It wasn’t a mistake he’d make again. Ever.

Not again. This time it would all be up to her. She was in the driver’s seat except when it came to matters of her health. That he would solidly take over and he felt zero remorse for what he was embarking on. Kylie needed someone. And that someone was going to be him.

He gathered her gently in his arms and carried his precious bundle inside, kicking the door shut behind him. Bypassing the living room, he walked into his bedroom and eased her down on the bed.

She never even stirred when he pulled the covers from beneath her and then repositioned her so her head was resting on a pillow. He slipped off her shoes but left her clothed. He was in no way taking advantage of her weakened state and she’d be freaked-out enough when she woke in a strange bed. He wanted no question in her mind that he’d not so much as touched her.

He slid the covers up over her body and then tenderly pushed the strands of hair from her face, tucking them behind one ear.

For a long moment he simply stood there staring down at her, filled with the sense of rightness. She belonged here. In his bed. In his home. She didn’t know it yet, but this was where she was the safest. Where he could protect her from whatever threatened her. He’d move heaven and earth to ensure she felt protected.

Had she ever truly felt safe with anyone except her brother? He knew she had good friends, a tight circle of people, only a handful. But he wondered if any one of them ever truly saw to the heart of her. If she ever confided her darkest fears and secrets.

Everything he’d learned about her had been from a third party. But he wanted her to trust him enough to share her past with him herself. Not because he had any morbid curiosity. What he did know sickened him. He simply wanted her trust and knew it wouldn’t be given easily.

But she’d already said that she trusted him on some level. Had said somewhat in bewilderment that she seemed to just blurt out things to him she wouldn’t ordinarily confide. That had to mean something, didn’t it?