In the hours that ensued, he’d felt like peeling his skin off and turning himself inside out. The absolute helplessness he felt not being able to talk to her, to see for himself how she was—it was about to send him right over the edge. Not that he needed much at the moment.
When he’d discovered where she’d gone and how she’d gotten there, his hopes had plummeted. He knew damn well that Damon Roche was interested in Faith, and that if she gave him the slightest bit of encouragement, he’d be all over her.
The sun was sinking over the horizon when he pulled into the driveway of the beach house. He got out and walked as quickly as he could up the stairs to the front door. He debated for a moment about whether to knock, but he shrugged off the urge. It was door-die time. The worst she could do was tell him to fuck off.
He tried the knob and found it unlocked, so he opened the door and walked in. As he walked into the living room, his gaze fell on the couch where she was asleep.
His mouth went dry. His heart beat a little faster, and he clenched his hands into fists at his sides.
He moved quietly and dropped to his knees beside the couch as he drank in her appearance. She looked unbelievably fragile, like she required tender handling. He was almost afraid to touch her. Almost.
Unable to resist the softness of her cheek, he trailed a finger down her jawline to the corner of her mouth then eased it over her velvet lips.
A painful surge rushed through his chest when he saw the tearstains on her face. He leaned down and kissed each reddened spot.
She stirred beneath him, and her eyes fluttered open. “Gray?” she whispered.
“Yes, baby, it’s me.”
Shadows fell over her eyes, and he could sense her withdrawal. As though she was steeling herself against him.
It damn near broke his heart.
Not wanting her to withdraw even further, he reached for her and pulled her gently into his embrace. He held her close, absorbing the fact that she was safe and alive. She felt fragile and oh so very precious in his arms.
“I couldn’t bear to lose you,” he said, his voice catching with emotion. “These last few days have been hell, when all I’ve wanted to do is hold you, touch you, tell you how much I love you.”
She went still against him. Then she pulled slightly away until their gazes met. “I needed some time to think,” she said quietly.
He reached out to cup her face in his hand. “Faith, I didn’t use you as bait. I didn’t set up our time at the beach house to lure Samuels out. I would never do that to you.”
She put a finger over his lips. “I know, Gray. Pop told me what happened. I understand. He told me that he asked you not to tell me about the potential danger I was in. He feels terrible.”
His brows drew together in confusion. “Then why…I don’t understand. If you know…” He stopped and started over again. “Why are you upset?” he finally spit out.
Deep sadness welled in her eyes. His heart dropped to his stomach. God, he’d do anything to take that sadness away.
She looked away as a tear slipped down her cheek. He reached up and thumbed it away. “Oh, baby, don’t cry. Tell me what’s wrong so I can fix it.”
She looked back at him. “You can’t.” She took a deep, shuddering breath. “Gray, I understand why you did what you did. I’m not angry. I accept that you didn’t come to the beach house in order to draw your partner’s killer out. What I can’t accept is the fact that nothing that happened was real. I can’t live with the fact that you only gave me what you knew I wanted in order to get close to me, in order to get information and then ultimately to protect me. You were so sure I was playing games and only wanted a fantasy, but what were you doing if not providing a facade for me?”
“Faith, oh my God—”
She shook her head. “No, let me finish. I want you. God, I want you. But only if it’s real. I can’t live with the fact that I’ve found exactly what I want and need so badly if it’s all an act. I don’t want it if it’s not real.”
He framed her face in both hands, urgent, his need to make her hear him, his heart, all consuming. “Listen to me, Faith. And listen good. I love you. You. Not some idea of what I’ve always wanted. Not some fantasy that I think I need to give you. I. Love. You. You.
“God almighty, it was never a game. Never. It couldn’t have been more real for me. I hated having to deceive you. I was determined to tell you the truth, even though Pop wanted me to remain silent. But when I got here, and you looked so vulnerable, all I could think about was protecting you. I didn’t want you to hurt. Ever. And I paid for that. I paid dearly.