Burn (13 page)

She ducked her head self-consciously and then peeked back up at him from underneath her lashes.

“They’re self-portraits. I mean, not that you can tell who it is, but I used my likeness in a series of nude poses. I have a . . . tattoo, one I designed myself, and it features prominently in the paintings. I . . . I like them. I think they’re good. I hope the buyer will like them too.”

There was a note of anxiety at the end of her statement that made his heart clench. Hell yes he’d like them, and he’d be damned if anyone else even got to see them. They would be his. Only his. And only he would see her without her clothing. That was for him and him alone.

No doubt, Josie was a beautiful woman, and there was also little doubt that men and women alike would be drawn to the paintings. She had talent, no matter what the moron gallery manager had said about her style. It was only a matter of time before others discovered that talent. Ash was just glad he got to those paintings before someone else did. The idea of anyone else having something so intimate of Josie’s made his teeth clench.

“I’m sure your buyer will love them,” he said. Even as he spoke, he made a mental note to call Mr. Downing first thing Monday morning and make damn sure he wrapped and delivered the paintings to Ash’s office. “I’d love to have seen them myself.”

She blushed but smiled and then said, “Perhaps I can take you down to the gallery to see them. I only just dropped them off. Maybe the buyer won’t have bought them yet. They may sit there for days.”

He leaned in, touching her cheek and letting his fingers travel down her jaw to her neck where he pushed back the long blond strands of her hair. “I’d rather you draw me something new. Something no one but me will see. Perhaps even something a bit more erotic than your other paintings?”

Her eyes widened and then her brow furrowed as if she were visualizing the painting already. Her lips parted and her breath escaped in an excited rush. He could literally see her painting it in her mind.

“I have ideas,” she said. “I’d love to do something more personal. I mean, as long as you never displayed it.”

He shook his head solemnly. “No one but me will ever see it. I’ll treasure whatever you paint for me, Josie. But if you give me you, the sexy you, you can be damn certain it will only be for me and nobody else.”

“Okay,” she murmured, her face flushed with color and . . . arousal.

“Have you had enough to eat?”

She nodded and handed him the half-empty glass of wine. He set it aside and then took the tray to his dresser and left it before returning to the bed. And Josie.

He climbed in, holding his arm out so she could nestle beside him. They were leaned up against his mound of pillows, her body anchored against his.

“Now tell me about Michael,” Ash said in an even tone.

She stiffened against him and for a long moment she was silent. Then she sagged and blew out her breath.

“I was so wrong about him,” she whispered. “I never imagined him capable of something like this. Even during our relationship, when he exerted his . . . dominance . . . it was always done in a restrained, careful manner. He always treated me very carefully. Like he was determined never to hurt me.”

“Where were you when this occurred?” Ash demanded. “Did you go see him?”

She shook her head. “No. He came to me.”

Ash swore. “You let him into your apartment?”

She pushed up and off him, turning so she could look him in the eye. “Why wouldn’t I have? Ash, we were lovers. He never gave me any reason to believe he’d hurt me. He never lost his temper. Not once. I never even saw him angry. He’s always been very calm and restrained. He came to see me because he didn’t believe I was serious about ending our relationship. He brought the collar back, apologizing, saying that it evidently meant something to me and that he would be aware of that going forward.”

Ash frowned but didn’t interrupt her.

“When I told him it was over, he demanded to know why.”

She broke off, glancing away, folding her hands in her lap as she presented her profile to him. He pulled her tighter against him, molding her to his body. He could feel her pulse, how agitated she’d become.

“What happened then?” he asked softly.

“I told him that he couldn’t give me the things another man had promised me,” she whispered.

Ash’s hold tightened further. “Go on.”

“He freaked. I mean completely lost it. The words were barely out of my mouth when he slapped me. I was so shocked that I didn’t even know what to do. And then he was standing over me, where I’d fallen, and he hit me again. He wrapped his hands in my hair and accused me of cheating on him. Told me that he’d handled me far too gently. That if he’d been the way he should have with me this would have never happened, that I would have never cheated.”

“Son of a bitch,” Ash ground out. “I’ll kill him for this.”

She shook her head violently. “No! Ash, leave it alone. It’s done with. It’s over.”

“The hell it is!”

He calmed his breathing and forced the rage from his mind and eased his grip on her arm where his fingers had dug into her skin. She would wear no marks from him. None that weren’t given in passion and tenderness. None that she wouldn’t want to wear.

“I should have gone to the police,” she said in a low voice. “I should have pressed charges. Had him arrested. But God, I was just in shock. And then I felt so . . . stupid. How could I not have seen this in him? That capacity for violence? How could I have had sex with him and never known what lay underneath his façade? When I think of what could have happened. I trusted him. Implicitly. I gave him full access to my body. He could have done anything to me. It’s why . . .”

She broke off, going silent against him. He pushed her hair from her battered cheek and then pressed a kiss to the bruised flesh.

“Why what?” he asked gently.

She closed her eyes. “It’s why I didn’t call you. Why I didn’t come to you. Why I didn’t accept what you offered. I was . . . afraid.”

He tensed, his gaze focusing intently on her. “Afraid of
me
?”

She nodded miserably.

He sucked in his breath. He understood. He didn’t like hearing it, but he understood.

“I get it,” he said, stroking his hand up her arm. “You thought because you misjudged him so badly that you couldn’t trust your judgment of me and my intentions.”

She nodded again.

“I understand, but Josie, you need to get this. I am
not
Michael.”

She glanced back up at him, hope stirring in her eyes. She wanted to believe him. Wanted to trust herself and her instincts where he was concerned.

“I will never hurt you,” he said, the vow coming solemnly from his lips. “If we have issues, we work them out. And it does not involve me raising my hand to you. Ever.”

“Okay,” she whispered.

“Come here,” he murmured, stretching his other arm to her.

She didn’t hesitate and promptly buried herself against his chest. He wrapped both arms around her and held her close, breathing in her scent.

“Pisses me off that you’ll wear those bruises for several more days. I don’t like seeing them, but more than me not liking to see them is
you
having to see them and remember him hurting you.”

“I’m okay,” she said against his chest.

“You’re not. Yet. But you will be,” he promised. “Give me that, Josie. Give me the chance to show you that we’re right together. I get that you’re gun-shy right now and that you’re doubting yourself, but give yourself into my care. Give me that chance. You won’t regret it.”

She was silent for a long moment, one that had him on edge as he waited for her acceptance.

Then she gave it. One simple word, laced with uncertainty but quiet determination.

“Okay.”

His own chest caved in a bit. He breathed in and out for several seconds before squeezing her to him.

“Sleep now, Josie. Tomorrow we’ll decide what to do about your apartment.”

He held her just as he was doing until her body went lax against his and the soft, even sounds of her breathing filled his ears. And still he waited, tense, replaying every word she’d said earlier. The fear in her voice. The self-condemnation. The image of her lying on the floor, Michael standing over her while he hurt her made it impossible for him to sleep.

It was well past midnight when he quietly picked up his cell phone from the nightstand and punched Jace’s number from his contacts list.

“What the hell?” his friend mumbled into the phone. “This better be good, Ash.”

“I need an alibi,” Ash said.

There was a long silence.

“Jesus. Fuck! What the hell, man? Do you need help? What’s going on?”

Ash glanced down at Josie, her eyelashes resting on her cheeks, the shadow of a bruise still on her face.

“Not now. But soon. Right now Josie needs me. She needs comfort and peace. And she needs to know that I will never hurt her. For now, I’m going to spend every minute making sure she knows this. But then I’m going after the bastard who put these bruises on her face and I’ll need you to help provide an alibi if it becomes necessary.”

“Christ, Ash. What the fuck? Someone hurt Josie?”

“Yeah,” Ash bit out. “And I’m going to make sure he never touches her or any woman ever again.”

Jace blew out his breath over the phone as he grew quiet.

“Whatever you need, man. You have it. Never have to ask.”

“Thanks, man,” Ash murmured. “Talk to you later.”

chapter twelve

Josie stirred and tried to stretch but immediately ran into a hard body. Her eyes flew open and she blinked rapidly as confusion ran through her mind. Then she remembered. She was in bed with Ash. In Ash’s apartment. In his arms.

Her gaze met the hard wall of his chest, saw the rise and fall of that beautiful male flesh. She inhaled, savoring his smell. Her lips were so close that she could easily press her mouth to his skin. And she was tempted.

But they weren’t lovers waking up after a night making love. They hadn’t had sex at all. Yet. They didn’t know each other at all beyond a few pleasantries and one conversation over dinner.

And yet she was here in his bed after agreeing to move in with him.

She closed her eyes and wondered again if she was making the right decision. Her mind and heart argued incessantly, and she still wasn’t sure who was the clear winner. Maybe there wasn’t one. She was going to have to wing this, because there was no clear and easy “right” decision.

Hesitantly, she lifted her gaze, holding her breath as she looked up to see if he was awake. Her eyes met his and she felt the jolt all the way to her toes. He was definitely awake and he was staring intently at her. As if he could reach in and pluck her thoughts right from her head.

“Good morning,” he murmured.

She dipped her head as heat crept over her cheeks.

“Josie?”

She glanced back up to see the question in his eyes.

“What’s wrong?” he asked gently.

She swallowed. “This is hard.”

He slid his hand up her body, over her arm and then up to tangle in her hair before brushing his fingers over the curve of her cheek.

“Never said it would be easy. Nothing good ever is.”

That was true enough. And no, Ash would definitely never be easy. Nothing about him was simple or uncomplicated.

“Like waking up, you in my arms.”

The statement rumbled from his chest and warmth seeped into her blood, traveling through her body.

“I liked it too,” she whispered.

“Want you to feel safe here,” Ash said in a serious tone. “Safe with me.”

“I do.”

“Good. Now give me your mouth so I can tell you good morning properly.”

She tilted her chin upward and placed her hand against his chest. He flinched beneath her touch, his muscles tight and quivering. She withdrew hastily, but he caught her hand and guided it back to his chest.

“Like you touching me,” he murmured. “I’ll want it often. Just like I’ll be wanting to touch you anytime you’re near me. If we’re in the same room, Josie, I’m going to be touching you.”

And then he kissed her, his warm, sensual mouth working exquisitely over hers.

It was gentle. Undemanding. Coaxing, almost.

She sighed into his mouth and relaxed, going limp against him, trapping her hand between their bodies.

“Been waiting for this,” he murmured. “You in my bed. Your mouth on mine. You the very first thing I taste in the morning. The last week has driven me crazy, Josie. Waiting for you. For this. And I finally have it. I’m not letting it go.”

“I’ve been waiting too,” she admitted. And she had. She’d dreamed about it. Wondered how it would feel. And now she knew. It felt . . . right.

Her earlier worries evaporated. Her questions. Her fears. The idea that she was making the wrong decision. They were gone in a perfect moment of absolute rightness. This was what she wanted. What he could give her. And she wasn’t going to fight it or herself any longer.

He rolled her onto her back, coming up and over her, his body looming big and strong. He kissed her again, deepening it this time. Allowing his urgency to bleed into her mouth.

His lips moved strongly over hers, demanding, taking. He stole her breath. She couldn’t breathe because he didn’t let her.

“I was determined to wait. To be patient,” he rasped out. “Can’t do it, Josie. I have to have you now. Tell me you’re with me. You have to be with me. I can’t be the only one feeling like I’m going to die if I don’t get inside you.”

His impassioned words cut to her core. She arched into him, inviting him without words. But he stopped, his eyes boring intently into hers. He wanted the words. He demanded them.

“Tell me,” he demanded. “Tell me you’re with me, Josie. I want to hear you say it so there’s no doubt that this is what you want. As much as I want you, as much as I have to have you, if you’re not with me, this stops now.”

“I’m with you,” she said breathlessly, her heart surging, adrenaline spiking through her veins.

“Thank fuck,” he breathed.

He kissed her again, as if he couldn’t stand to have his mouth away from hers for even a moment. Then he reluctantly dragged his head away, his eyes brimming with lust and arousal.