The second the bath filled, he tipped his head toward the tub. “Get in and relax.”
For an uneasy second, I stared at his face, willing him to see me…really see me. I wanted him to tell me he still loved me. I wanted him to promise me we’d have a family and grow old together. Words circled the tip of my tongue like marbles, but nothing came out. I didn’t know where to start.
He sighed heavily and combed his hands through his inky hair. My gaze fixated on the slight tremor. It was the only indication he still cared. Any sane girl would have run away a long time ago. But here I was, exposing myself to more heartache, praying he wouldn’t push me away again.
“Just leave it alone for tonight,” he whispered. “We’ll talk tomorrow. Just get in and let me take care of you. I need to take care of you.”
My shoulder muscles crawled up my neck. I wanted to talk to him. I needed to talk to him. Every passing second another emotional door slid shut between us. By tomorrow, I’d need a battering ram to get through to him. “Tell me what you’re thinking.”
“Please,” he whispered, briefly shuttering his eyes. “Don’t fight me on this.”
A weighty exhalation whistled through my lips, releasing hundreds of unsaid words. He was right. I was tired. I ached. My arm still throbbed.
Wordlessly, I slipped into the bathtub. A moan tumbled from my lips without my permission, and my eyes fluttered closed like butterfly wings. Steaming hot water lapped around my neck. God, this felt amazing. I could sit here for hours.
“Are you hungry?” he asked.
I rolled my head from side to side without opening my eyes. “No. Noah brought me a plate of food before I fell asleep.”
His feet shuffled on the tiles. “Good. A doctor will be here tomorrow to take a look at your injuries.” He cleared his throat. “And to do an ultrasound.”
My eyes cracked open, and I raised my injured arm out of the water. “My arm and hand are hurt, but other than that, I think I’ll be okay. The ultrasound can wait until we get home.”
“It’s already scheduled and I’m concerned about you. Both of you.”
“Okay.” I shrugged. “When are we flying home?”
For strangled beats, he stared blankly at the wall, the expression on his face tough to interpret.
“Ignacio’s jet will take you home the day after tomorrow.”
“I can’t wait to leave.” My eyes slid closed again. “Are you glad we’re done with this place?”
He kissed my forehead. “Dunk your head under the water,” he said, not answering my question. “Let me wash your hair.”
The bumps of my spine tapped against the acrylic tub as I plunged into the warm water. When I surfaced, Ryker squirted shampoo into his hand and massaged it into my scalp. Thirty seconds later, all my confusion melted away. I didn’t want to worry about tomorrow or next month. I wanted to enjoy this moment with him.
Cupping his hands together, he dribbled water over my head again and again until my hair was free of suds.
“Thanks,” I said.
“My pleasure. It’s the least I owe you.”
“You don’t owe me anything.”
“I do. This was my fault.”
Tears leaked from the corners of my eyes, silently trailing down my face. “I forgive you.”
He stared icily at the floor, looking stricken. “I wouldn’t blame you if you hated me.”
I traced the line of his jaw, and he inhaled sharply. The sides of his face hollowed, and his chiseled cheekbones stood out in sharp relief. His thick eyelashes sheltered his gray eyes. The symmetrical arch of his top lip begged to be kissed.
“Get in here with me,” I pleaded, unwilling to accept his need for distance any longer.
The corners of his lips curled upward, but he didn’t say anything. He dipped his bruised and battered hands into the water and curled them around the curved lip of the tub. “I don’t want to rush anything. We have time.”
Craving him, I chewed on my lower lip, and then I tugged on the collar of his shirt. “No. I need to be close to you right now.”
I needed to feel connected to him.
I needed to know the Alvarez Cartel hadn’t destroyed us.
I needed to feel his hands on me and wipe Enrique’s touch from my mind.
I wanted to be wanted.
I wanted to be normal.
Is that so bad?
Staring at me almost reverently with heavy eyelids, he rubbed his hands together. I wanted him so much that I stopped breathing for a suspended second. I was in agony. He groaned softly, gripping the edge of the tub. “Hattie, I don’t think—”
I shifted onto my knees and looped my arms around his neck. Rivulets of water streamed down my body. Goosebumps somersaulted down my arms. A mixture of desire and something indecipherable glowed in his eyes. Hypnotic lust wove through my veins.
“Don’t think, Ryker. Just kiss me. Make me forget. I need to forget, and you’re the only one who can help me do that.”
Chapter Twelve
Ryker
Everything moved in slow motion as Hattie’s body rose out of the water like Botticelli’s Birth of Venus. Like so many times since I first saw her, I struggled not to reach out and touch her.
The muted light of the bathroom highlighted her golden eyes. They glimmered like twin gemstones. Water dripped from the tips of her pink nipples. For a spine-tingling second, her unassuming seductive beauty immobilized me. She looked fragile with the faint bruise staining her cheek, but at the same time, I couldn’t remember a moment when I wanted her more. I never wanted to forget the love and trust vibrating from her when I finally destroyed us.
I shuddered the instant she wrapped her arms around me. The recriminations in my head quieted to a dull hum. I sucked in a breath, scrambling to find the will to stop this. All the reasons I needed to let her go floated through my mind, but like tendrils of smoke I couldn’t latch onto any of them. It all came down to one thing: I was bad for her. If I kept her in my life, the days she’d spent as a prisoner of the Alvarez Cartel would pale in comparison to a lifetime in the web of the Vargas Cartel.
I’d trade my soul to the devil to go back in time and change the way things unfolded, but it wasn’t possible. I had to make the best decision for Hattie based on the facts, and the best decision was to send her away. I needed to force her out of my life even if the thought alone cleaved my heart in two. I didn’t see any other way.
My fingers ghosted over the burn marks on her arm and her eyelids fluttered. “I don’t want to hurt you.” Her lips feathered across mine and electricity shot down my spine. I bit back a groan. Dammit, she was hard to refuse—more so now than the first time I met her. My need for her grew every day.
She rested her forehead against mine. “The only way you could hurt me is by leaving me,” she said, her eyes glistening.
My throat tightened at the soft tenor in her voice. My soul devoured her words even though she was wrong. Leaving her was the only way to stop the pain and prevent future heartache, but when she looked at me with love shining from her eyes, reality and desire blurred.
“Hattie,” I whispered, my voice like gravel on glass. It sounded like a benediction mixed with a curse. Half dark. Half light. It captured my character, my life, and my future perfectly.
She flicked open the buttons of my shirt, one after another, and pushed it off my shoulders. She licked her lower lip and my entire body trembled. I wanted her, but my desire for her didn’t stop the guilt from wrapping around my chest like a vice. I shouldn’t do this. I shouldn’t touch her, but with every brush of her fingertips, my resistance evaporated faster than rain on hot asphalt.
Her fingertips coasted over the rectangular bandage on my ribs. It concealed the knife wound inflicted by Enrique Alvarez.
“What happened?”
“A small cut,” I hissed as her hand pressed against the bandage. “Nothing you need to worry about. I’ll be fine.”