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“We don’t know.” James shook his head, shoving his hands in his pants pockets and staring back at him somberly. “We just don’t know, Sax. The police found a note, signed with your name, asking her to join you in that room. Her screams alerted a couple in the next room who called the cops. When they found her, she was unconscious. I think he meant to kill her.”

And blame Sax for the crime. Son of a bitch. He ran his hand over his shaved head and breathed out roughly.

“I have to make sure she’s okay,” he said roughly, his throat clogging with pain at the thought of what had been done to her. “I have to see her.”

“I knew you would.” James nodded slowly. “When she woke up, and Terrie explained what happened, she was horrified. She called the police herself. But she hasn’t said much since. She knows you’re coming.”

Sax nodded then reached for the doorknob. He turned it slowly, pushing the door open and stepped inside quietly.

Terrie, James’ sister-in-law, came to her feet, her face still damp, her eyes red-rimmed as she stared back at him.

“Come on in,” she whispered, glancing at the sheet-draped bed that Sax could only glimpse the bottom of. “She’s resting. For now.”

Sax entered the room, moving slowly as he passed the bed.

“I’ll be outside.” She patted Sax on the arm gently as she passed him.

As the door closed, he turned, swallowing tightly before allowing himself to see the damage done.

God help the bastard, he thought when he saw her face, because he was going to kill him. Her face was horribly bruised, her eyes and lips swollen. Sax prayed that Vince Clayton wouldn’t manage to get out of jail, because if he did, he was a dead man.

Her soft, pale blonde hair framed her face—a face he knew was softly rounded, inquisitive, stubborn.

“Looks bad, huh?” Her voice was raspy, groggy as she opened her eyes, the soft gray barely visible through the swollen lids.

It was all he could do to restrain himself, to hold back. He wanted to pull her into his arms, hold her against his chest and swear he would never let it happen again. That he would protect her, keep her safe. But he was smart enough to know she would never accept it.

“I’ll kill him, Marey.” He pushed his hands in his pockets, his fists clenching as rage ate through him. “I swear I’ll kill the bastard.”

Her breathing hitched as she grimaced painfully.

“It was my fault.” Tears clogged her voice then. “I should have known better.” A bitter laugh escaped her throat. “It was stupid of me not to check with you.”

He moved to the side of the bed, his chest tightening with emotion. He couldn’t believe this had happened, couldn’t conceive that anyone would do this to her.

He sat down slowly in the chair beside her, shrugging off his suit jacket and flexing his shoulders as he sighed wearily.

“I’ve considered it a time or two,” he finally admitted with a grimace. “Actually, kidnapping you and tying you to my bed for a week was my favorite fantasy.”

A short, groggy little laugh left her throat. “Trojans and their whips and chains,” she said with a little sigh.

He picked up her hand, noticing the flinch as he did so. It wasn’t from pain.

“Don’t.” She pulled back from him, swallowing tightly. “I’m sorry about what happened. I’m just sorry. But I can’t—”

“You came to that motel thinking I would be there,” he said gently, staring down at the soft creamy flesh he gripped in his much darker hand. “I wouldn’t have expected that, or I would have had you years ago. You can’t back out now.”

“I already have.” Despite the drugs and the pain, her voice was firm.

“You might think you have.” He picked up her hand again, his fingers holding it in place as she stared at where they met. “But Marey, I can be relentless. I won’t let you go now, not knowing this.”

Panic flared in her eyes.

“And he will never hurt you again.” He leaned close, staring back at her intently, determination thundering through him. “Do you hear me? The bastard will never touch you again, because to do so, he will have to go through me. You’re mine, and when you get out of here, I intend to claim what belongs to me, Marey. Every sweet beautiful inch of you. Mine.”

1

One Month Later

“What are you doing here?” Marey leaned against the doorframe, staring up at Sax as he stood on the stoop, looking too damned sexy, too tempting for so early in the morning. “This habit of yours is getting on my nerves, Sax. This is too early in the morning to be out of the bed.”

In the past four weeks, if he had missed half a dozen mornings showing up for coffee and trying to wheedle breakfast out of her, then it would surprise her. And he was getting bolder. Touching her as she moved around the kitchen, stealing kisses when she couldn’t avoid him, laughing at her irate expressions and teasing her when the morning grumpiness got the best of her.

“You should be used to it by now.” His teeth flashed in a smile that made her pussy weep in loneliness as he stepped into the house, pulling the door from her grip and closing it softly.

He was going to drive her to an asylum before it was over with. The man was like an unstoppable force once he got something in his head, and since her attack, he had appointed himself her personal bodyguard whenever he deemed it necessary.

She sighed wearily. She was exhausted. Sleep was a thing of the past and paranoia whipped through the night like the rattle of ghostly chains.

“Vince call?” he asked as he moved into the kitchen, heading straight for the automatic coffeepot. She had learned to time it for his visits.

She stood still as the question filtered through her morning grogginess, holding her still in shock.

“How did you know he was released?” She frowned in irritation as she followed him. “And since when did you decide to just make yourself at home here?”

He pulled one of the mugs from a hook under the cabinet and poured the coffee with the ease of a man comfortable in his surroundings.

“Stop trying to sidetrack the conversation,” he retorted calmly. “Why didn’t you tell me when you found out he was released? It’s been a week.”

She pushed her hands deep into the pockets of her baggy flannel pajama bottoms and hunched her shoulders defensively.

“Because it was none of your business?” she suggested mockingly. “I didn’t make his bail for him and I’m not taking his calls. There’s nothing else I can do until the court date.”

“He’s been calling?” The cup lowered back to the counter as his voice lowered dangerously.

Hell. It was too damned early to deal with this crap.

“A few times,” she answered waspishly. “Let it go, Sax. You’re not my father or my husband.”

His eyes narrowed. The deep chocolate depths of his gaze sent a shiver of sensation through her. So far, he had been gentleness itself as she healed from Vince’s attack. He hadn’t really pushed her for anything other than breakfast, and though his sexuality was always present, he kept it reined in for the most part. She had a feeling, based on that look, it wouldn’t last for long.

“I’m not going to sit idly by while he beats the hell out of you again, either,” he informed her, his voice cold, his expression shuttered as he watched her. “And look at you, you aren’t even sleeping anymore. Do you think I don’t know what those shadows under your eyes mean, Marey? Why are you being so stubborn?”

She breathed out roughly as she stalked to the coffeepot herself. No one should have to deal with this without that first cup of coffee.

“Don’t start again, Sax,” she snapped. “I’m not moving in with you. It’s not happening, no way, no how.”

Especially not now. She poured her coffee, reining in her own fury at the circumstances. To be honest, she had been giving in, considering the offer he had made after she came out of the hospital, tempted by the hot looks, the promise of passion and heat in his eyes. Vince’s release from jail had canceled even the consideration of such a move. There was no way she would dare to push him that far now. The instability she only glimpsed during their marriage had become terrifying.