Page 28 of Beautiful Trauma (The Irish Rogues #5)

W hen I got to the gallery, I found my assistant, Zara, had things running smoothly.

Since she was a civilian, I’d only told her my brother had been in a car accident.

Of course, when she inquired about sending flowers or bringing me food, my phone had dropped the call.

I couldn’t possibly explain to her that my brother was in a trauma-level hospital, but it was in our basement.

“I know I’ve been out of pocket, so thank you for keeping things going,” I said.

“Of course.” Tilting her head at me, she asked, “Are you sure you’re up to being here today?”

Since I’d stopped at the house to shower and change, I knew her concern was about the dark circles under my eyes and the strain in my expression and not because I looked like I’d been sleeping in a chair beside my brother’s bed.

Nodding, I replied, “I needed an escape.”

“That’s understandable.”

The last thing I wanted was someone hovering, so I said, “I know it’s been a lot, so why don’t you take off the rest of the afternoon?”

Her brows furrowed. “Are you sure? Don’t you have that new collection to deal with?”

At her reference to Brian’s fake collection, a shudder went through me. I swallowed hard as I tried finding my voice. “Unfortunately, the Dublin collection didn’t pan out as I’d hoped.”

“Oh no,” Zara lamented.

With a shrug, I replied, “I should’ve known it was too good to be true.”

She shook her head. “They owe you for dragging you so far to waste your time.”

At the thought of Brian and Cian’s hands tearing the clothes from my body, I whispered, “Yes, they do.”

My pain must’ve been visible because Zara frowned as she nibbled on her lip. “You know, I really don’t mind staying with you.”

“No. I’ll be fine.”

“Okay. Call me if you need me.”

“I will.”

Once I was alone again, I exhaled a relieved breath. As I took a seat at the stool at the counter, I began to go over the receipts from the last few days. When the bell tinkled over the door, I jerked my gaze up from the books.

Every molecule in my body shuddered to a stop at the sight of Kellan before me. I stumbled off the stool, causing it to clatter to the floor.

“What are you doing here?” I demanded.

“I needed to see you.”

“I told you to forget me.”

He shook his head. “You know you’re unforgettable for me.”

Oh God, why did he have to come here? Why did he have to say things to me that no man had ever said? Why did he have to keep fighting for me when no man ever had?

I was too weak to keep my resolve for long.

Pinching my eyes shut, I buried my head in my hands. “Go away!”

“I can’t, and I won’t.”

Kellan appeared at my side then. Gently, he pulled my hands away from my face. “Look at me,” he commanded.

Keeping my eyes shut tight, I snapped, “No!”

“Why can’t you look at me?”

“If I do, my resolve will fold, and I’ll be lost.”

“And I’ll find you.”

As the tears streamed down my cheeks, Kellan’s breath warmed the shell of my ear. “I’m so fucking sorry about Dima. I’d give anything if I had forgotten my pride and just stayed on board the plane. Then he wouldn’t have been hurt, and nothing would’ve changed between us.”

“There is no us,” I protested feebly.

“There is. It’s a faint flame right now, but it’s still burning. And I won’t let you put it out when you’re scared and hurt. Give me a chance to see you through this.”

My eyes popped open as I pulled back to stare at him. “My father tried to choke me to death when he learned what had happened to Dima.”

Horror ricocheted through Kellan’s face. “Jayus, Mary, and Joseph, Mila,” he murmured.

“He will always blame me for what happened.”

“It’s not your fault,” Kellan said determinedly.

“It doesn’t matter. He’ll always see it that way.” With a mirthless laugh, I said, “Don’t you see? My days are numbered, and I won’t take you out with me.”

“Is that why you pushed me away?”

“It’s part of it.”

“Mila, you can walk away from him right now and come to my world. I’ll protect you.”

“No. You can’t. So just go.”

Kellan brought his hands to cradle my face. “I’m not going anywhere. Not right now. Not ever.”

“But–”

“I won’t let your father hurt you. You are worth saving time and time again, Mila.” When I opened my mouth to protest, he slanted his lips against my own.

At the taste of him, I moaned into his mouth. His thick thighs pinned me against the wall as his mouth overwhelmed me. My body melted against his.

Reaching behind him, I dug my fingers into the flesh at his shoulders. He ravaged my mouth with his own.

Nipping.

Sucking.

Licking.

As he devoured me, he didn’t leave me ravaged.

Instead, he poured his strength and his compassion into me.

It felt like all the broken cracks began to fill.

The pain that had been wrapped so tightly around me began to evaporate.

And the storm that raged so violently within me since Dima had been shot began to dissipate.

Kellan was my healing.

With tears streaming down my cheeks, I pulled back to catch my breath. Our chests rose and fell with harsh pants as we stared into each other’s eyes.

“Don’t let me go, Kellan,” I pleaded.

“I won’t.”

As my hand slid down his chest to his waistband, Kellan froze. “I need you.” Ever the gentleman, he started to protest, but I silenced him by leaning my forehead against his. “Heal me with your hands and your lips and your cock. I need to be physically connected with you.”

“As if I could say no to that,” he growled. Jerking his chin at the door, he said, “Lock up. I am not doing this with an audience.”

I welcomed the laugh that tumbled from my lips. “Somehow that doesn’t surprise me.”