Page 57 of Chaos has a Name (An FBI Romance/Thriller #66)

The Cabin

The Master Suite

Wednesday

Four Thirty P.M.

One of the constants that had been in his life for many, many years, was the fact that Doctor Christopher Leonard was always responsible to triage and patch his wife back up after a disaster.

It was no longer surprising when he had to do it, but each time, it still made him upset.

How could it not?

Seeing her battered, bruised, and hurting was the one surefire way to make every male in the house irate and borderline bitchy.

It was a struggle not to take it out on her since they wanted to blame the victim for putting herself in harm’s way, or Ivan for dropping the ball.

Yeah, she gave them the warning before for a reason. Elizabeth knew exactly what they were like.

Seriously.

They were predictable.

Not only had this rubbed him raw, seeing her hurt, it was the way she had been hurt.

It was how she’d been taken.

Had she not been tenacious, tough, and stronger than anyone he knew, this wouldn’t have ended well. If his wife couldn’t get herself out of bad situations by using her wits and skill, this would be a nightmare for all of them.

Elizabeth was the easiest woman to love, once you managed to calm down the need to protect her. Smothering was something he wanted to do.

And she’d hate it.

So, instead, he did what he could.

Chris patched her up.

Now, she was sitting there, and he was swabbing and picking trace out of her hair, and off of her tank and jeans.

Oh, and the silence was very telling.

While he wasn’t trying to come across as being irate, he absolutely was as pissy as hell.

And she read the room.

“Are you angry at me?” she finally asked, sensing the tension and lack of conversation from the man.

Chris sighed as he was waiting for the numbing injection to kick in so he could drop a couple of stitches into her hairline where she’d been clocked.

“Not at you, Bethe. I’m just rattled by the situation. It was too close. We might have lost you, and we’re all worked up over that. Give us some time to adjust.”

She just sat there.

When he stared into her eyes, he saw it.

“You’re safe now.”

Still, she said nothing. So much for being comforted and leaning on one of her men. Chris was definitely not in the mood to hold her up.

It appeared she was swallowing the fear, and not going there with him.

“I’m about ready to stitch you up. Are you going to be okay?” he asked.

Elizabeth just nodded.

As he started, he watched the single tear fall, and it broke his heart in ways she’d never understand. At one point in his life, he’d given up on feeling this kind of love.

Oh, he’d loved Cyra, make no mistake about it, but he’d never been able to love her this deeply. At the time, his heart still belonged to Elizabeth.

Because of that, Chris knew that he would die for her.

In a heartbeat.

He’d lay down his life for this woman, and seeing her cry…it was brutal.

Getting through the three stitches, he tied off the suture, and gently kissed her boo-boo.

The whole time, he knew she was going to break. Elizabeth, if you knew her well enough, was predictable.

“I need to shower,” she whispered, when he was finally done.

Chris pulled out a needle and vial to show her.

“I need to get your blood before anything that might be in your system dissipates,” he said, hating that not only had someone hurt her, but that someone had probably drugged his wife.

The rage was…a lot.

Elizabeth was aware, and she didn’t argue with him. Instead, she nodded.

When he took a vial, he kept pressure with a little piece of gauze. The whole time, he knew what she needed.

Time.

And love.

Staring into her eyes, he was curious.

“Do you need me to hold you and take care of you, Elizabeth?” he asked.

At first, she was going to say no, but she really just wanted to be held. Her heart was still racing, and Elizabeth was feeling all kinds of spiraling about to go on.

She was a woman on the edge.

With a gun and free to protect herself, she was far less scared. Tied up and cut off from communicating…

That was terrifying.

So, she nodded, reaching out for someone to get her back on her feet.

Putting the vial down, Chris pulled off his shirt, and turned. When he opened his arms, she was in them so fast that he knew his wife was shaken.

Her mouth found his, and he gave her what she needed.

Tenderness.

Slowly, he reassured her with that mating of mouths that she would be okay.

In the end, they would persevere.

They always would.

Because that was the bottom line.

When he broke the kiss, he stared into her icy eyes, and knew that with time, she would be fine.

Elizabeth was the most tenacious person he’d ever met in his life. There were days she scared them stupid, and that was one of those days.

She began undressing, and he gave her the head start so that he could bag up her clothing. When she stepped into the steaming shower, Chris was not far behind her.

With love, he began washing her hair, getting the debris out of it so she could feel better again.

When she turned, he welcomed her into his body so that he could give her all she needed.

Stability.

His mouth controlled the pace, and the whole time, her hands were wrapped around his waist, clinging to him. There was no doubt she needed this.

Because he did too.

It reminded him of all of the times they’d made love after a rough moment.

The tenderness called to both of them, and it always would.

He plumbed the depths of her mouth, pulling a moan from her lips, and the whole time, he kept pouring more of himself into her.

Little by little, he helped her heal.

He helped himself heal.

“Elizabeth,” he whispered, as the steam surrounded them.

She held on, praying she could get through this without breaking.

What he didn’t know was that she was so damn close. What she wanted was to pack up her kids and family.

And go home.

Normally, she wasn’t a quitter, but she just didn’t have it in her. She just didn’t have any more fuel to keep her going. Between watching Ethan fall apart, finding out that Wyler was dying, and now her close call, Elizabeth had little to share.

She.

Was.

Done.

If something didn’t give, or if she got blindsided one more time, she was not going to bounce back.

The whole world felt way too heavy for her shoulders, and today was her breaking point.

“I love you,” Chris whispered, leaving nips and bites on her neck so she was focused on him, and nothing else.

As he shared pleasure, she opened herself up for it, needing something, anything, to refill that emptiness inside her.

“I need you,” she whispered.

Oh, he could tell.

Chris had been blessed to spend so many years by her side, and he knew when she was struggling. You didn’t love a strong woman and not know when she was off balance.

You didn’t spend day in and day out watching her fight for her life, battle for the weak, and to balance the scales of justice without seeing the effect it had on her.

Chris was worried about his wife, and more than just her physical injuries.

This was more.

He was worried about her mental injuries.

With gentle hands, he tenderly spread soap across her flesh, cleaning her, but also giving her mind something different to focus on.

Pleasure.

With her breathy gasps of enjoyment, he made sure to leave no place on her body untouched.

All he wanted to do was distract her enough so that she could heal in peace.

What wouldn’t he give his woman?

When her hands went into his hair, she found his mouth again. Everything dropped away, and all there was in that moment was them.

When she jumped up, wrapping her legs around his waist, he supported them. With his back to the wall, the temperature went up.

And they found peace.

It would only be momentary, but it was what they both needed.

Craved.

“Bethe,” he whispered, his body calling to hers. He was hard and craved his woman.

And he always would.

While they had opened their world up, letting others in, Chris knew that she was always and forever his. Their marriage license, thanks to Charlie, cemented them together.

Coming back here was difficult for all of them, and Chris struggled.

Here was where he had to watch her love someone else.

Here was where he had to move on, trying to forget that he was in love with her still.

Here was where he nearly lost his daughter, and lost Cyra.

Damascus broke a little piece of all of them—there was no doubt about that.

When she broke the kiss, she loosened up her grip on his body, and slid down his frame to her knees.

As he leaned against the wall, she took him into her mouth, and drove them closer to the edge.

There was no place he wanted to be than with her.

Ever.

Their open relationship worked because she was the core of their unit. It survived because each one of them loved her to the depths of their souls.

Elizabeth was their all.

From her place on the floor, she let the hot water caress her body, soothing all of the aches and pains. She also enjoyed sharing pleasure with Chris.

It helped her forget.

It helped her heal.

There was no place she’d rather be than with him, or Callen, or Ethan. They helped her forget that the world was a hard, cold place, and she was just one more pawn in Fate’s game.

As she blew him, his moans filled the enclosed space, and they were music to her ears. His reaction got her wet, and she knew that before they left this shower, he would refill her just enough for her to survive.

He was part of her heart, and Elizabeth’s treasure.

“God!” he muttered, his balls tightening as they took that moment to heal each other. “Sweetness, I’m off my game today. I’m not lasting long.”

That was good because she needed him to fill her. What she wanted was him buried in her body, taking her on that climb up the cliff so they could take that tumble together.

Like they always used to.

Scraping her teeth up his erection, he was now breathing heavily. When he pulled her up, he took a seat on the bench in the shower, and got his woman into position.