Page 37 of Malicious Marriage
But I can’t move.
It’s not fear that roots me to the spot, although anxiety does still churn my gut like a blender and has me sweating like I’m in a sauna.
It’s Dean.
His panting, aggressive stance is slowly starting to deplete but there isn’t a single thing that scares me about him. If anything, his aggressive, protective edge is incredibly captivating. With dark eyes, a trickle of blood down his temple, and his usually neat hair somewhat ruffled up from the scrap, he looks ten times more attractive than he did in the gala.
I can’t stop staring at him in silence as he walks toward me like some possessive giant that makes my heart race with alluring heat.
“Are you okay?” Despite the anger etched into the lines of his face, his voice is softer but still maintains a rough edge that makes my pulse skip.
I try to speak but words fail me. I’m certain if I try, then all that’s going to come out of me is a sob of fear at how quickly that descended into madness, or a moan at how attractive he looks right now. With Ryan long gone and Bobby taking care of him, he’s not a threat unless something terrible happens to Bobby, but in a place like this, I know he’s safe.
“Clover?” Dean’s warm, slightly trembling hand reaches out to me and he touches the top of my wrist. “Clover?”
The ragged concern in his voice finally spurs me into action and I take his hand in mine and force a watery smile. “I’m fine. Come on, let’s get you cleaned up.”
Dean’s grip is like iron in my hand but despite his strength, it’s not painful. As soon as we start walking, he becomes my shadow with his other arm snaking around my waist and keeping me pressed against his body while we hurry around the outskirts of the crowd and make it into the washroom before anyone notices.
I lock the door behind us so we’re not disturbed and when I turn back around, Dean is still right up in my space. The sweet peppermint of his scent makes my pulse skip another beat and I have to place my hand on his chest to force him backward a few steps.
“Really,” I say softly, unable to meet his eyes. “I’m okay.”
“Are you?” Dean barks out, but despite the sharpness of his words, there’s no aggressiveness. Only open concern. He grasps me by the shoulders and pulls me further into the washroom until I’m directly underneath the warm orange glow of the light.Then he cups my chin and tilts my head up. After a second, he turns my face from side to side and I’m forced to look into those sexy, dark eyes.
“I am,” I say, my voice more breathless than I anticipated. “I promise.”
“I saw him grab you and I just—” Dean cuts himself off as his attention drops down to my arm, and suddenly, he’s moving around me as if inspecting every inch for a hidden injury neither of us knows about. The intensity of his gaze sends hot, prickly warmth rushing down my arms and up my spine. “I’m sorry if I scared you.”
When he’s back in front of me, I grasp his arm to stop him moving and push him back toward the sink. “You didn’t scare me.”
“You look frightened.” Dean sounds sincerely pained by the notion and my chest tightens briefly.
“I was,” I reply as I lean around him and turn on the warm water. “But not of you.”
“Who was he?”
“He was telling the truth, as much as I hate to admit that.”
“He really is your ex?”
“Mmhmm.”
A deep, feral sound rumbles in Dean’s chest as he rubs one hand over his jaw. “Fucking asshole.”
“I’m so sorry.”
“For what?” In an instant, his voice softens. “Clover, you have nothing to apologize for.”
“Don’t I?” Wetting a paper towel with the warm water, I turn back to face Dean and he’s staring at me so intently that I suddenly feel incredibly exposed. Heat flushes up my neck and when I swallow, it’s like something is stuck in my throat.
“No,” Dean says firmly. “You really don’t.” His breath ghosts over my face with how close we still are, but we move as one.
Each time I lean away, he leans with me, but he doesn’t move away when I lean in close and place one hand on his abdomen for balance. Leaning up, a shiver of excitement rushes through me as his abdominal muscles flex under my fingers when he leans back against the sink.
“Let me,” I say quietly as instinct seems to make him shy away from my touch. After a second, he dips his head down and allows me easier access to the bleeding wound on his temple. “And I do. I’ve caused so much trouble tonight.”
Dean’s arm suddenly encircles my waist and he pulls me snug against his body. My heart rate jolts. While it’s clear he’s simply supporting my lean because of our height difference, my core clenches tightly and his arm radiates like a molten brand around my middle.