Page 190 of Savage Hearts

From the first moment I saw her, I wanted to protect her. To keep her safe. I was drawn to her before I knew a single thing about her, and now she’s in my bed, suffering from a bullet wound that still might end her life, and I’m sitting in this chair across from her struggling with my feelings.

Feelings!What has shedoneto me?

Those sweet brown eyes might have something to do with it. So might that stubborn streak. That she looks like a mouse but stands her ground like a Rottweiler is oddly compelling.

And she thanks me for everything. She even thanked me for not killing her!

Most inexplicable of all… she’s attracted to me.

She responded when I kissed her at the safe house. Arched into me with a small moan of pleasure, dug her fingernails into my skin, and pressed her breasts against my chest. Then today, when I took my shirt off because it was covered in blood, her eyes bulged and her face turned red as she examined my body.

It was obvious that blush wasn’t from disgust.

And let’s not forget that when I asked her why she took a bullet for me, she replied, “Because I didn’t want you to die.”

There’s definitely something wrong with her head.

Maybe if I keep telling myself that, it will ease the strange ache in my chest.

She emits a soft cry, yanking me from the chaos of my thoughts. I frown, studying her pale face in concern, until she suddenly jerks upright, screaming.

I’m across the room and pulling her into my arms before mybrain registers what I’m doing. “It’s okay,” I murmur. “You’re safe. I’m here.”

Trembling, she clings to me and hides her face in my chest. I rock her and reassure her that I’ll never let any harm come to her. That I’ll always be watching over her, protecting her, even when she doesn’t know I’m there.

I say all that in Russian because it doesn’t make any sense that I should feel protective of someone who’s supposed to be my enemy. I wouldn’t know how to explain if she asked me why. But she needs some kind of reassurance to stop all this shaking and gasping, so I try to provide it. In English this time.

“Next time you have a nightmare, remind yourself that you’re dreaming. It’s not real. Then tell yourself to wake up.”

“That makes no sense,” she says crossly. “How can I tell myself anything if I’m asleep?”

I should have known she’d be argumentative. Riley loves nothing more than to challenge me, even straight out of a nightmare. That tongue of hers is honed as sharp as a knife.

It’s a good thing she’s not looking at my face or I’d have to hide this smile.

“Your subconscious will remember I told you. From now on, you’ll be able to wake yourself up from a bad dream. It won’t stop you from having them, but it will help.”

She’s quiet for a moment, no doubt thinking of some snappy comeback to take me down a notch. Before she can, I tell her I’m going to run a bath.

“Didn’t you just take a shower?”

“It’s not for me. It’s for you.” I pull away and smooth a hand over her tangled hair, forcing my face to remain expressionless so she won’t guess how badly I want to kiss her. Just to make sure that doesn’t happen, I add, “You stink.”

Her look could melt steel. “That issonot helpful.”

“Helpful or not, it’s the truth.”

It isn’t, but I’m not telling her that I think she smells like what heaven must smell like because I’m being ridiculous enough as it is.

“Drink some water.”

I take the glass from the nightstand, hand it to her, and watch carefully as she gulps the water down. When the urge to pull her into my arms again gets too strong, I stand and go into the bathroom, where I take a moment to steady myself before turning on the faucets in the bathtub. I test the temperature until it’s just right, then plug the drain and return to the bedroom.

Riley is sitting where I left her in bed, but now she has her glasses on and is staring in dissatisfaction at the wall above my head. She points to it.

“Wasn’t there a moose there?”

“No.”