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But as I show her around my house, explaining the layout of the rooms and the amenities available to her, I see a glimmer of hope in her eyes. The weight of her past seems to lift ever so slightly, replaced by a flicker of optimism for the future.
“Lily,” I say softly, turning to face her. “I know this must all be overwhelming for you, but I want you to know that you’re not alone. You have my word that you’ll be safe here, that no harm will come to you while you’re under my protection.”
Her gaze meets mine, gratitude shining in those doe-like eyes of hers. “Thank you,” she whispers, her voice filled with emotion.
Happy to have her safe here at my house, pride fills me. She’s in need and I’m going to take care of her.
She thanks me again. “Thanks, Rockwell, but I can’t. I can’t live here with you.”
And she takes off running, bolting through the front door.
CHAPTER 7
Lily
It’s all too much. I run, like a fool, down the beautiful tree-lined streets, tears blurring my vision. I’ve suffered the breakup, the pregnancy scare, and the man in the black car circling my apartment, following me for days now, most likely wanting to collect my ex’s debts from me.
Sure, it’s great that this man wants to look after me, to keep me safe, but at what cost?
Am I to be indebted to him forever? Bound by some unspoken code of protection, forced to live under his watchful eye? To obey him or pay the price?
What happens in the Bachman family when they don’t want to be friendly anymore? What if I get on my feet and want to work somewhere else?
But I love that office, that lobby, his desk.
What if I’m risking it all by turning him down? The idea makes me shudder and to add to my confusion, a hint of curiosity creeps up in the back of my mind, wondering what else this man is capable of doing to my inexperienced body.
The hairs on my arms stand on end as a wave of unease drenched with desire washes over me. But as much as I try to push him away, there’s a part of me that can’t deny the comfort of his presence, the safety that radiates from him like a protective shield.
I reach a fork in the road, the cobblestones stretching out before me like a maze of uncertainty. Should I stay and accept his help, or should I make a run for it, try to find some break in these stone walls, escaping this suffocating bubble of protection he’s created around me? My heart pounds in my chest, torn between fear of his rules and consequences mingling with the desire for freedom and the craving for security.
Before I can decide, he catches up to me, his hand reaching out to grab me. His tight grip is jarring, possessive, his touch sending a jolt of raw sexual energy through me. He pulls me over to him, pressing my body against his. His face only a beat away from mine, he stares down at me, his blue eyes hard.
“Never, ever run from me. Especially after what you just told me about being in danger.”
Breathless, I demand, “Is that another one of your rules? Never run?”
“Yes.”
I stare up at him. “How do I know I’m not in more danger here in your arms?”
Our gazes lock, energy and tension passing between us.
People pass us, making their way down the sidewalk. I sense curious eyes on us, but I don’t care. I’ve already made a fool of myself by running through this quiet neighborhood.
He grips my ass in his hands.
Heat flows to my face as I try to push his hands away. “Stop! There are people everywhere.”
“And none of them will pay you a bit of attention. There’s nothing I can do to you they haven’t seen before.”
“What do you mean?” I ask, but before he can answer, he’s tightening his hold on my backside, squeezing so hard I’m shooting up on the balls of my feet. “Oh! God. Stop!”
Holding my ass tight, he thrusts my pelvis against him so I can feel his hardness growing against the softness of my belly.
“You love this, don’t you?” I gasp. “Being in control.”
“Yes, I do.” He cups the back of my head, gripping my hair in his fingers. “I love being in control. I love being a protector, defender. Judging by the current status of your life, I get the feeling you need someone like that in your corner. You need a Bachman man to look after you.”
