Page 21 of Irresistibly Wicked

She took a deep, calming breath and opened the door, hiding half of her body behind it. “Zander, hi. I wasn’t expecting you.”

“I wanted to come by and…” His brows slanted, his smile morphing to a clenched jaw, his eyes locked on her arm. “Who did that to you?”

She followed his gaze to an angry bruise on her arm and swallowed hard, averting her eyes. She’d been so upset, she hadn’t even registered the tenderness in her arms where Brian had grabbed her, but now she remembered flinching in the shower as she’d washed them.

“No one. It must’ve happened when…” She heard herself lying, and stopped. That was how she’d ended up in this predicament. She couldn’t, shouldn’t, do it anymore.

“Shauna.” He stepped closer. “Who hurt you?”

Emotions thickened her throat as she met his gaze, and she was hit with another wave of guilt as she said, “Brian.”

His chest expanded with a deep inhalation, his nostrils flaring, his jaw tightening. “Where is he?”

She shrugged. “Not here.”

“Go get dressed. You’re coming home with me.”

“What? Why?” Was he serious? This man she barely knew? The guy who unknowingly changed my life once before? That sobering thought gave her pause. She hadn’t known him then, but had trusted him enough to get into his car, drunk, and tell him where she lived.

“Because no man should ever put their hands on you like that, and I’m not leaving you here for him to do it again.” His tone carried no pity or judgment, only steady, caring insistence, and that, too, rattled her.

“Zander—”

“You’re safe with me, Shauna.” His voice was low and reassuring, but firm. “I have an extra bedroom. I promise I won’t touch you. But if you don’t trust me, then I’ll take you to a hotel, or you can stay at the firehouse. Or if you want to stay here, I’ll sit my ass down on your front porch and stand guard, but I am not leaving you here alone.”

A lump lodged in her throat. The fighter in her who had made it this far wanted to say no, to prove she was strong and could handle whatever came her way. But as she stood there looking at Zander, she knew in her heart that she could trust him, and something about that made the tension she’d carried every minute of every day for as long as she could remember unfurl. She’d been strong for so long, fighting for survival, then for sobriety and to make something of herself, and more recently, she’d been fighting for her and Brian. She was wrung out, utterly and completely spent, and she knew she wouldn’t sleep well there, whether or not Zander was standing guard out front. Just this once, she didn’t want to be strong.

It took everything she had left to say “Okay” and step back, allowing him to come inside.

His gaze swept over her, moving from one arm to the other as she closed the door, fury rising in his eyes. “Jesus,” he whispered. His gaze dropped to an old bruise on her forearm.

“That one’s from pole class,” she managed.

“Shauna,” he warned.

“I promise. I get them all the time on my arms and legs,” she said shakily.

His arms circled her, embracing her so gently, she knew he was giving her a chance to step back. But she didn’t. She pressed her cheek to his chest, soaking in his comfort, and the dam broke, tears flooding down her cheeks. He held her a little tighter, his hand moving soothingly up her back. She inhaled sharply when he touched the sore spot where she’d hit the picture frame.

He gently shifted them, keeping her tucked against him with one arm, and moved the towel a little lower on her back. His body went rigid, every muscle flexing. She closed her eyes, emotions swamping her anew, but then his arms were around her again, holding her more carefully.

“Never again,” he said gruffly, and pressed a kiss to the top of her head, causing another deluge of tears.

Chapter Ten

ZANDER STOOD BY the stove in his partially renovated kitchen, stirring a pot of pasta. Meatballs bobbed in the sauce simmering on another burner, and the oven was preheating. He set the spoon down and began slathering garlic butter onto thick slices of French bread. He’d needed something to slow his spinning thoughts, and with Shauna sleeping, he couldn’t very well work on his renovations.

When he’d seen her, puffy-eyed, wet hair sticking to her face and shoulders, and those damn bruises on her arm, his protective urges had ignited, hot, sharp, and biting. She hadn’t shared the details of what went down with Brian yet, but there was plenty of time for that. When they’d gotten to his place, she’d looked like she barely had the energy to remain upright. He’d shown her the extra bedroom and had suggested she rest for a while. She’d said she was fine, which he’d expected to hear. She was so fucking strong, and with the little he knew about her, it was no wonder. It probably didn’t help that the beachfront cottage he’d bought to flip looked like a construction zone. It was a work in progress, the two bedrooms and bathroom the only finished spaces. The living room and dining room were stripped to bare studs. Drywall was up in the kitchen, but it hadn’t been painted, and there were no doors on the cabinets and no backsplash above the counters.

He’d given Shauna a gentle nudge toward resting, saying he had things to do. He didn’t mention those things were not working on the cottage but trying to quell the urge to hunt Brian down and fuck him up for putting his hands on her.

She’d finally agreed to rest, and he’d seen a flicker of relief in her eyes, as if she’d desperately needed someone to give her permission to let her guard down. When she’d disappeared behind the bedroom door, he’d heard the turn of the lock and wondered if she ever had a chance to let down her defenses.

That was three hours ago. He’d spent that time bracing to tiptoe through an emotional minefield. He wasn’t great at that. When his younger sister, Madigan, was upset, his blunt advice and suggestions weren’t always appreciated, but when Gunner’s wife, Sid, had been wrestling with her feelings for Gunner before they got together, she’d said Zander was a big help, so maybe he didn’t totally suck at it.

As he put the tray of bread in the oven, Kitty, his fluffy gray cat, wound between his feet and meowed. She’d been wearing a path between Shauna’s closed bedroom door and Zander since they got there, meowing like she was trying to tell him something. He lifted her into his arms and nuzzled against her fur. “I know, baby girl. You’re not used to having other females in the house, but she’s a special one, and she needs a safe place.”

Kitty purred.