Page 122 of Falling for the Enemy

Jesus, she was a mess. “It’s okay.” His lips pressed into her hair as he held her close. Her entire body was shaking like a leaf. “I’m not going anywhere.”

She continued to sputter apologies, rambling about being crazy. She wouldn’t stop until he assured her there was nothing to be sorry about. “We’re fine. It’s okay.”

“It’s not okay. I freaked out. I didn’t mean any of it. I never meant to… I’m sorry.”

His arms tightened around her, the knot in his chest loosening as relief flooded in. He kissed her temple. “It’s okay, Joce. I forgive you.”

“Sometimes I get crazy.”

“I know. I’m used to your crazy.”

She sniffled. “I don’t even know what I said.”

“It doesn’t matter.” It only mattered that she was there, in his arms where she belonged.

As she tried to breathe, she continued to tremble with adrenaline. He dragged a soothing hand down her back, hating how upset she’d made herself.

“Shh. Take a breath.”

The jagged, wet sound that came out of her split him in two. As if compelled to keep talking, she looked up at him with a tear-streaked face and opened her mouth, but the words seemed trapped in her throat.

“It’s okay. You don’t have to say anything else.”

Relief flashed in her eyes. She nestled closer to him, her arms tightening around his ribs with such fierceness he couldn’t draw a full breath.

He’d never seen her this way, so fragile and scared. Didn’t she know she’d have to do more than throw him out to ever get him to willingly walk away for good?

“You can’t get rid of me that easily.”

“Promise?” she murmured, words muffled in his now damp shirt.

“Promise.”

She looked up at him. Her lips pressed into a trembling line as a fresh flood of tears filled her eyes.

“Just…please don’t cry anymore.”

She blinked back her tears and hugged him tighter, pressing her ear to his chest, her grip now tight enough to break a rib.

He took it. He’d take almost anything from her as long as she let him. It was a frightening realization that told him more about himself than he was ready to admit.

After several minutes, her breathing finally calmed, and he softly suggested, “Come inside.”

Once in the den, he used a wet hand towel from the powder room to clean up her face. She was so wrung out from crying, she let him.

After he wiped the smudges from under her eyes, he dabbed her rosy nose. “Blow.”

She shook her head. “Not on the branded bath towels.”

He laughed. “I don’t care about the towels. I care about you.” Her chin trembled as she smiled, then he said, “No, no. No more tears.”

“Sorry.” She reached past him and snatched a tissue from the box on the table and blew her nose with enough gusto to be mistaken for an elephant stampede.

“Good girl.” He took the crumpled tissue and set it aside with the hand towel then he pulled her into his side. “Feel better now?”

She nestled into the crook of his arm and nodded. “I warned you not to be nice to me.”

What kind of villain did it make him that he found it incredibly sexy when she blinked up at him with those big, glassy brown eyes, her lashes damp and spiked from crying.