Falling for the Beast (A Modern Fairy Tale Duet 2)

He felt relief that both of them were in Sofia’s home, sleeping.

Erin had given him a list of low cholesterol meats and whole grains to replace the cheap noodle packs and high-sodium soups currently stocking the kitchen. With little money and even less time to cook, Erin’s mother had a pantry full of high-sodium foods. That had to change now, and it would, especially with Erin there to cook for the next couple of weeks.

They hadn’t discussed beyond that yet.

Had she ever planned to return to Tanglewood permanently? If so, no wonder she’d been uncertain when he’d asked her to move in with him. She might have planned to move into this ramshackle apartment with her mother, to get a job in this small town.

What if she still wanted that?

He let himself into the back door using the key Erin gave him.

The upstairs was still quiet, so he set about putting the food away. Despite the dinner hour, he suspected the two women would sleep through the night, which would probably do them more good than a bite of food. He himself was bone-tired and chugged down a glass of water before climbing the stairs.

He took a pit stop for a hot shower in the hallway bathroom, dressing in a fresh T-shirt and sweatpants he’d packed in a backpack shortly after hearing her voicemails.

He already knew which was the master bedroom from when he’d gotten Sofia’s clothes while she was still in the hospital. And he knew which room was Erin’s. The door was closed. That was probably a sign that he wasn’t allowed inside. They hadn’t discussed where he would sleep. There wasn’t a guest room, but there was a couch in the living room.

A gentleman would take the couch.

Blake wasn’t a gentleman. Maybe he had been, once. That had changed when the IED blasted away half his face. He became something different, more animal. And he had been kept away from his mate for too long.

He opened the door.

Erin was sprawled on the bed, naked. God. Almost naked. Above the hem of the sheet, he could see the beige tone of her panties. Her breasts were small and pink-tipped in the dim light. Her jeans and T-shirt lay in a pile beside the bed. His chest swelled with tenderness. She must have dropped into bed, too tired even to change into pajamas.

Stripping down to his boxers, he climbed in behind her.

Her hair fanned across her pillow, reflecting the dim light like a still lake at midnight. Her even breathing was too quiet to hear—and yet he felt each soft exhale in his soul. Pale lashes fluttered against her cheeks as she dreamt. She was, in all ways, the epitome of peace. The opposite of him in every way. A balm to his battered soul.

When he’d first met her, he’d been sure he never deserved contentedness. He was too broken, too shameful, too horrified by what had been done to him and what he’d done in return.

On the day before they’d been rescued, Joe had stopped responding to external stimuli completely. Blake had kept his hand on Joe’s wrist, feeling the weak pulse and waiting for them both to die.

When the SEAL team had shown up, mayhem had ensued. A saner man would have lain low until they had neutralized the threat. But Blake was out of his mind with grief and pain. He’d gotten hold of a gun and shot as many of his captors as he could find, until an American soldier had disarmed him.

How could he come back from that? He couldn’t.

Survival. That’s all he had ahead of him. Nights filled with pain from skin he no longer had. It burned again and again, despite the grafts and the medicine. Despite the months.

He’d never planned to recover, but the damned doctors were persistent. They’d pounded away with their surgical meat tenderizers until his body was functional again, but it had taken Erin to revive his heart. She’d done more than that, she’d become his heart.

Wherever she went, whatever she felt.

It was lovely and excruciating.

The delicate base of her neck peeked from her outswept hair.

The line of her spine was sinuous as her body twisted in sleep. Shadows pooled at the base of her back where the sheet rucked against her skin. His fingers twitched to trace the soft muscles and gentle lines, but he didn’t want to wake her.

She stirred anyway, moving restlessly. Her face turned toward him, eyes still shut. He tried to soothe her before she came fully awake.

“I’m here. Just sleep.”

As her body turned over, soft breasts pressed against his arm and drew his low groan into the air. His body responded, cock thickening, heart pounding. He felt the same carnal urge to claim, to mate, to please her. But above that sang a new melody, one he recognized as ancient—the desire to care for her. To nourish her, body and soul. That secret wish had imbued his actions at the grocery store, feeding her. And now as he ignored the demands of his body to let her sleep. Small gestures for feelings that ran impossibly, unendingly deep.

She flung her leg over him. Her calf touched his erection, the throb of selfish male flesh, and she stilled, coming awake enough to realize his condition.

“Never mind,” he murmured. “We won’t do anything. Just rest.”