His low whisper positively purred. ‘You’re not running out on me again.’
CHAPTER ELEVEN
LIGHT blasted through the window and Nadia sighed, reluctantly admitting to consciousness—because now she had to face the music. She rolled over. He was awake, propped up on a pillow, book in hand—looking totally at home.
‘What are you reading?’ She tried to act normal, but her croaky voice let her down.
He showed her the cover. ‘Found it on your shelf. It’s quite good.’
Groaning, she reached down beside the bed for her phone. She had to check Megan and Sam’s arrival time. She was panicking that she had their arrival time wrong and it was a.m., not p.m. The last thing she wanted was for them to walk in on her and Ethan like this. Megan would read too much into it. Nadia was having a hard enough time stopping herself from doing that.
‘What are you doing?’ His voice had a slightly rough inflection too—so he wasn’t that engrossed in the book …
‘Updating my profile,’ she lied.
‘Of course you are,’ he said drily. ‘What are you saying?’
She tossed the phone away, satisfied her flatmate wouldn’t be arriving for another ten hours or so. ‘Nothing.’
He theatrically mirrored her action, tossing the book away and faced her. The sheet slipped to reveal his broad, bronzed, way too hot, chest. ‘So, Nadia, what do we do now?’
She had no idea. She’d bluff. ‘Shower?’
It was a good idea. Forty minutes later there was so much steam in the bathroom the extractor fan failed. The trip switch went when it was overworked, and it was totally overworked now.
‘Damn thing.’ Nadia pushed her wet hair out of her face and hunted for the stool to stand on so she could fix it.
With a grin Ethan nudged her out of the way, reached up and did it for her.
She glared at him. ‘Don’t treat me like some incompetent little girl.’
‘I’m not.’ He chuckled and held her still way too easily. ‘Don’t project your hang-ups onto me.’
‘I’m not.’ She wriggled, vainly trying to escape. ‘But people see me and think I’m some doll who can’t manage anything on my own.’
‘Honey, I’m aware of all you can manage.’ His hands slipped into soft places. ‘But isn’t it nice to have help sometimes?’
‘I don’t want to be patronised. I can manage just fine alone.’
‘So you won’t admit to any physical limitations? But you have some, Nadia, and that’s not a bad thing.’
‘I refuse to be limited,’ she argued. ‘I can and will do anything. My parents didn’t want me to move to the city—never believed I’d get a job in a big firm like Hammond. But while I may not have the size, I do have the smarts.’
‘And you prove your power even more with your stabbing words on the internet?’ He shook his head reproachfully. ‘Why does it matter so much?
‘You’ve not spent your whole life fighting the assumption that you’re not as capable as the rest of the population because you’re short.’
‘Yeah, but proving your capability doesn’t have to mean all by yourself. You know, some things you have to have a partner for.’ He picked her up and demonstrated just how much stronger he was—and what a ‘partner’ could do.
‘It’s not fair,’ she moaned.
‘Life isn’t fair. Yes, I’m physically stronger than you—but there are benefits to that. Benefits you enjoy.’
She knew he was teasing, to turn her flash of anger into amusement. And it was working—because he was so right. ‘Oh, really?’ Her protest sounded as pathetic to her ears as it must be to his. Secretly she loved his size and strength. It was as if she’d been programmed to seek out the biggest piece of masculinity she could and cling to him. And Ethan was certainly that.
‘It turns you on when I press you deep into the bed,’ he muttered, kissing her neck. ‘You like being lifted by me like this just as much as I like lifting you. But even big guys like me have vulnerabilities, you know. Everybody does.’
‘Oh, you do?’ She suspected he actually did. She just wished she knew and understood them. ‘Tell me more.’
‘And give you power over me?’ He chuckled. ‘Never.’
‘You don’t think I have power over you already?’ She aimed to tease him back.
Their gaze met and held. And held some more.
‘Why don’t you find out?’ he invited eventually, wickedness flaring in his eyes.
Yeah, he always brought it back to sex, didn’t he? Any time the conversation got a little too close to the bone, too personal, too emotionally intimate for him, he kissed or teased his way out of it.
But right this second she was happy to let him away with it.
An hour later Ethan took another quick shower, and wandered out towel-clad to find her in front of her computer, busily tapping away. He pulled up a chair next to her and unashamedly watched her work.
‘It’s a pretty impressive machine.’ The screen was huge.
‘Yeah.’ She wrinkled her nose. ‘Cost a bomb.’
She was going through the million e-mails that had landed last night, checking all the comments that had been posted on WomenBWarned were okay, answering queries and direct messages. She was incredibly organised. There were tonnes of folders, the titles of which amused him—especially the ‘Feedback—Excellent’ and the ‘Feedback—Aw ful’ ones.
‘Which one has more messages in it?’ he asked, pointing to them.
‘Which do you think?’ She laughed, standing to answer the ringing phone. ‘Oh, hi Megan …’
Ethan tuned out of her phone conversation as he read the e-mail that was next up to be sorted.
Can you please, please, please put together a Top Ten list of the worst cheats ever on WBW? Or, even better, could we vote for them? I have THE guy to take it out on…he so deserves to be front page, number one …
Great—anoth
er scorned and furious harpy. Shaking his head, Ethan resisted the urge to hit ‘delete’ and instead pulled the message into the ‘suggestions’ folder, as Nadia had done with the previous one on a similar theme. Then he started reading the next e-mail.
I wanted to tell you how much I appreciate WomanBWarned. Not because I think all guys are scum, like the guy I dated, but because there’s a place out there where someone listens and I can read about other women’s experiences and talk to someone in privacy about what happened. And it was rape. For so long I didn’t know if I could call it that—if it was my own fault or what. But it wasn’t. I didn’t do anything wrong. He did. I’ve never told anyone in my real life, but I have a voice on here and you listen. It helps.
Nadia’s arm reached past him to the mouse and the e-mail was pulled into a folder. ‘Some of the messages aren’t on the public forum,’ she said quietly. ‘There are some private threads.’
‘Of course.’ He leaned away from the screen and realised he’d been holding his breath for some unknown reason. He pushed the stale air from his lungs. ‘That’s awful.’
‘Yeah.’ Nadia sat beside him again.
‘How do you know what to say to someone who’s been through that?’
She clicked through a couple more e-mails. ‘It’s not so much about offering answers. I mean, what answers can there be? There’s no cute line anyone can say to fix that. But I can give what she says—space and a place to have a voice. I link to lots of resources, and there are other women who’ve been through similar experiences who speak up. I’m not a counsellor. I guess I facilitate. But, yeah—’ she looked glum ‘—some women deal with way worse than a stupid virginity collector.’
That was true. But what had happened to Nadia had also been horrible. And if Ethan ever came across Rafe Buxton in real life he’d have to be forcibly restrained from doing violence to the bastard. But if he did punch the guy out Nadia would probably commit some form of violence on him—she was so determined to take care of herself and not have any help or protection. Especially not from a big guy like him. As if that was the worst thing ever. But he couldn’t stop that need rising in him—that caring.