Tempted Heir (The Heirs 7)

Nodding, I turn to the sink, and it has Miss Sebastian pointing at a toiletries bag. “Christopher brought it.”

I stare at the familiar bag, and it makes a weird twinge spread through me. Sentiment?

I’m careful as I brush my teeth, and when I’m done, I pat my mouth dry. I turn toward the door, and my eyes lock on my reflection in the mirror.

Every bruise stirs a memory, and soon they’re flashing through my mind, like splinters of glass. Sharp. Cutting. Painful.

Miss Sebastian takes hold of my shoulders and pushes me toward the door while she says, “They’ll fade. In no time, they’ll be gone.”

But the memories will remain.

When I walk back into the room, Christopher darts up from where he was sitting.

I keep my eyes lowered as I move toward the bed.

I can’t explain why I’m reacting the way I am toward him. I feel like I should be cautious. So, so very cautious.

I know… deep down… I know he’ll never hurt me.

‘Do you really think you’d be able to get Christopher to marry you?

The doubts have been planted. They were soaked in pain until they sprouted thorny branches that tore everything I believed to shreds.

I’m scared Christopher will see me the same way Josh did. Christopher is the kind of man who deserves a trophy wife on his arm.

And I’m no trophy.

I’m the best friend.

I’m the girl you’re comfortable with.

I’m not sexy. I’m not witty. I’m not brave and adventurous.

I’m just the best friend. The one who’s there like a shadow you can’t get rid of.

But I can’t stand the thought of losing him, so I’m cautious not to upset him in any way.

I’d rather be his best friend than nothing. Or worse, a failure. A disappointment. Not good enough.

As soon as I’m back in bed, Mom closes in on me. “Let me check your back.” She helps me lower the bathrobe in a way that keeps my front covered, and she moves my hair to the side. As she begins to dab something over my back, the burning sensation returns. “Let me know if it hurts,” Mom murmurs.

Lowering my head, I stare at the white cotton fabric over my legs.

The burning increases, and it’s as if a thousand fire ants are crawling over my skin. It has me clenching my jaw.

“She’s in pain,” Christopher suddenly says, his voice tight with tension. He comes to crouch in front of me. “How bad is it?”

I want to be stronger, but I can’t keep myself from whispering, “Nine.”

“God, baby,” Mom breathes. She rushes to prepare an injection and insert it into the IV. Moments later, the burning eases, and the relief has my eyes drifting closed. “Better?” Mom asks.

I nod. “Thank you.”

Christopher doesn’t move from where he’s crouching by my legs and needing to touch him, my hand slowly moves toward him. His fingers fold around mine, and it feels so good it makes my breathing speed up.

‘You need to realize I’m the best you can do. I’m the only one who understands you.’

The memory grates at me, and I duck my chin to my chest as a tear escapes.

Christopher rises to his feet, and my body flinches from the sudden movement. Then his hand slips behind my head, and he carefully pulls me closer until my cheek is resting against his abs. He doesn’t do anything else. He just holds me while Mom works on my back.

The tenderness from my loved ones makes something click into place inside me – as if I’m only now realizing I’m safe.

A sob flutters over my lips, and I turn my face into Christopher’s shirt. He keeps a hand behind my head while his other slips behind my neck.

My arms move up, and I’m unable to keep from crying when I wrap them around him. Sobs begin to wrack through my body until I feel sick.

They don’t say anything. Mom just continues to dab at my back while Christopher holds me.

My fingers grip hold of his shirt, and I use the little strength I have left to cling to him. In a moment of weakness, I beg, “Please don’t leave me.”

Christopher moves, and it makes a strangled sound escape me. He crouches again, and bringing his hands to my face, he gently cups my cheeks. Our eyes lock, and then he says, “That will never happen. You’re my heart and soul.”

The words act as a soothing balm, easing the deep ache in my chest a little.

Chapter 24

CHRISTOPHER

It’s been a week since we found Dash. Every day she seems to be doing a little better.

Her wounds are healing, and the bruises have faded. She’s regained the weight she lost, and she’s not as jumpy every time one of us moves.

I’m sitting out on the veranda with her. We haven’t talked about her time in the cabin. I was hoping she’d just open up to me, but I’m getting a feeling that’s not going to happen.