She’d grown so comfortable with him that she hadn’t covered her skin with the blankets, despite the cool air. He barely even noticed the scars anymore, didn’t really care. They were a mark, a part of her, a memory of what she’d suffered, what she’d gone through before she came to him.
And he was so very, very thankful that she’d come to him.
He let his gaze wander over her pale skin, knew that she’d gained a few pounds since that first night they’d spent together. The accident, the months of being in a coma, the burns she’d suffered and the recovery time she’d been through, all of it had made her bone thin. He liked to believe her happiness helped with her weight gain, and that he’d brought her some of that happiness.
“What are you thinking?”
Ah, the question more than one woman in his past had asked him, usually at the worst moment. A question that usually struck panic within his soul, because he knew she wouldn’t want to know how he was plotting to get away before things got too deep.
“I’m thinking how beautiful you are,” he answered truthfully.
Jane glanced up, offering him a sweet smile. He’d never been with a woman who looked at him as if he hung the moon, who depended on him, who took care of him as Jane did.
“You’re staring,” she whispered, and he remembered when she’d said that to him before, the night in the movie theater right before he’d kissed her.
“I love to look at you,” he admitted, threading his fingers through her tangled hair.
Her eyes slid closed as she nuzzled his chest with her cheek. He stroked her back, curved around to tease her front, resting his hand on her chest. The pounding of her heart beat against his palm, a steady ba-boom that reminded him she was a flesh-and-blood real woman, a woman with faults and strengths and loves and hates. A woman much like him, yet different.
So different. She was good for him. He’d let her in despite his old habits of never revealing himself, and he’d shared everything with her. And she had stayed, exposed herself right back, and he’d be damned if he could turn her away now.
Not when he loved her so much.
Overwhelmed, he gathered her closer, his heartbeat matching the rhythm of hers, her legs tangled with his. She was a soft, warm bundle, slim arms holding him close, damp lips pressed against his skin. She felt so good, so right in his arms. And he was consumed with the need to tell her how he felt, how much she meant to him.
“It wasn’t so bad, was it? Letting go?” he said instead.
“What do you mean?” She wouldn’t look at him, her words muffled against his chest.
“You know, shedding inhibitions, letting loose. You let go for me tonight, Jane. And you enjoyed it.” It was a major step for her, he knew. After all, this was a woman trying to regain control of her life.
Lifting her head, her intense gaze met his. “I loved it when you lost control, too.”
“I love you,” he admitted, the words just spilling out. He immediately stilled.
Her eyes went wide, unblinking for several long beats, her body frozen. He couldn’t believe he’d said that. Too soon, way too soon. But then she smiled. A smile so sweet, so full of love and affection and hope, that his heart threatened to crack open and spill all over the place at the sight of it.
“I love you, too.” Her voice was soft, a mere whisper, and he swallowed her words, kissing her and himself stupid, drunk with his love for her.
They moved as one, eager for each other as he pressed her into the mattress. He took her hands, entwining his fingers with hers and brought her arms up and over her head. Holding her captive, both with his hands and his gaze, as he made love to her again, possessing her. Making her his and loving her with a fierceness, an intensity he didn’t know he had.
All of it brought forth by the love of this one woman.
Jane.
Chapter Fifteen
It figured a ringing phone would disturb his time with Jane, Chris thought, reluctant to crawl out of bed to answer it. She lay next to him sound asleep, her body curved around his, and he held her close, pressed yet another kiss to her forehead.
It was almost five in the morning and he needed to answer that damn phone. No one called at this time unless it was about work.
He knew it was about work.
Shifting, he pulled away from her and rolled out of bed, the cold air hitting him, making him inhale sharply. It had rained earlier, the air turning bitterly cold, threatening snow, and he wondered what could be so urgent in the middle of December.
Of course things got busier the closer it was to Christmas, and that was in only a few days. People were foolish, negligent this time of year. Too-dry trees with lights that shorted out. Candles left lit for hours and burning where they shouldn’t be. The possibilities were endless and people, unfortunately, weren’t too bright.
A phone started ringing again, this time his cell, and he grabbed it from his dresser, answering it quietly so as not to disturb Jane.