After the Storm (17 page)

CHAPTER 18

DONOVAN
was warming the plates of lasagna and preparing to get a tray together so he could bring everyone food in bed when he looked up and saw Eve standing in the doorway of his kitchen.

He was ridiculously charmed by the image. His T-shirt hanging to her knees, slim legs and bare feet visible. Hair tousled and her eyes droopy with the remnants of sleep, her hand propped on the door frame as she gazed nervously in his direction. He liked her in his space. Like she belonged here. With him. He’d said as much to his brothers, but seeing her right here and now only solidified his feeling of . . . possession. Was this what his brothers had felt when they’d first met their wives? Had they known from the first moment that she was the one? He knew Garrett had been in way over his head from the moment he’d seen Sarah.

And yes, as Garrett had said, Donovan had even warned him off. For all the good it had done him. But now he understood. He got it in a way he hadn’t gotten it then. And he knew, just as Garrett had known, that Eve’s future was inexorably tied up with his. He accepted that. Would accept no other possibility. But he also knew it wasn’t going to be easy. But then it hadn’t been easy for any of his brothers or their team leaders. And well, nothing good was easy.

“Come on in,” he invited, waving her toward the table. He knew she was uncomfortable dressed in only his shirt, but he was determined to act normal, as if she weren’t standing there in just a thin pair of panties and his oversized T-shirt. “I was warming up food to bring you in bed, but if you’re up to it, you can eat with me at the table, and then we’ll wake Travis and Cammie up to eat. Unless they’re awake already?”

He knew she would have gone in and checked on Travis, and he also knew she wouldn’t have left Cammie alone in the bedroom if she was awake. Though he had intended to bring her dinner in bed, he now jumped at the opportunity to have dinner with her—alone—in the kitchen. They needed to get a lot out of the way. And he had to see if she trusted him enough yet to confide in him.

“No, they’re still asleep,” she said in a low voice as she moved toward the table.

Unease was evident in the way she held herself, the hesitance in her eyes as she watched him, standing awkwardly next to a chair still pushed underneath the table. And she was quick to hide her legs behind the table, as if the image of her bare legs weren’t already burned into his memory.

He carried a plate of lasagna, just out of the microwave, and set it down in front of her.

“What would you like to drink? I have sweet tea, lemonade or a variety of sodas.”

As he spoke, he pulled her chair out for her and motioned for her to sit. When she lowered herself, he caught her elbow, making sure she didn’t suffer any effects of the medication he’d administered earlier. She went utterly still at his touch and then glanced up at him underneath her long lashes.

She had to feel it too. This electric connection between them. No way could she be unaware of the current. To reinforce the sensation, he caressed the skin just above her elbow with his fingers. It was a gesture meant to comfort, but the heat from her flesh bled into his hand and up his arm.

“Tea is fine,” she murmured.

“I’ll be right back with a glass and a fork for you to eat with.”

He pushed the plate so it was directly in front of her and then went to collect her drink, forks for both of them and the plate he’d left sitting inside the microwave while he’d brought hers to the table.

A moment later he returned, sliding her glass across the table before taking the seat catty-corner to where she sat at the head.

“Feel up to eating?” he asked when she didn’t dig in right away. “Did the medicine make you queasy? I have medication that will settle your stomach and ease the nausea if you need it.”

She shook her head. “No. I’m fine. I was just enjoying the smell. It looks delicious.”

She picked up her fork and delicately cut into the wedge of lasagna. He watched her eat, watched the fork disappear into her mouth and fantasized about kissing that mouth. Then he shook his head and dug into his own food. He wasn’t the least bit subtle about his perusal of her. He wasn’t scoring any points in his bid to make her trust him by leering at her like some crusty old man wanting to get into her pants.

He gave her a moment to eat, not wanting to potentially upset her and cause her not to finish her meal. By the looks of her, and from what he’d seen of their trailer, he knew she’d missed far too many meals already.

It was only when she slowed and then finally set her fork down with a sigh, only a few bites left, that he put his own fork down and reached over to slide his hand over hers.

She tensed but didn’t pull from his grasp, a fact that gave him great satisfaction. But her gaze lifted, seeking information from him with that silent stare.

“Eve, we need to talk,” he said gently.

She flinched, but didn’t look away, instead facing him bravely, resignation written in the lines on her face. He hated that look. So defeated. Confiding in him wasn’t conceding defeat, and he didn’t want her to look at it as failure on her part to protect her siblings.

“I don’t know how much I can tell you,” she whispered.

He tightened his hold on her hand, stroking her knuckles with his thumb. “You can tell me anything. Everything. I need to know it all so I know what we’re up against.”

Her eyes narrowed in puzzlement and she looked at him in utter bewilderment. “You said
we
.”

The confusion in her voice made him ache. Clearly it baffled her that he’d included himself in her problems. Well, she’d better get used to it, because he
was
inserting himself.

She shook her head as if to clear her senses. “
You
aren’t up against anything, Donovan.
I
am. I can’t involve you with my problems. It isn’t fair. You don’t know me. You don’t know Travis or Cammie and you don’t know what their father is capable of.”

Well, they were getting somewhere at least. With those words, she’d confirmed Cammie’s statement that it was her father who’d hurt Eve and who had likely done something to hurt those children. Something bad enough to make Eve cut and run, sacrificing everything in her bid to keep them safe. It also confirmed his suspicion that Eve, Travis and Cammie didn’t share the same father. Which left her mother as the blood tie. Unless Eve had lied about Cammie and Travis being her siblings, something he didn’t believe. He’d seen the love for them shining in her eyes. Had seen how fiercely protective of them she was.

“What did he do?” Donovan asked, trying to keep the anger from his tone. She needed gentleness and understanding. She didn’t need his rage.

This time her gaze lowered and her head bowed as she stared down into her lap. He picked up her fingers so he could curl his around hers and he pulled gently to get her attention once more.

“Eve, you can trust me.”

She stared into his eyes, hope stirring in the depths of hers. Just as quickly, she shut it down and her gaze dimmed, vanquishing the brief light that had shone just seconds before.

“Please don’t take this the wrong way, Donovan. You’ve been very kind. But I can’t afford to trust
anyone
. There’s too much at stake. All it takes is
one
wrong decision on my part, one wrong move, and Travis and Cammie suffer as a result.”

“And not yourself?”

She flushed, color rising rapidly up her throat and into her cheeks. “I don’t matter.
They
do. They’re so young. Innocent. They have their entire lives ahead of them and Travis has already sacrificed so much of his. I want them to have normal lives. I want them to be happy and secure. I just want them to be
safe
.”

Her voice ached with emotion. It reflected so much need and desire that it made him ache.

There was so much wrong—and right—about her statement that he had to take a few moments to figure out which part he wanted to address first.

“You matter, Eve,” he said, taking on the most important part of her declaration. “Never think you don’t. Yes, your brother and sister should have all those things you mentioned. But so should
you
. You’re young. You have your entire life ahead of you. Just how old are you anyway?”

“Twenty-four,” she murmured.

Donovan sighed. Not much older than Rusty, and yet in other ways, probably a hell of a lot older. While Rusty had definitely had a not-so-great childhood, those days were behind her now. She had a life and a family. She could take on the world now, because no one around her would ever let her fall. He wanted that for Eve. The knowledge and confidence that came from knowing she was safe.

“I told you a little about me. My family. What my brothers and I do. You’ve seen where and how we live. We help people like you every single day. I could regale you with the impossible, horrible situations we’ve gotten people out of, but I don’t want you to even contemplate some of those scenarios. Because if nothing else, you’re safe
now
. And you’re safe
here
.”

Her breath caught in her throat and she went so still that he could see her pulse in her neck. She stared back at him, eyes wide and so full of the hope she’d extinguished earlier that it was like taking a fist to the gut. He could tell she was waging an inner war to end all wars. Her teeth sank into her bottom lip, and she gave him another look filled with consternation.

He should press his advantage right now and go hard at her. She was wavering and he could easily pull her in. But he didn’t want her trust that way. He wanted it because it was what she gave freely. He wasn’t sure why it mattered so much, but there it was.

“You make it sound so easy,” she murmured. “And God, I wish it were. As if telling you, as if accepting your help, would make it all be okay.”

His grip tightened around her hand, this time picking it up so he held it firmly in his grasp. A silent message to her that it
would
be okay. Unable to resist and praying he wasn’t making a huge mistake, he brought her hand to his mouth and pressed a kiss to the softness of her palm.

Her eyes widened, the shock of the sensation registering every bit as much with her as it did with him. They both sat there, frozen in silence, staring at each other, awareness flowing like a current of electricity between them.

He’d never been seized by such a strong urge to kiss a woman before. With any other woman, if he felt this strongly, he would already have her in his arms, his mouth on hers—and every other part of her body he could get his mouth on. Restraint had never cost him as much as it was costing him right here in this moment. It was a pain he’d never experienced, and he hoped to hell he didn’t have to experience it much longer.

“It
is
that easy,” he said, his tone unwavering as he spoke. It was laced with conviction. The same conviction he wanted her to eat, sleep and breathe. “I know it will take time for you to trust me, Eve. All I can do is show—
prove
—to you that my words are not just that. Words said to make you feel better. I’m not being arrogant. I’m stating an absolute truth. My brothers and I—
all
of KGI—will protect you and Cammie and Travis. With or without you sharing what it is that we’re up against. Granted, it will make my job, and theirs, a hell of lot easier if you tell me what I need to know—and I need to know
everything
—but regardless, I’m not about to let anything happen to you or your family.”

She inhaled sharply and then held her breath as she stared at him. He could see the wheels turning furiously in her mind. Her indecision was written all over her face, but he also saw the moment she capitulated and acceptance registered. He almost squeezed her hand, but held himself in check, not wanting to let his elation or sense of victory be broadcast. He’d do nothing to damage the first strings of trust that were starting to form. Much like a spider’s web taking shape. But nothing so sinister. No, the stirrings of the initial brush of her trust was a beautiful thing. Something he’d never forget and never take for granted because he knew what it cost her.

“I’m not sure you’ll believe me,” she said with helplessness he hated hearing.

“Try me,” he said, careful not to offer blind reassurance because then she wouldn’t believe him.

She sighed and closed her eyes, withdrawing her hand. He let it go, wanting her to be able to compose herself and gather the courage necessary to confide in him.

She slipped her hand into her lap, balling it with her other, and again, she took a deep, steadying breath.

“Would you feel more comfortable in the living room?” he asked.

He wanted her in a place and position where he could touch her. Offer encouragement. And so without waiting for her response, he stood and extended his hand to her.

She slid her soft fingers over his palm and then gripped his hand as he pulled her to a standing position. Perhaps she needed a few more moments to think of how she wanted to present her story. Donovan would wait as long as necessary and not pressure her to hurry.

She tugged self-consciously at his T-shirt, making sure it covered as much of her as possible as he led her into the living room. He seated her on the couch, taking the position next to her. He didn’t immediately crowd into her space. She was agitated enough without him adding more intimacy. At least not yet. That would come later. He’d hold her, do whatever was necessary to comfort and reassure her.

One of her hands fluttered to her forehead and for a moment she massaged absently, her nostrils flaring from the deep breaths puffing in and out. Then she closed her eyes again, as if bolstering her flagging courage, and when she reopened them, resolve shone brightly.

She turned toward him, pulling her leg up to tuck underneath the shirt she wore. For a moment she clasped her ankle, anxiety reflected in the furrowing of her brow.

“Cammie and Travis are my half brother and sister,” she began. “My mother married their father when I was young. At first I didn’t spend much time with them. I mean she didn’t have custody, and for a long time I wondered if she didn’t want me. It wasn’t until later that I realized she’d been protecting me.”