He's Captured My Trust (Captured Series Book 2) (15 page)

“You okay?” I ask him.

He nods in response before entering the bathroom.

I roll over onto my side, facing the side of the bed he sleeps on so that when he does come to bed, I can comfort him for a change. I want to understand the relationship between the two of them, because I have to admit I find it quite puzzling.

When he finally leaves the bathroom, he walks toward me slowly, pulling his T-shirt off. He stops at the bed and removes his jeans. I pull the covers back, and he slides in beside me. I wrap my arm around the back of his shoulder and place a soft, gentle kiss on his lips.

“What was that for?”

“Because I wanted to, and I think you needed it.”

“I’m sorry about tonight, baby. Between Emma and Katherine—”

“Don’t you dare apologise for them,” I say sharply. “You cannot be held responsible for how others behave. Emma seems like an interesting character, if a bit highly strung. And as for your friend, I’m at a loss for words. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to get on with her.”

He sighs deeply, taking in what I’ve said. He wraps his arms around me, and I move so he can slide his arm under me. He stares at me intently.

“Help me understand about Katherine. Tell me about the two of you, because I struggle to understand why you would have her in your life. And let’s face it; she has been a huge part of your life.”

“I don’t know where to start.”

“The beginning is usually the best place,” I reply as I look into his troubled eyes. His eyes always give me an indication of how he is feeling, and right now
is no different.

“Alright. I know my mom told you the basics of the story.” He moves a strand of my hair behind my ear. “That day was awful. When Michael and I got to the alley and found Sophie and Katherine, we didn’t hesitate. My priority was to get them both out of there and away. You know we were able to help Sophie, and Michael took her to safety, where they called the cops. I thought I would manage on my own to get Katherine away, but there were too many of them.”

“I fought with every breath I could, but there were four or five on me, punching me, kicking me, and holding me down. The whole time I was being attacked, I kept my eyes on her, but she had already given in to what was going to happen to her.” He stops and draws in a deep breath. I can tell how hard this is for him.

“I was willing the cops to arrive quickly, but they were taking too long. They tore her clothes, touching her, telling her how much she would enjoy it. When the first guy rammed into her, I will never forget her scream
.
I saw three guys take turns before I was unconscious from the others beating me.

“Katherine was in the hospital as long as I was—weeks
.
My mom wouldn’t let Sophie visit either of us. She was too upset about everything.”

I get the feeling that this might be the first time he has actually spoken about it. He is troubled. I stroke the side of his face, and he brings his hand up and holds mine in place. I feel the warmth of his skin against my hand.

“Do you want to carry on?” I ask quietly.

“Yes. It’s about time I told someone, although I’m not sure about burdening you with my past.”

“Why not? You know mine.”

“Because that’s different.”

“Why?”

“Because . . . Oh, I don’t know. I want and need to know everything about you.” He sighs.

“I feel the same about you.”

“Do you?” he questions me. I know what his question means, but now he’s going in a different direction.

“Back to the story. We can talk about me next.”

He rolls his eyes and shakes his head at me.

“Right. My injuries took weeks before they started to heal, but I did recover from them. But the stuff in my head I learned to push it back
.
And that’s where I’ve kept it until recently. My mom got Sophie to go and speak with a psychologist who helped her. She felt guilty about what happened to Katherine. She tried to get me to go as well, but I refused and shut my family out for a bit, and then pretended it didn’t happen.

“Katherine, on the other hand, blamed Sophie and Michael and I for what happened. She couldn’t understand why Sophie was so upset, when, as she says, nothing happened to her. I get why Sophie was upset. I wish she had never been in that situation in the first place. And that’s my fault.”

“You can’t blame yourself for that.”

“Why not? If Michael and I hadn’t gotten into a fight that day, I would have walked the girls home like I did every other day.”

“Alex, you can’t blame yourself, or Michael, or even the girls for entering the alley in the first place, although having said that, I can’t understand why they would.”

“Katherine knew some of the boys. They were friends with her older sister.” He pauses before continuing. “Katherine blames me, and for all these years I’ve let her. I’ve let her have that hold over me. Even my mom couldn’t get it through to me what she was doing.”

“It wasn’t until you that I finally realised it. You made me think about the whole situation, how wrong it was and is. My mom has been right all these years. I’ve let Katherine blame me and then use me to her own advantage. I don’t know why I’ve let Katherine have this hold on me. Maybe scared that it will all come out in the open? I don’t know. That I will be seen as weak. ” A single tear trickles down his beautiful face, and that in itself upsets me. He closes his eyes in an attempt to compose himself.

“Weak, is not a word I would use. Strong comes to mind. To have dealt with all this, mostly on your own to begin with.”

He shakes his head, not agreeing with me. “No not strong.”

“I love you, Alexander Mathews.”

His eyes spring open and he searches my face. “Do you have any idea how long I’ve waited to hear those words from you?” The smile on his face is a delight to see.

“Yes, I do, and for that I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologise, baby, because I knew you would say them only when you truly meant them.”

I shake my head and lower my eyes away from his.

“Libby, what’s wrong?”

“I was scared to admit how I feel. I’ve probably loved you from the start. ”

“Why?”

“Because I knew the minute those words left me, I was risking getting my heart broken.” The tears roll down and I can’t do a thing to stop them.

He holds me tighter and kisses me. “Libby, please, baby. I have no intention of breaking your heart. I love you too much to do that. I never imagined I could feel this way about anyone. This is all new to me. I might make some mistakes along the way, but I believe we’ll get there together. I believe I have a future other than work. I see a family, but, most of all, I see you.”

I don’t know what to say to his admission. Yet again, he has left me breathless. At least it explains the brief conversation about babies. I love my niece dearly and dote on her as if she were my own, but I’m not ready to go down that particular road anytime soon. I want to sink my teeth into my job, put the hotel firmly on the map. “I don’t know what to say to that.”

“Don’t say anything, baby. It’s been a long night, and now, I want to have you in my arms and sleep, knowing that you are truly mine.”

“I have been yours since you stepped foot in the hotel.” I run my fingers down his cheek and along his lips, pausing as he kisses each finger.

“I’m glad to hear it, because I am yours in every sense of the word. I love you, Miss Elizabeth Stewart, and I intend to make it my priority to make you happy each and every single day.”

“You already do.” I move my head slightly and lean in to kiss him,
but it’s as if he has read my mind, and his lips meet mine in a long, tender, and, most of all, loving
kiss.

“I hate to break this moment, but I am a bit concerned about Katherine,” I say.

“Why? Libby, I’m not concerned about her,
and you shouldn’t be either.”

“It’s what she said earlier in the hall. About making sure we’re not together.”

“There’s not a thing she can possibly do about it, so try not to worry. I think that’s enough bedtime stories for tonight, don’t you?”

“Yeah,” I answer with a yawn.

“Sleep then, my beautiful, yet feisty girl.” He rolls onto his back and my head rests against the rise and fall of his chest, where the gentle rhythm soothes me into a deep sleep.

“MM,” I SAY AS HIS
caressing hands tease me from the most peaceful sleep I’ve had in recent weeks. “Good morning.” I lift my head and face the man I love.

“Good morning, beautiful.” He smiles, placing a kiss on my head. “How are you feeling?”

“I feel rested. That was the best sleep I’ve had in weeks, and it was because of you.”

“How so?”

“Because I fell asleep in your arms and woke up in your arms, and I didn’t have any nightmares for the first time in weeks.” I smile. “And can I let you in on a secret?”

“Of course,” he says, raising his eyebrows in surprise.

“In your arms is my favourite place in the world and where I feel safe—safe from all the ghosts of my past.” I lean my head back into his chest and feel his deep breaths, which completely puts me at ease.
Of course I feel at ease.

He wraps his arms more tightly around me. “Baby, I always want you to feel safe in my arms. And all our ghosts can stay in the past where they belong, because as I said last night, I want to focus on my future—
our
future.”

This man leaves me dumbfounded at every turn. A future. I struggle to think about what sort of future we will have together. “What time am I leaving with Sophie?”

“Around twelve. Murphy will take you both and, of course, pick you up.”

I glance at the alarm clock, it’s really early. “So we have some time for us?”

“Of course. What do you have in mind, baby?”

“I can think of one or two things that will keep us occupied for the morning, if you’re game.”

“I’m always game where you’re concerned. You should know that by now. Now the big question is: are you game for what I have in mind for you this morning?”

Holy shit. What the hell does he have in mind for this morning? He gets out of the bed and goes to the wardrobe—or as he calls it, the closet—and takes out a bag. He walks back toward me.

“Enjoying the view, Miss Stewart?”

“As always.”

He sits back down on the bed and places the bag beside me.

“It’s a present, kind of.”

“For me? You shouldn’t have.” I sit up.

“Open it.”

I open the bag and take out a red silk scarf, shawl.
What the . . .”
Well?” I ask, slightly confused.

“I thought we could have a bit of fun with that. I saw it and thought of you, and red is most definitely your colour.”

“I think you’d better tell me what you intend to do with it,” I say, my voice barely a whisper.

“Okay, baby, I will.” He folds the scarf in half lengthwise and then does the same thing a few more times. “Right. Let’s be removing that T-shirt first. It will only get in the way.” I remove the shirt slowly. He pushes my hair away from my face and smiles. Those smoky brown eyes pin me in place.

I take a deep breath, breathing him in. He moves his hands and grips my shoulders lightly before his lips crash into mine. I react the only way my body knows how. I kiss him as if my life depends on it
.
In a way, it does. I don’t know what I would do if I couldn’t kiss him. The longer we kiss, the stronger I feel the connection between us.

He moans, and at this moment, he is the only person on my mind. He makes me forget and need him all at the same time. I need to taste him. I need to have him deep inside me.

“So do you have some idea what the scarf is for?”

“As long as it’s not to restrain me, you can do whatever you want with it,” I answer, trying to sound confident. I’m trying not to overthink this.

“Then I am going to blindfold you, my sweet girl, not restrain you. I don’t think I could cope with not having your hands touch me. Everything I will do is something we’ve done before, but it will feel intense because you can’t see, and your senses will go into overdrive.”

I nod hesitantly. He takes the folded scarf in his hand and leans forward. He places the scarf over my eyes and reaches behind me and ties it at the back. And it’s dark now.

His lips brush mine ever so slightly. He pushes me back down on the bed and glides his hands southward down my body, trailing over my exposed, and now highly sensitive, breasts. His mouth latches onto my breast, teasing me with his tongue before sucking on my nipple. His teeth graze against it. This goes on for what seems an eternity before he moves on to the other.

I wriggle from his touch. He was right about my senses. I might not be able to see him, but I feel and hear him. And dear God, does this turn me on, more than I thought was possible. This is hot and intense, and in those two little words I have described Alexander Mathews—most definitely hot and intense.

All of a sudden, his touch is gone, and he shifts from the bed. I squirm, already missing his touch. The air is silent. “Something you need, Miss Stewart?” he asks, but he must already know the answer. “I think we should play a game. Now remember, you can remove the blindfold anytime you like.”