Keep Me Safe (12 page)

Their breaths were noisy in the silence. The only sounds were the rapid puffs of air, the sound of their mouths as they molded hotly to one another and the harsh sounds of their breathing as they sucked in breath after breath through distended nostrils.

His hand slipped from the strands of her hair and gently slid down her neck and over her shoulder and then glided underneath her arm, his fingers spreading out over her rib cage. His thumb brushed the under swell of her breast and then his fingers gathered the thin material of her T-shirt and inched it upward until the hem was in his grasp.

When he touched her bare skin, a soft moan escaped her, breaking the silence. She tensed for a moment, afraid that once again she'd shattered the spell, but his grip only grew tighter, more possessive.

His open palm traveled around her waist and to the center of her back. He rolled her underneath him, their mouths never separating. His weight bore down on her, hot, hard, his body undulating in perfect rhythm with her heart. She closed her eyes, surrendering to the magnetic pull between them, a different kind of link that had been present from the start.

Her hands explored the muscled wall of his back, his shoulders and then slipped downward where his waist narrowed. The muscles rippled in reaction and his breathing hitched, stuttering over her lips.

His erection bulged against the apex of her thighs, rubbing erotically over the thin layer of her panties exerting just enough pressure on her clit to bring her to orgasm.

He pulled her hands away from him, lacing their fingertips before lowering them to the bed just above her head. Hands twined, his mouth sliding from her mouth down her jaw and then to her neck, he whispered against her ear.

“You do have someone to live for, Ramie. You have me.”

THIRTEEN

WHEN
Ramie awoke the next morning, she immediately reached behind her, searching for Caleb, needing that reassurance. When she was met by emptiness, she frowned and turned her head to look over her shoulder.

He was gone, and by the looks of it, he'd been gone for quite some time. There was no indentation on the pillow or the bed. Had he returned to his own room the moment she'd fallen asleep?

She flinched when she turned just enough to catch the full force of the sun shining through one of the slats of the blinds. The sun was high enough to signal that it was rather late in the morning and when her gaze drifted to the clock by the bed she got confirmation that it was in fact late.

Still she lay there contemplating the events of the night before. Caleb in her bed. His arms around her, anchoring her and offering comfort. Intimacy had cloaked them, making her restless and edgy. Unfulfilled in a way she'd never experienced.

She had no idea what was happening between her and Caleb and whether or not she wanted it to happen. Being so close to another human being—especially a man—was a new experience for her. One she discovered she liked. A lot.

She threw off the covers and swung her legs over the side of the bed but then caught herself. Where was she going? She didn't have to be anywhere and she couldn't very well just barge through Caleb's house like she owned the place.

Did she simply stay in her room? Or was she supposed to come out at some point?

The growling in her stomach decided the dilemma for her. She was starving.

She shuffled toward the bathroom and turned the shower on, making sure the water was cool enough to wake her more fully. She gasped when she ducked under the spray. The temperature jolted her senses and as she'd hoped, some of the fuzz and haze clouding her mind and dulling her senses evaporated under the chilly water.

She hastily washed her hair and body, not lingering under the coldness of the shower. Throwing one towel over her hair, she wrapped another around her body and stepped back into the bedroom.

Instant cold assailed her. Even colder than the shower had been. Why was it so damn cold in this bedroom? It wasn't that cold in the rest of the house.

I'm here.

She stopped breathing. Went utterly still as goose bumps popped out over her flesh and raced along the surface until every hair on her body was on its end. She shook her head. No. She wouldn't allow him to unnerve her.

Still, she hurriedly pulled her clothing on and scrubbed at her damp hair. Tossing the towel to the floor, she all but fled from the room.

The moment she stepped into the hallway, warmth embraced her. She inhaled sharply, sucking in the much warmer air. She quickly put as much distance between her and that awful room as possible. She slowed halfway down the stairs and forced herself to at least appear calm even if her insides were a seething mass of nerves.

She hadn't paid much attention to the downstairs tour yesterday. The only thing she could remember with any clarity was the room where all the security monitors were housed. That one she remembered down to the smallest detail.

Knowing the living room was on her right, she veered left at the bottom of the stairs and took the hallway past the security room, the safe room and finally arrived at the kitchen. When she hesitantly entered the doorway, Tori looked up from where she was sitting at the island and anger burned in her gaze.

Without a word, Tori shot upward, knocking over her glass, and she stalked away, leaving Caleb standing there, his features drawn, his eyes haunted.

“She doesn't want me here,” Ramie said unnecessarily.

Caleb turned, his gaze not quite meeting hers. “No,” he said quietly. “She doesn't.”

“You argued over me. My being here.”

Again her words were completely unnecessary. But still, she spoke them aloud if only to get Caleb to realize the ramifications of her presence. She couldn't stay here. He couldn't choose a promise to her over his family. No one should ever have to make such a choice.

He simply nodded, confirming her assessment.

“I'll go then,” Ramie said simply.

“No!” Caleb barked out, his expression growing black. “You are
not
going anywhere. It's not even an option.”

She blinked at his vehemence. “I was hungry,” she said in a low voice, her attempt at changing the focus of the conversation.

“Of course you are. I'm sorry. I should have had something sent up to you. You shouldn't have to come downstairs to . . . ​this,” he said, gesturing in the direction his sister had departed.

The grief in his eyes was too much for her to bear. She closed the distance between them and took his hands in hers, looking into his eyes.

“It isn't your fault, Caleb. You can't blame yourself for this. For her. For me. Any of it. And you shouldn't have to choose between a stranger and your sister.”

His eyes suddenly blazed, his fury bursting through her mind. It was so scorching that she instantly dropped his hands to break the connection between them.

“You are not a stranger,” he said savagely. “You aren't nobody, Ramie. You're somebody. You're important. To
me
. You're important. So stop telling me what I can and can't choose. Stop telling me what to feel.”

“I'm not . . . ​I'm sorry,” she said quietly.

She turned away, her heart beating so rapidly in her chest that it was a dull roar in her ears, her pulse. She had no idea what to say, how to respond to what he'd said.

“That's it?” he demanded. “You apologize . . . ​for what, Ramie? What exactly are you sorry for? Sorry that I care? Sorry that you aren't dead? What are you apologizing for, or do you even know?”

She turned back, going still, her hand resting on the back of the bar stool. “I don't know,” she said honestly. “I don't know the answers to any of it. I'm not trying to make you angry, Caleb. God knows I'm grateful—”

He lifted his hand and pushed it outward as if outright rejecting her words. “I don't want your fucking gratitude. Just save it. Nor do I want you to keep offering goddamn apologies left and right.”

“Then what
do
you want?” she burst out. “What do you
want
? Because I don't know and I'm not good at playing mind games or guessing games for that matter.”

He was suddenly right in front of her again, heat radiating from him in waves. His jaw was tightly clenched, his features as hard as stone. And he was pissed.

“You don't get it, do you?”

“What? What don't I get?” she yelled at him. “What is it that I'm supposed to be
getting
? Because I don't know! All I know is that I'm bringing more pain and suffering to a family who has already experienced way too much.”

She broke off as a sob welled up in her chest, constricting her throat before spilling out, ugly and guttural. Her shoulders heaved and she covered her face with her hands.

Caleb sighed and then suddenly she was in his arms. She buried her face in his chest and wrapped her arms around his waist, holding on as if he were the only anchor in a vicious storm.

“What don't I get?” she whispered against his shirt. “Because it seems to me I get exactly what the situation is.”

He grasped her shoulders and pulled her away so they were looking each other in the eyes.

“That I want
you
.”

She stared soundlessly at him as his words penetrated the thick curtain of despair and isolation. She went so still that she realized she was holding her breath and finally let it escape in one long exhale.

“What you don't get is that I want you,” Caleb repeated. “What you don't get is that the idea of you in the hands of a monster terrifies me. What you don't get is that you are important to me. And what you don't get is that no matter how much my sister hates you being here, I'm not letting you walk out of my life and that has nothing to do with any debt I or my family owes you. Or any obligation I may have felt a year ago. It has absolutely nothing to do with you saving Tori. I won't let you go because I want you to stay. I realize you've never had anyone fight for you, Ramie. But you do now. You have
me
.”

“No one has ever wanted me,” she whispered. “They've wanted what I can do, what my abilities can do, but never
me
. Do you know what that feels like?”

Caleb's expression softened and his eyes darkened, not with pity, because that truly would have driven her over the edge. But with understanding.

“We aren't as different as you think,” he said quietly. “I'm a Devereaux. And people—women—want what that name brings. Money, power, prestige. But they don't want me. Caleb. They want Caleb
Devereaux
.”

Sharp understanding hit her and shame burned her cheeks. She was so self-absorbed, so ensconced in her own pity party that she failed to see beyond her own issues. Caleb had considered her selfish, before, when he hadn't known how her abilities worked. He wasn't wrong. She
was
selfish. And it wasn't a pleasant revelation.

She'd gone through her whole life expecting the worst, settling for the worst. Never fighting for more. Never expecting more. How could she hope to gain more if she didn't demand it?

She'd spent so much time railing at the injustice of it all and poor little unloved Ramie. She'd allowed herself to be stripped of her soul. No one had done that to her. She'd done it to herself. Because she wasn't strong. Because it never occurred to her to want more than what she'd been dealt. Or to go after happiness instead of waiting for it to be magically bestowed on her. Instead she'd wallowed in her own misery for a decade.

Right here, right now, right in front of her stood someone who professed to care about her. Not her abilities. He wasn't asking her for anything. She'd be a fool to walk away even though it meant endangering him—his entire family. Maybe together, they could fight.

“I want you,” she said softly. “Me, Caleb.
I
want you. No matter what your last name is.”

FOURTEEN

CALEB
stared back at Ramie, at the fear and vulnerability in her eyes, and marveled at what it must have taken for her to open herself up to him. There was doubt and her expression was troubled, not exactly the kind of reaction a man wanted to see on the face of the woman he planned to get intimate with, but Ramie wasn't most women. Most women hadn't seen the world through Ramie's eyes.

He reached for the hands that had dropped his just moments before, and he knew why she'd severed the link between them. But he was calmer now, and he wanted her to see—to know—that she had nothing to fear from him.

She shivered when he tugged her back into his arms and her body went soft and pliant against his frame. There was still a hint of dampness in her hair. Hair that smelled like honeysuckle.

He wanted to take her to bed. Right now. He wanted to spend the entire day making love to her. Showing her without inept words the ever-strengthening bond between them.

Instead he smoothed his hand over the top of her curly hair and stroked reassuringly, getting her used to being touched by someone. A man. A man who had no intention of hurting her. It occurred to him that her sole experience with sex might be the degrading crimes that had been committed against so many women Ramie had helped.

And if that was the case, then he had to handle her with extreme caution. No rushing her into physical and emotional intimacy before she was ready. Yes, he wanted her to be able to depend on him. Willing to depend on him and trust him. But he didn't want to be her crutch. For him to merely be a coping mechanism when he wanted so much more.

He dropped a kiss on top of her head as he continued to caress her back and nape, tangling his fingers periodically in the unruly strands of hair. And he simply enjoyed the feeling of her in his arms. Of her standing in his home and him knowing that she was safe. Not out there alone and vulnerable. Afraid that each breath would be her last. It was no way to live. And certainly no way to die.