Wicked Lovers 07 Ours to Love (40 page)

“Why don’t we give you a few minutes to get dressed so we can all get out of here,”
Alyssa suggested to her. “Do you need any help? If you’d rather, I can send a nurse
in.”

“I can manage, but thanks.” She just wanted to get out of there . . . and plan the
best way to get on with her life.

Alyssa stood with a smile. “Let me know if you need any help.”

Luc wandered closer and patted her shoulder. “I’m relieved that you’re okay. Your
cousin and I will always be here for you.”

“Thanks.” She swallowed back tears. She was overwrought. God knew it had been an eventful
day, and it wasn’t over. So much unsettled . . .

Especially her heart.

“That means the world to me.” She smiled up at Luc.

He smiled back, then turned to Xander and Javier. “Give her a few minutes to get dressed,
guys.”

Neither moved a muscle. Both looked like it was going to take an act of Congress to
make them leave.

“Please,” she whispered. She wanted to put her clothes on, gather her thoughts. Find
her goddamn courage. Figure out how to say what needed to be said. She had so much
on her mind, so much unspoken . . .

Javier cursed under his breath and sent her a look that warned her not to step a single
toe out of the room without him before he stormed out into the hall.

Xander looked like he wanted to argue. Or plead. It was a close call. Instead, he
growled, “Fine.”

He followed his brother out the door, and suddenly she was alone. As she slipped into
her pants, the silence should have soothed her. Now that the adrenaline had worn off,
weariness tugged at her, all the way to her bones. As she wrestled into her bra and
grappled with her shirt, everything felt wrong. She’d spent years alone—in a coma,
isolated by her injuries, prisoner of her fears. It hit her that she couldn’t really
live as long as she was afraid. She was going to get hurt. Not everyone was going
to like or understand her. She might find people who were horrified by her scars.
They
were the injured ones. The shallow. The ones unable to look past the surface to see
her heart underneath.

Once, she’d thought Xander and Javier might fall into that category. But would the
men she knew—and loved—reject her for the roadmap of red lines carved into her back?
Maybe . . . but probably not. The relationship might not last forever, but she couldn’t
know its potential if she didn’t take a chance. Wasn’t risk part of life?

She donned her shoes and tossed her hair out of her face. Then stared at the closed
door separating her from them. She was going to have to step out of her comfort zone.
London wanted to come to Xander and Javier rested and whole, not coated in her own
fear and another man’s violent intent. She wanted them to know that she wasn’t running
on leftover nerves or fear. They could have no doubts about what was in her heart.
If they rejected her then . . . well, she’d have the comfort of knowing she’d truly
tried.

Crossing the floor, she pulled the door open with a breath, then stepped into the
hall. Her men stood in front of her, a wall of protective males looking ready to do
anything to keep her safe and whole. She smiled faintly. “The door is going to hit
me in the ass when I let go if you don’t back up.”

A few steps away, Luc chuckled until Alyssa elbowed him in the ribs.

Javier’s eyes narrowed with warning. If they’d been alone and today hadn’t been traumatic,
he’d be plotting exactly how to spank her, then torture her by arousing her unbearably
and delaying her gratification. It kind of sounded wonderful.

Xander merely snagged her by the wrist and jerked her against his body. “Now it won’t.
You’ll be safe with us,
belleza
. Always.”

“I didn’t doubt that.” She managed to pry herself out of his embrace.

Looking on, Javier frowned. “Little one, don’t run again. Come with us. Talk to us.
We’re sorry for what happened last night in Dallas—”

“There’s nothing to say.” London shook her head, not wanting him to apologize for
asking for the trust he needed from her. She’d simply been too afraid to give it,
and she would have to work through that before she could come to them whole. “I understand.
Just . . . I need some time before I can discuss it. Can you give me that?”

Xander stiffened, looking ready to protest. He whipped his gaze to his older brother,
who went just as tense. Some sort of silent communication passed between them, and
she stifled a grin. Whatever happened from here out, these two men had one another,
and she could think of nothing more important. They might have been out of step for
years, but they’d never been truly separate. It warmed every corner of her heart to
see them now on the same page.

Finally, Xander’s shoulders dipped as he let out a frustrated sigh. Then Javier nodded.
“Whatever you need, little one, you just tell us. Whatever it is, however you need
it, no matter what you think we might say, please communicate.”

London nodded.

“Promise us,” Xander prompted. “Day or night, rain or shine . . .”

They cared for her. It seemed so obvious. She suddenly understood what having the
warm fuzzies felt like. “I promise.”

She stepped between them and pressed a soft kiss to Xander’s lips. He grabbed her
and tried to keep her tight against him. His revving heart and the taut desperation
of his hold nearly had her melting and whispering reassurances in his ear.

London sent him a pleading expression. “A little time. I won’t take too much.”

Reluctance ripped across his face. He wanted to argue, but shook his head. With one
last brush of his lips on hers, he gritted his teeth and stepped back. And she turned
to Javier, his blue eyes drilled a million questions into her.

“I don’t blame you for being angry with me about Brenner and Valjean and—”

“I’m not.” She frowned as if the notion was absurd. Because it was. “You had no idea
Brenner was
that
vindictive. Sad to be that petty and cruel, but . . . It’s behind us.” She drew in
a shuddering breath. “It’s over.”

Javier grabbed her hair in his fists and pulled enough to snap her head back, pulling
her mouth under his. He devoured her for a long moment, taking sweeping possession
of her entire mouth—and with it, her body—before he grudgingly let go. “Don’t forget
us.”

She looked into his eyes and grabbed Xander’s hand, making them a promise. “Never.”

***

AS
the late morning sun slid in, Javier paced the living room, looking at his watch for
about the millionth time. A fucking Sunday morning, so he couldn’t bury himself in
work very successfully. Xander, leaning indolently on the nearby couch, didn’t look
inclined to try at all. Javier glanced at the bottle of Cîroc on the nearby wet bar.
The smooth, clear alcohol no longer held the lure of escape it once had. He didn’t
have to work so hard to drown out the voices of his guilty conscience. London had
shown him a new path, a real love. And without her now, he was crawling out of his
skin. How could Xander look so fucking calm?

“You’re wearing a path in the carpet,” his brother drawled.

“Your ass is making a dent in the couch. Are you not worried?”

A little hesitation, then he shook his head. “London may or may not be ready to commit,
but she’s not done. She won’t give up on us without talking to us first. You did your
part, right?”

Javier patted his pocket, both worried and comforted by its contents. “You know I
did. I’m ready if she walks in the door now. You have your stuff?”

He patted his pocket. “Got it.” Then a Cheshire cat grin spread across his face. “And
I got the call this morning. All’s clear.” Then his smile faded. “Last chance to back
out.”

“Fuck no!” Was Xander crazy? He’d given up on a lot of things in life: a normal adolescence,
his late wife, very nearly the company that had been his birthright. But he’d never
give up on Xander again. Or on London. “What about you?”

“Not happening, big brother.”

He swallowed. “That’s what I want to hear. Now if we just knew when she might want
to see us and talk—”

The doorbell chimed, clanging off the arched ceiling of the living room. He ran for
the door just as Xander darted off the couch and nearly hurdled the end table to reach
the portal. Together, they wrenched the door open. And there London stood.

She was a goddamn vision, her long hair drifting around her in pale curls, swaying
on the light morning breeze. Her eyes, trimmed in a thick fringe of dark lashes, fluttered
to her cheeks uncertainly before she met their gaze again. Her mouth was drawn into
a pensive frown. She wore a sweet white sundress with matching wedges. A twinkling
silver bracelet and lip gloss gave her the only hint of sparkle.

“Is this a bad time?”

Her soft voice made Javier instantly hard. He couldn’t push the memories of her breathy
pants and feminine cries out of his head. The way her skin turned pink and she unconsciously
spread her legs wider as she approached orgasm. Afterward, the way she held him so
tight . . . he felt like he’d always have a heart to belong to. Now, he just prayed
that feeling wasn’t wrong.

“Of course not.” But he didn’t move, couldn’t. He just stared at her, trying to wrap
his head around everything he had to say to convince her to stay.

“Are you going to keep her on the porch while you stand like a statue and gawk at
her?” Xander grumbled in his ear, prying the door wide open to London. He took her
by the hand and let her in. Javier could tell that Xander wanted to draw her into
his arms, but he knew that they had to hear what she needed to say first. And they
had a few things to say themselves.

“Come in,
belleza
. Talk to us.”

Javier shut the front door and locked it, then turned his undivided attention to the
two people who’d so quickly become his world, following them to the living room.

“Will you sit and just let me talk for a minute?”

The question fell softly from her sweet pink lips, and Javier sensed that she had
drawn together every bit of her courage to come here and say whatever was on her mind.
Was it what they wanted to hear? Had he misunderstood yesterday? Had her farewell
at the hospital been a prelude to good-bye?

“Of course,” Javier assured, sitting on the edge of the sofa.

Xander sank down beside him with a frown. “Tell us what’s on your mind.”

Still standing, she drew in a trembling breath. “I wanted to apologize for Friday
night at Dominion.”

“It’s all right. We asked for too much too fast, little one.” Javier fought the urge
to take her in his arms and assure her that he understood, even if her lack of trust
chafed.

London started to nod, then shook her head. “You asked me for a lot, true. But I panicked
and ran like a little girl when I should have trusted you and explained my fears.”

“You behaved like a woman who’s learning her way through relationships. We all make
mistakes. I’ve made more than my fair share. Xander has made even more—” His brother
elbowed him. “But if you’re ready to talk now, we’re eager to listen.”

“Thank you.” She wrung her hands together.

Javier wanted to leap up from the sofa and hug her tightly, but she had an invisible
wall between them. She wanted to get whatever was in her head out in the open before
she let either of them touch her.

So he simply nodded her way. “Before you say anything, I want you to know we’re not
angry that you left. Yes, we should have discussed your fears, but everything is all
right.”

“Really?”

“Absolutely everything, little one. Even S.I. Industries.”

Xander jumped in. “Yep. We received a call this morning from the Department of Justice.
Federal prosecutors are going after Brenner and the executive scum from United Velocity
who bought his information, knowing that it came from our R & D department. It’s all
in black-and-white on the computers law enforcement nabbed in the raid on Brenner’s
house. We’ve been assured that more military contracts are coming our way. And the
cherry on top? One of their most important researchers was so appalled to find out
what his employer had done that he reached out to us. He’s left United Velocity, saying
that he’ll fully cooperate with prosecutors. He’s offered to come work for us.”

“Which is great because he’s every bit as smart as Brenner and seems to have a lot
more scruples. With Xander on board and me back to one hundred percent, this company
will turn around so quickly.” Javier sat back on the sofa like a man content because
he was. Well, almost. Just one more possible—albeit beautiful—obstacle. Javier gave
London a reassuring gaze. “And then there’s you. As sorry as I am for the danger I
unwittingly put you in, I’m glad that sordid business of revenge and espionage is
behind us. You will never be in danger again, I promise.”

“We’ll make sure of it,” Xander assured.

“Sounds like everything is working out for you two.” London sent them a wan smile.

“For
us
,” his younger brother insisted. “We want to talk to you,
belleza
. None of this works without you.”

“
We
don’t work without you.” Javier had no trouble being emphatic; he spoke the truth.
“The three of us have a . . . symbiotic relationship. Neither Xander nor I were doing
well without you, little one. I was well on my way to drinking myself to death and—”

“Were you pining for Francesca?” London frowned.

She ought to know better, and Javier had to look London in the eye. He couldn’t be
less than honest. “No. I felt guilty. All the ‘ifs’ assailed me constantly. If I’d
been more interested in her, if I’d been more attentive, if I could have scraped together
enough feeling to truly care, if I’d divorced her when I should have, would she be
alive today? Maybe. Probably. I will never know the answer for sure. But I know you’ve
helped to heal me, taken away my shame, and replaced it with something so pure and
wonderful.” He smiled wryly, then looked at Xander. “And we all know that, before
we met you, he was drowning in boobs and pus—”