Page 89 of Dangerous Mission

I carefully move toward the bed. “Do you want me to?—”

“I want you to hold me.”

Letting out a held breath, I reach for her. Wrapping my hand around the nape of her neck, resting my thumb below her chin. “Let me see those beautiful eyes.”

She blinks slowly, then looks up at me. Those big luminous browns are going to be the end of me.

“Talk to me.”

“I thought I was ready to have sex. I guess I’m not.”

Dropping to my knee in front of her, I reach for her wrists and turn them both over.

“Are these related to what just happened?”

“Yes.”

Protectiveness thrums through my body. “Someone hurt you while having sex?”

Her bottom lip turns in and she pinches it with her teeth hard enough to chase the color out. “I’m not sure I’m ready to talk about this.”

When I lift one of her wrists to my lips and kiss the pulsepoint she shivers.

“Tell me who.”

She shakes her head tightly. “It doesn’t matter.”

Fuck if it doesn’t.

“Does your brother know?”

She freezes, her throat works as she loudly swallows. “God no, he would commit murder.”

He’s not the only one.

I try to breathe through the need for vengeance that’s swirling inside of me. “Did you tell the police?”

Closing her eyes, she sits frozen.

“Sweetheart, did you tell the cops someone hurt you?”

“No.”

Christ.

I stroke my thumbs over her wrists. “Did you get counseling?”

“Yeah.”

Thank fuck.

“What did he do?”

She quickly pulls her wrists away from me.

Fucking hell. I bound her. I tied her wrists when someone clearly hurt her.

“Did some motherfucker cut you?”