Lips tightly compressed, she inched to the fallen faux plant that had once stood tall, shading the bay window. She unscrewed the vacuous bottom. Upon seeing that his box still rested there, she released a relieved, battered breath and blinked up at him. “It’s still here.” She paused. “Wait. My computer!” Cheeks paling even more, Julia shoved the box back into the planter, rescrewed the lid and leapt to her feet.
She raced from the living chamber, ducking limbs, and into her office, only to find equal devastation. All of her business files and account books were strewn across the floor, knocked over by the tree’s long arms. Her computer was smashed, her newest inventory damaged beyond repair. Horror radiated from her.
She blinked back the sting of tears as Tristan draw near. He didn’t utter a word. Staying behind her, he anchored his arms around her waist, tracing his palms over her stomach, stopping just under her breasts. He rested his chin atop her head, and she felt the ripple of his breath against her hair. “How could something like this have happened?”
“Julia.” Tristan stroked her hair, kissed the sensitive edge of her ear, all the while murmuring words of comfort.
“I don’t understand this,” she said, closing her eyes to block out the destruction.
“Some people let darkness fill their souls,” he answered, locking one arm under her knees and supporting her back with the other. He picked her up and carried her to the bedroom. She didn’t protest when he laid her down on the mattress and removed her dress. After gathering the covers from the floor, he tucked the soft material around her trembling frame, placed a soft kiss on her forehead and turned to leave.
“Tristan,” she whispered, stopping him. “Where are you going?” The thick foliage offered a shadowy canopy.
“I wish to clear the mess.”
“Will you stay and hold me?”
“Aye, draga. Whatever you desire.” The bed dipped as he eased in beside her and gathered her close, every hollow and curve of her body fitting snuggly against him. Her scent mingled with his, becoming theirs—becoming necessary. He breathed deeply. “I know not what I can say to end your torment, but I will help you forget this happened. I swear it.”
CHAPTER TWENTY
Ask For Permission Before You Do Anything
SOMEWHERE IN HER conscious mind, Julia heard a loud crack of thunder and the beat of rain against her window. The sleepy fog clouding her thoughts began to clear. And perhaps it was because of the softness of the mattress, or perhaps because Tristan’s masculine scent enveloped her senses, but whatever the reason, her mind began to catalog all of her secret desires.
Make love with Tristan—him on top
Get a tattoo. Something sexy
Make love with Tristan—her on top
Skinny-dip. With Tristan
Make love with Tristan—him behind her
Wait. Him behind her… A warm male body did indeed press against her backside. She snuggled deeper into him, remembering she had asked Tristan to sleep in her bed. But as she lay there, her body began to tingle, to want. She cracked open her eyelids. Sunlight forced its way into the bedroom, unwanted and unforgiving. Warm breath caressed her neck, and a bronze, muscled arm draped over her hip. She combatted the urge to slip his hand lower, until he touched her where she suddenly ached for him, where moisture pooled between her legs.
“At last Beauty awakens from her slumber,” Tristan said, his sleep-rich voice purring along her spine. “After all that happened, I feared you would be unable to rest.”
The tree…the little jaunt to Imperia… I don’t want to remember. Get up. Do something. Blinking back the lingering cloud of sleep, she jumped from the bed. There was nothing she could do about the unplanned, otherworldly trip, but she could take care of her house.
She marched into the bathroom, where she brushed her teeth, changed into clean undergarments, a T-shirt and a pair of sweat pants. She would clean every room, cut down the tree and perhaps notify her insurance company to replace broken items. Or not. She still had no idea how she could explain the sudden appearance of a full grown tree in her living room.
Seductive as always, Tristan stretched and eased up as soon as she emerged. His eyes were rimmed with shadows, as if he hadn’t really slept at all. “Where are you going?” he asked, his voice scratchy.
Caught up in the trials awaiting her, Julia didn’t spare him another glance. “I need to organize and clean. I can’t afford to close the store tomorrow, so everything needs to be taken care of today.”
“There is nothing you need do now except climb back into this bed, draga.”
“Look,” she said and sighed, “I don’t have time for sex. Everything I had in this house is ruined, and I need to clear and catalog the damage.”
As she strode through the house, murky sunlight flittered through the open curtains. Another round of thunder boomed. Julia halted midstep, flabbergasted. The floors gleamed with a fresh coat of polish. Every counter and cabinet was dusted and clean. Except for a few missing antiques, an absent TV, and a few holes in the walls, each room looked perfectly normal. A rug covered what remained of the tree stump.
Confused and shocked, she plopped down on the kitchen stool. She hadn’t dreamed the destruction, hadn’t imagined it, either. That meant… Tristan had cleared away the damage as she’d slept. She hadn’t ordered him to do it; he’d simply taken it upon himself.
How unbelievably sweet. She wanted to cry.
No one had ever treated her with such kindness, and knowing he cared enough to do this for her caused heart to swell with longing, tenderness and…love.
I love him. The realization hit her with the force of a baseball bat, rattling her brain against her skull. She loved him. Loved everything about him. He wasn’t perfect, but he was perfect for her.
Girls like us—
Julia shook her head, dislodging the memory of her mother’s words. Girls like Julia…were
