“It’s not your fault he hit you, Kira.”
She nodded but only looked slightly convinced. “I think I’d just like to take a long, hot bath and get cleaned up. Maybe order dinner in…”
I understood; she was asking to be alone. “Yeah. Of course. I’ll go get settled in the other room.” Kira nodded and I moved to the door separating her room from the rest of the suite, picking up my overnight bag from the floor where I’d left it. I would have liked to make myself comfortable in the room she was sleeping in, but after what happened with Kira’s father and her ex-fiancé, I knew this was not the time to push my physical agenda on her. I felt a new sense of guilt for trying to push anything on her at all—it was suddenly obvious she’d had enough of that for one lifetime.
“Oh, and, Grayson,” she said, turning halfway toward me. “Thank you for what you said to my father about me being your wife.”
I paused. “You are my wife.”
Her lips tipped very slightly. “You know what I mean. You made it sound like I was your real wife. It was very convincing.”
I frowned but wasn’t sure what to say. It was true—she wasn’t my wife in any real sense. If she were, I would know what to do right now to clear that haunted look in her eyes. Instead, I only nodded. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
I went into my room and took a shower, washing the road dust from my body and trying to cleanse the feel of the confrontation with Kira’s father from my mind. Everything in me had wanted to punch Frank Dallaire in his face when he’d slapped Kira. But I’d held back. Assaulting someone would only send me back to prison and I wouldn’t risk it. In that way, the incident had served to remind me of my shame, brought home my limitations as a man. If I needed to, how would I even fight for my woman now? My woman. No, perhaps Kira wasn’t my woman in that sense, but the point still held weight.
I tilted my head toward the water and let it run over my face, moving my mind back to Frank Dallaire. I’d never paid a whole lot of attention to San Francisco politics, but I’d perceived him to be a well-liked mayor, tough but fair, a friend to minorities and the middle class. I guess it just went to show what a farce politics could be, full of lies and double-speak. I found it hard to believe a man who treated his beautiful daughter so abominably was much of a real friend to anyone but himself.
And now he was my temporary father-in-law. God, what had I gotten myself involved in? I could only hope Kira was right—he’d put some spin on it for the public if need be and let us both go about our business. Why did I have a bad feeling that wouldn’t be the case?
I stepped from the shower, dried off, and then got dressed and went to sit on the balcony for a little while. I wondered what Kira was doing in the other room. I couldn’t help but picture her naked body submerged in water, her skin slick and wet, that wild hair falling in disarray from whatever clip she’d used to hold it back. Heat surged in my veins, but at the same time, I wanted to take her in my arms and soothe the hurt and embarrassment I’d seen on her face as I’d left the room. I was surprised and slightly troubled by these feelings, aware of the complications they potentially posed. But sitting there, something powerful gripped me. Yes, I still felt a masculine desire to possess her physically. To kiss her, to taste her, to push inside her. But now it was also combined with that same protectiveness I’d felt a few days before when I’d cared for her.
Stop this. Stop this right now.
But I couldn’t help it. I wanted to put that bright light back in her eyes, to comfort her, see that bewitching little dimple. I leaned my head back and let out a groan. I had to rein myself in. None of that was in the agreement. We had started this marriage as a business arrangement and even if we gave in to our attraction to one another, it had to remain on those terms. We were married—our relationship had to be all or nothing. We couldn’t wade into the murkiness of something undefined. It wouldn’t end well for either of us. Knowing about Rosa Maria and her father, I had a little more understanding about her hesitance to get involved with me. She probably saw a physical relationship between us as little more than what they’d had. And in all honesty, it was exactly what I’d proposed. Was that what I really wanted?
Confusion swirled within me. Perhaps I should abandon the idea of satisfying my physical need for her now that I could admit there was more involved than just sexual attraction, now that I could admit I cared about her as a person. But for some reason I always seemed to lose control around her and all my best intentions went out the window. And I still couldn’t understand exactly why. What was it about her that unbalanced me so much?
I let out a sigh. Maybe I should stop thinking about my own turmoil and consider that what she really needed right now was a friend. And so, tonight at least, all that other stuff should go by the wayside.
After looking over the room service menu and putting in an order to be delivered to our suite, I knocked on the door to her bedroom. She answered wearing a pair of jeans and a black top, her feet bare and her hair still partially wet. Her face was free of makeup and she looked very beautiful and very young. Of course, she was very young, only twenty-two. I didn’t think about her age very often, perhaps because sometimes she acted like a naughty child and sometimes she seemed so very wise. And of course, those glimpses of depth and insight had only served to make her more interesting to me. I entered, inhaling the light flowery scent that was hers.
“Hi,” she said, eyeing me suspiciously.
“I took the liberty of ordering dinner for us,” I said, entering her room though I hadn’t been invited. “I know you like Charlotte’s beef stroganoff. I’m sure the chef here isn’t nearly as good as her, but…” I shrugged.
Kira looked slightly unsure, but then let out a breath, obviously acquiescing. “That sounds good. Thank you. Although I might not be the best company.”
She turned and walked back toward the balcony, where she stood looking out over the city. I joined her, leaning my forearms on the metal rail and looking over at her. She looked away, tilting her chin down as if attempting to hide her face from me.
“Hey,” I said gently, turning toward her. I used my fingers to nudge her chin toward me. Her eyes were shining with unshed tears. She sucked in a sharp breath, a tiny sob coming up her throat. I pulled her into my arms, tucking her head under my chin. “Shh,” I said, “it’s okay.” My throat felt tight as her body tensed in my arms, like she didn’t know how to be held. God, growing up with no mother and a father like that, she probably didn’t. I had only slightly more to draw upon but enough to take the lead.
“Kira,” I whispered, “relax. Let me hold you, sweetheart.” She struggled weakly for a brief moment, but when I tightened my arms around her, she sagged into me and gave way to her tears.
Kira sobbed in my arms, her face buried in my chest for a long while. Finally, her sobs began to abate, and she raised her face to me. The tenderness that pulsed in my chest was unlike anything I’d ever felt before. Again, it concerned me, but I pushed my feelings aside and brushed my thumb across Kira’s soft cheek, wiping away the wetness of her tears. I smoothed her hair back from her face. “It’s okay,” I said. “I’m here. I’ve got you.”