Despite the fact Laila knew his rejection was coming, it was crushing her.

  Trees’s big feet were surprisingly light on the stairs as he descended. She sipped more of her water as she watched him appear. First, his boots became visible, then his muscled legs, clad in denim. Next, his narrow hips, followed by his lean, corrugated middle, obvious even through his T-shirt.

  Laila’s heart began to race. As always, being near him thrilled her, but this time she feared the harsh words he would use to dismiss her.

  When she caught sight of his massive shoulders and the dark tip of his close-cropped beard, she lost her nerve to meet his gaze and bowed her head.

  In the past, she had stared down drug lords, murderers, and rapists without flinching because she hadn’t cared what they did. They could hurt her body—and had many times. But they had never touched her heart.

  With one sentence, Trees could utterly decimate her.

  Suddenly, the half of a protein bar she had choked down earlier churned in her stomach, threatening to come back up. Her heart hammered faster, louder, filling her ears when he loped off the last step and crossed the room toward her.

  “Laila?” His gruff whisper twisted her heart.

  She bit her bottom lip, trying so hard not to cry. She failed, tasting blood and defeat. God, she’d never felt more fragile in her life. “I am sorry. Please do not say anything. I know you despise me now and—”

  “Why the hell would you think that?” He hooked his fingers beneath her chin. She resisted, but he forced her face up.

  Laila squeezed her eyes shut tighter, but nothing would hide the fact she was crying. “Do not look at me. I know you are angry, and I bear the responsibility for—”

  “Shh.” He caressed her face so softly, his thumb brushing over her cheek, wiping away her tears. “Listen to me. I’m the one who’s sorry. I didn’t believe you. I didn’t trust you. I tormented you for answers. I was wrong.” He kissed her forehead so softly he made her sob again. “Hey… No more crying. I hate that I hurt you.”

  She pressed his words into her heart. “Please do not tell me what you think I want to hear. I do not want your pity.”

  Trees cupped her face, his touch beyond gentle…but a hint of his other side, the one that had mercilessly strummed her body less than an hour ago, rang in his words. “I don’t pity you, honey. I’m apologizing to you. Now open your eyes and look at me.”

  Laila resisted, but everything about Trees compelled her to comply.

  Slowly, her lashes fluttered open. He filled her vision, his expression achingly soft, his eyes full of remorse. More tears spilled down her cheeks.

  “You believe me?” The question slipped out, and a foolish part of her wished she could take it back. The hopeful, headstrong girl inside her who had faced so much of life alone wanted him forever. But the woman in her—the realist—took over. “Never mind. You do not have to—”

  He placed a finger over her lips. “Yes, I do. I’m sorry, Laila. I fucked up. I was an asshole, and I have no problem admitting it. I hope you can forgive me.”

  “I-I do not understand.”

  “I saw the full video of you and Victor on his phone, including the parts you cut off, so I know what really happened. I know the lengths you went to in order to save me. I’m just sorry I didn’t believe you.”

  Laila felt her eyes widen—and hope fill her heart…even as it shattered. “I had given you no reason to. I only meant to protect you, but…”

  “I know you did.” His expression gentled even more. “You risked everything to keep me safe, the way you do for your family. And I love you for that.”

  “I have seen Victor and his minions kill people horribly for even the smallest slight, so after you killed his brother and risked everything to protect me, I shudder to imagine what he would do to you. I do not want to live in a world without you.”

  “Oh, honey…you don’t have to.” Then he scowled at her. “But if you ever sacrifice yourself for me again like that, I will make the orgasm deprivation you suffered tonight seem like an easy-breezy paradise—right before I blister your ass. Are we clear?”

  She looked away again, trying to understand her two very different reactions. Her feverish body, desperate for the relief only he could give her, flushed hot and began to throb. Why she should be aroused by his threats of punishment was something she still did not comprehend.

  Right behind that response came the opposite reaction. Giving up wasn’t in her vocabulary, mostly because she knew they weren’t out of danger. They might never be. If cutting out her heart and leaving him now would keep Trees safe and alive, Laila would do it. But he was in too deep. Both Victor and Montilla knew he was involved. She and Trees were safer together. And it was selfish, some part of her was glad.

  “You expect me to do nothing because I am female? Because I am smaller?” She shook her head. “If I can save you, I always will.”

  Trees sighed. “I know you’re a fighter. You’ve had to be. But it’s my role to save you.” When she opened her mouth to rebut him, he held up a hand. “How about I make you a deal? If I need rescuing and no one else can do it, you can—as long as you don’t put yourself in danger, okay? And if you ever concoct another scheme to put down the bad guys, talk to me first. Your plan might have succeeded if you’d had trained operatives, backup, weapons, equipment… But you’re never my first line of defense. Do you understand?”

  It went against her grain to back down, but Laila grasped what he was saying. He had a whole team behind him, and as a well-trained warrior, he wanted to do his job. He was merely asking her to respect that.

  “Yes.”

  His smile transformed his face and brightened up her world. “Good. Now come here to me.”

  He scooped her up in his arms, blanket and all, and headed for the stairs.

  “What are you doing?”

  “I’m going to take care of you, honey. The way I should have all along.” He nudged the door open wider with his shoulder, ducking to avoid the hanging rack in his closet, and kicked the opening closed behind them. Then he carried her through his bedroom, to the dining room table, where he set her in a chair, wrapped the blanket tighter to ward off the chill, and dropped a soft kiss to her lips. “First, I’m going to feed you.”

  “That is not necessary.”

  Trees sent her a quelling stare. “It is. You’ve barely eaten. What sounds good?”

  The fact he wanted to feed her, nurture and take care of her choked her up. No one had done that for her since childhood. The pesky tears stung her eyes again. “Whatever you want.”

  He came closer, brows a disapproving slash as he crouched beside her. “It’s not about me. Right now, I’m here for you, and you deserve to have what you want. Tell me.”

  Despite the blanket, she was cold to the bone. Tired, too. She wanted something warm and comforting. “Soup?”

  “What kind? Everything I have will come out of a can, but…” He poked his head in his pantry and rattled off more than a dozen flavors.

  “Gumbo. I have never had that.”

  Trees smiled. An hour ago, when he had been withholding orgasms and demanding answers, he had looked intimidating, severe…yet so sexy her body ached. Now, the warm welcome on his face sent her heart fluttering.

  “Until I moved here, I’d never had it, either,” he told her in a conspiratorial murmur. “The stuff out of a can is passable. If you like that, someday I’ll take you to a restaurant I’ve found that makes downright amazing gumbo.”

  Would they be together that long? Would they even be alive? Would it be safe enough to go on something like a date?

  Laila shook the question away. He was merely making small talk, so she nodded and smiled. “I would enjoy that. Where did you live before here? What was your family like?”

  He paused, looking reluctant. It was odd that she knew Trees’s capabilities, habits, and predilections but nothing about his past.

  “I’m from West Virginia. Grew up dirt poor. A coal miner’s kid, the oldest of eight. I’m not close to my family.”

  “Why?”

  “We…drifted apart, I guess. My parents were always working to make ends meet and raise my siblings. Not much else to say.” He shrugged. “I left when I joined the service at eighteen. That’s where I met Zy. We went through some really hairy shit together, both on US soil and overseas. I eventually got out, heard about this private security firm in Lafayette that needed a tech guy, made a few calls…and here I am.”

  She got the feeling the story was more complicated, but that was another conversation for another day. While they’d been talking, he’d heated up the gumbo in a saucepan and poured it in a bowl, then shaken some chips from a bag onto a side plate. He brought the food to her, along with a spoon, followed by a napkin and another bottle of water.

  As the soup steamed, he tossed together a sandwich. “Eat up, little one. Want some roast beef, too?”

  “No, thank you.” She dipped her spoon in the dark reddish broth and tried a bite full of chicken, rice, and tang. Flavor burst on her tongue. It was spicy, but different than the foods she’d grown up with.

  “You like it?”

  “Very much.”

  He carried his sandwich to the table and sat beside her, then he dragged her chair closer. As she yelped, he lifted her onto his lap and maneuvered her food in front of her.

  “What are you doing?” She turned to him in confusion.

  Trees wrapped his arms around her and pressed a kiss to her bared shoulder. “Holding you and keeping you warm. Eat up.”

  Laila didn’t protest, just dug into her food, wrapped in his warmth and their oddly comfortable silence. Soon, he’d consumed his whole sandwich, along with an orange he grabbed off the nearby counter. She had barely managed half her soup and a few bites of chips before she felt full.

  When she pushed her bowl away, he cradled her closer. “Full?”

  His voice rumbled in her ear, and she settled her head against him, eyes drifting shut in contentment. “Yes.”

  “Good.” He stood, lifting her with him, then headed for his bedroom.

  She froze. “Are you returning me to the dungeon?”

  “No. I’m taking care of you tonight. No man ever has. I’d like to be the first.”

  He was going to make her cry again. Every time she thought he couldn’t make her love him more, he did. “What about the dishes?”

  “I’ll do them later. And don’t you dare try that BS of bartering for your food.”

  Without meaning to, her refusal to owe him had insulted him. Since Laila couldn’t take it back, she merely shook her head. “Not a word. Thank you.”

  Trees carried her into the master bathroom and set her on her feet. “You’re welcome.”

  Then he took her face in his hands and kissed her softly, removing the blanket from around her shoulders and tossing it out the door and across his massive bed. She stood naked, still aware of her cheeks heating, her nipples pebbling, her sex throbbing as Trees consumed her visually. “What are you doing?”

  “Taking care of what’s mine, Laila.” Then he turned on the faucet in the enormous shower and shed his clothes one garment at a time, his eyes never leaving hers, until he wore absolutely nothing but a smile.

  Blinking, she drank in his shoulders that were nearly as wide as the doorframe, tapering down to his ridged middle, narrow hips, and strong, tree-trunk legs. The thick stalk of his cock in between stood tall, almost imposing. He was a big man, so it was no surprise he was large everywhere. But he still took her breath away.

  “Trees…” She wrapped her fingers around his erection.

  He shook his head as he took her wrist and lifted her hand away. “No, I’m taking care of you. Step in.”

  Steam rose from the giant enclosure as he opened the door. She filed in. For a reason she didn’t understand, her obedience made him happy. Knowing she had pleased him made her happy in return.

  He cupped her shoulders and settled her under the warm spray. As she tipped her head back, water splashed over her face and sluiced down her body. Her chill receded. A moan slipped from her throat.

  Trees leaned in and settled his mouth over hers in a slow slide of a kiss that seemed to last forever. He was in no rush, made no demand for her to take him deeper. Instead, he seemed content simply to be near her, to breathe her in, to share this tick of the clock with her.

  The moment felt profound. They didn’t exchange words. Yes, they had more to discuss, but it was as if they both realized nothing was more important than connecting.

  Laila sighed and gave herself over to him, gladly drowning in the warm water and his hot flesh around her. In his scent, like the forest filled with damp earth. In the desire only he had ever filled her with, bestowing it every time he touched her.

  Until Trees, she had hated having a man’s hands on her. She had never known what it was to be treasured. He had coaxed her body, teaching her to enjoy his caresses that gave her untold pleasure. Now she felt herself mentally falling to his feet and surrendering to whatever tender demands would please him.

  But instead of deepening the kiss, he backed away, brushing wet strands from her upturned face before he grabbed a bottle from a small corner shelf and dumped a dollop of shampoo into his hand. “Come here, little one.”

  She trembled when he called her that. Instead of a jab about her height, as she’d first thought, the soft way he verbally stroked the syllables told her it was an endearment. Immediately, she complied.

  “Good girl,” he praised before he kissed the tip of her nose. “Close your eyes.”

  Obeying took more of her trust. But Laila reminded herself that, not only was there plenty of light in the bathroom but this was Trees. Even when he’d suspected her of conspiring with Victor to kill him, he hadn’t hurt her. Set her body on fire with throbbing need for him, yes. But he hadn’t raised his hand or his voice. He certainly hadn’t punished her in any of the vile, cruel ways Victor and his brother had over the years. She was in good hands.

  Laila let her eyes slide shut.

  He kissed each lid softly, reverently. “So very good. Now just enjoy.”

  She had no idea what he meant until he worked his fingers through her hair and began sudsing her scalp with strong, slow circles. She moaned, swaying on her feet as his touch made her pliant and boneless.

  Peace seeped into her. It was momentary, she knew. But so welcome.

  Though Laila ached to see Trees, drink in his expression while he touched her with such reverence, she didn’t want to disappoint him. Instead, she kept her eyes shut and focused herself on him, his touch, his scent, his breathing. And she felt him, not with her eyes but with her senses. She didn’t have to see his face to know he was pleased. And his approval was a pleasure all its own.

  “God, you’re so beautiful, Laila,” he murmured against her lips, then dipped to kiss her again, as his long, strong fingers worked at her hairline, cleansed her crown, then lowered to massage her neck.

  She pooled into a melted puddle, sighing his name like a benediction. “Trees…”

  “I would love to pamper you every day. The world hasn’t shown you the kind of love you deserve. But I can. If you let me, honey, I will.” He settled her under the spray and rinsed her hair, his fingers gently working their way through the curly mass until it felt clean.

  Before she knew what he was about, he squeezed the excess water from her tresses, then doused the ends in something that smelled like coconut. “Let that sit for a few minutes.”

  “Can I open my eyes?”

  “Are you all right? Or nervous? Scared?”

  “I am”—she sighed, smiling in the direction of his voice—“happy.”

  “Good. Keep your eyes closed. I want to show you that I could make you happy every day.”

  Words like that warmed the corners of her heart, which she’d been sure would be dark forever. It sounded as if he saw a future for them beyond this dangerous life dictated by cartels and plagued by violence. It was a beautiful fantasy. But she couldn’t let herself think beyond tonight, beyond the pleasure of his tender touch. Killers and drug lords were still waiting to tear them apart, but they had this moment. Laila basked in it.

  “That sounds perfect.”

  “There’s nothing I want more,” he vowed, then he fell silent.

  Laila did, too, not wanting reality to intrude on their idyll.

  Moments later, Trees added to her paradise by spreading a citrus-smelling soap across her skin with his hands, starting with her neck, then working down to her shoulders and her breasts, where he paused to pay special attention to her nipples now hardening as he slid his thumbs across the sensitive peaks. When he wrung a moan out of her, he caressed his way over her ribs, down her stomach, then dropped his hand to cup her mound.

  With a single touch, her earlier desire rushed back to tingling life. Her breath caught. She clung to his shoulders, unsteady on her feet as his fingers dipped between her folds and he slid a finger over her nerve-rich nubbin…

  “Oh,” she moaned out, digging her nails into his solid biceps.

  “Your pussy is still so swollen and sensitive. I love the way you respond to me.” He tapped her left thigh. “Raise this leg.”

  Without thought, without hesitation, she did.

  “Excellent,” he crooned as he positioned it to the side and gently released her, resting her foot on the tiled bench in the corner and giving him unfettered access to her female flesh, growing more and more slick by the minute.

  “What should I do now?”

  “Feel everything I’m going to do to you, come when I ask you to, and enjoy.”

  Then he rinsed the soap. The bubbles cascaded down her skin, seeming to tickle every sensitive spot along the way, until every inch of her felt clean and new.

  Trees bent his head to her, taking her mouth in a sweeping kiss of tongues and slow passion—except that insistent hand between her legs, circling and thumbing the needy bud now throbbing again. He groaned. His breathing roughened. He inhaled her as he filled her needy sex with his fingers, making her gasp and hold on tighter.