She moved quickly around him and did just that. Reluctantly. Straight home, to her room, to her bed, eyes closed and vibrator running as she fought to ease the craving for Sax’s touch.
Sax breathed out roughly, as she did just as he suggested—she ran. He was growing tired of this. She was more skittish now than she had ever been before. And it broke his heart. He could see the yearning, the pain in her eyes, and wanted nothing more than to ease it. To love her until the pain vanished and the happiness shone through, as it did with Ella.
Dammit, he wanted her to choose, and there lay the bitter truth. He didn’t want to force her to accept him, he didn’t want to overcome her objections or override her shyness and fears. He wanted her to come to him. Arrogance? He snorted at that thought. Probably. But she had been running for so damned long that it was starting to grate on his ego.
“She’ll stop running, Sax. ” Ella stepped from the office she had been meeting Marey in, her voice concerned, compassionate. “Sometimes she gets stubborn and you just have to let her wear herself down. ”
A smile quirked his lips. Ella had been defending her friend for months now. That had begun about the same time James had informed him that Ella had refused to participate in another ménage with him.
“I’ve waited a long time, Ella,” he breathed out wearily. “I’m going to get tired of waiting soon. When I do, she might have more to worry about than Vince. She’s going to have to worry about me. ”
Ella ducked her head, though he caught the amused curve of her lips.
“It’s something that perhaps you should consider,” she finally said as she raised her head, her gaze direct then, somber. “Marey doesn’t always reach out for what she wants, Sax. She’s too used to having it jerked away, just as she’s
within reach of it. ”
He wanted her to come to him. She had asked him, pleaded with him years before to leave her alone, to stop his campaign to seduce her, to hold her. He had promised himself then that when the time came, it would be Marey’s decision. Perhaps that was where he had made his mistake. He hadn’t known then the things he knew now. Her determination to hold herself aloof, to ensure she never lost anyone, nor was betrayed again.
He pushed his hand into the pocket of his slacks as he stared back at Ella, seeing the confident, sensual, loving woman she had become over the past year. She had run from James for nearly a decade, just as stubborn and determined as her friend was. She was happy now, glowing with it. Could he fill Marey’s eyes with the same satisfaction, that glow of a woman confident and well satisfied with what she found in her lover’s arms?
He lowered his head, staring at the rose carpet of the outer office as he fought to restrain the impulses that had been rising inside him for weeks now. After Vince’s attack on her, he hadn’t wanted her to feel as though she was confronting another extreme situation, a man unable to let go.
Perhaps instead of giving her the space to find the answers, he was doing as Ella suggested instead. Giving her a chance to hide. Marey didn’t need to hide anymore. She had been hiding for far too long.
Chapter Four
Someone was in the house.
Marey jerked up in bed later that night, terrified as she heard the sound downstairs. What the hell was it? Why hadn’t her alarm gone off?
There it was again. She blinked in the darkness. Was that a whistle? She stared into the dark bedroom, her heart racing, the sound echoing in her ears as she fought to wake up, to make sense of the sudden panic ripping through her again.
The new alarm system was supposed to be foolproof. Alerting the police and sounding a wail that would raise the dead if the house was breached. Evidently, it wasn’t as secure as the salesman had promised her.
There it was again. It was a whistle. And she knew that sound. The grating little tune was one Vince was fond of. He would sound it for hours at a time, working himself into a rage as he did so. It always heralded another accusation, another rage, and in those final weeks of their marriage, another physical blow against her.
Shit. She jumped from the bed, jerking her robe on as she grabbed her cell phone from the bed and punched in the sheriff’s number. This was insane. How the hell had he managed to get through the alarm and into the house? And why was he being so stupid?
“Sheriff’s office. ” The dispatcher answered on the first ring.
“Janey, it’s Marey Dumont,” she snapped, her voice low. “Vince has broken into the house. ”
She had gone to school with Janey, knew her husband and her kids. None of them liked Vince. Not that she could blame them.
“Stay with me, Marey, I’ll get someone on the way out there. ”
Marey listened as Janey’s voice became more distant, imperative, as she called in the report.
“I have a car on the way, Marey,” she came back, her voice calm, cool. “I want you to stay on the phone with me, honey, till they get there. You say the alarm didn’t go off?”
“Not a peep,” she whispered. “I just happened to wake up when he made a sound downstairs. I don’t know how he got through. ”
It didn’t make sense. Vince wasn’t the brightest light in the house, and electronically, his skills were nil. He would have needed the code to the gates as well as the door.
There was a crash downstairs.
“You fucking whore!” Vince screamed from the bottom of the stairs then, as something else could be heard shattering against a wall. Dammit, he was breaking her vases, she thought miserably. She had paid a lot of money for those damned things. Her insurance company was going to scream.