“I’ll never get it out of my head. Never. If there hadn’t been a healer at the shelter …” His arm tightened around her. “I thought having my enforcers follow you would be enough to keep you safe.”
“They tried to warn me. They helped Aspen get me inside. I’m grateful they were there.”
Pulling back, Tate stared down at her, and the lines of his face smoothed out … as if the sight of her relaxed him somehow. “We’ll get that fucker. Gideon and anyone else connected to the auction.”
“I know.” Because nothing else was acceptable to her or her devil. She tried stepping back, but he didn’t release her. “I really need to go shower. You’re welcome to wait in the kitchen or living—”
“Don’t,” he said, his voice low. “Don’t try to send me away. You’ve held your shit together well, and maybe you’re truly not shaken by what happened earlier. But I still don’t want you to be alone right now.”
In truth, Havana was a little shaken. Not because she’d been shot, but because she’d almost died. It had all happened so damn fast that she hadn’t really processed that she’d been shot—the darkness swallowed her before she had the chance to realize that she was going to die. And it didn’t help to know that danger still lurked in the shadows and could again reach for her at any moment. Still … “I won’t fall apart.”
“It wouldn’t make you weak if you did. And although you probably won’t have an emotional crash, I’d still rather you weren’t alone. I want you to know you have someone here with you. I want you to feel as safe as you possibly can.”
Havana could see he meant it. He wasn’t just spouting whatever might make her agree to let him stay. He was genuinely concerned and wanted to be close by. It was important to him that she didn’t feel unsteady or alone. And it galled her that it touched her, just as it galled her that he did make her feel safe—he always had.
If he’d tried to boss her into letting him stay, she could have stood firm against it. She could have ordered him out without a qualm. But whenever this big, strong, badass Alpha male went all sweet on her … her defenses just went poof. “Look, I get that—”
“No, you don’t get what’s happening here. Not yet. But you will once we’ve talked. That can wait until after you’ve showered.”
“Once we’ve talked? Talked about what?”
His fingertips dug into her nape as he massaged the muscle there. “There’s a lot I need to explain. A lot you need to know.”
“So tell me.”
“I’ll lay it all out for you once you’ve done what you’re desperate to do, which is to wash the day away. What I have to say can wait.”
“Just tell me this: is it something bad?”
He traced the shell of her ear with his finger. “No, nothing bad. Things have changed for me. In a good way. I swear, I’ll explain everything soon. First, shower.”
Havana crushed the hope that tried to blossom in her stomach. She wasn’t going to let her thoughts run away with her. She knew better than to allow that.
She also knew better than to let him hang out in her bedroom. This was not him giving her space. But she didn’t want to throw him out. She wanted to hear what he had to say. If she sent him away, she’d spend the rest of the day wondering what he would have said.
Havana sighed. “All right. Wait here.” She kicked off her shoes and padded into the en suite bathroom … and realized he was following her.
She turned, about to order him out. But the words got trapped in her throat when he whipped off his shirt. Damn, the guy had muscle to burn. And, Jesus, those abs were just perfection. Then there was the spectacularly defined V of his hips …
He was far hotter than any man had a right to be. She didn’t think the sheer impact of all that deliciousness would ever ease up. Not ever.
She was so busy ogling him that she didn’t snap out of it until he gathered the edges of her stained tee. She gripped his arms, thinking it would not be good for them to be naked together. “Wait, you—”
“I’m not going to try to fuck you. I just want to take care of you. Let me,” he said, his voice low—an order couched as a request. He slowly peeled off her tee and dropped it on the floor. And although she told herself she should put a stop to this, she didn’t protest when he removed the rest of her clothes, or when he finished undressing. Nor did she protest when he herded her into the shower, soaped her down, and washed her hair.