She couldn’t move. She was going to die and she couldn’t fight back. . .couldn’t scream. . .
“Wake up! Sunny, wake up!”
She opened her eyes with a gasp to find herself sitting in someone’s lap. A soft light shone in the room. She shook, sweat coating her skin. The scent of leather and man surrounded her.
Duke. She was safe with Duke.
“Fuck, baby. Fuck.” He kissed the top of her head, holding onto her tight as he rocked her back and forth. “I woke up to you thrashing around and then you let out this scream that made my blood go cold. Christ. Fuck. Scared the shit out of me.”
“Sorry. Sorry,” she muttered as she grasped hold of Duke. “I was frozen in my dream. I couldn’t make a sound and the knife was coming towards me.” She gulped back a sob. “There was no face, just this dark, gaping hole. It was terrifying.”
“It’s all right. You’re safe. I have you. I’m not going to let anything happen to you.” He held her for a long time, murmuring soft words to her that she could barely make out, but still soothed her.
“Thirsty,” she muttered.
He picked up of a bottle of water. She reached for it, but he held it to her mouth himself, sliding her back a little so she was reclined. She was too tired to protest; she just took a few sips as he held her like a baby having a bottle.
Finally, she pulled away from him, feeling slightly embarrassed. “I’ve got to go to the bathroom. I need a shower.”
“It’s still early, you should go back to sleep.”
She shook her head. “I don’t think I can.”
“All right, baby girl. You go shower and I’ll make us some pancakes for breakfast.” He tilted up her chin. “You’re safe with me, Sunny. I know I didn’t protect you yesterday but that won’t happen again.”
“It wasn’t your fault.”
Determination filled his face. “It won’t happen again.”
17
She settled on the couch after eating the pancakes and drinking several cups of coffee. Duke walked into the living room, carrying her hairbrush.
Was he going to brush her hair? His face looked awfully serious as he studied her. And then he switched off the television.
Uh-oh.
“How you feeling, little rebel?”
> She sat up straight. “I’m all right.”
“Sore? Anything hurt from yesterday?”
She shook her head. “You inspected every inch of me. I’m not even bruised.”
He nodded solemnly. “You remember the punishment you’re owed?”
She froze then turned to stare at him. “P-punishment?”
He raised his hand up and started ticking things off with his fingers. “You threw a tantrum over getting the stock order wrong. Called yourself names. Ran at the man with a knife rather than away from him.”
“I didn’t know he had a knife,” she muttered.
“You knew he had something he was using to scratch up my truck. You should have turned back and run to me. If Marv hadn’t been there. . .” he trailed off, looking ill.
“Yeah, I know,” she whispered.
“Like I’ve said before, babe. Your safety, number one priority to me. You risk it, you’ll wish you hadn’t once I get my hands on your butt.”