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“Him. That—motherfucker.” It’s difficult to say his name out loud. To acknowledge his existence. “Did. He.Hurt.You?” I nod toward her robe. “Take it off.”

Her fingers curl around the ends of the belt. “Perry—”

I interrupt her. “Do it, Charlotte. I need to see you.”

Lifting her chin, she undoes the belt, pushing the robe away and revealing her naked body. My gaze roams, not sure where to settle first. Drinking in all that pale, creamy skin. So far, so good. She’s unmarked.

She shrugs the robe off so it falls to the floor and that’s when I see it. The bruises. Three of them on her upper right arm, in the shape of fingers. Where he gripped her. Forced her out of the lobby maybe. Or when he dragged her into his shitty apartment. Because come on, it can’t be that great, the apartment he held her captive in.

Know what else isn’t great? The fact that this asshole hurt my wife. Bruised her. He’s going to pay.

And it won’t be pretty.

“Come here,” I demand and she glides toward the tub, stopping directly in front of me. “He marked you.”

Blinking at me in surprise, she glances down at her body. “Where?”

I rise to my feet, towering over her, my fingers drifting across her upper arm where those fucking bruises are. “Here.”

She tilts her head toward her arm, watching me trace each bruise, the fury rising within me about to burst through. I swallow it down, my control on my anger hanging on by a thread. When I press a little harder, she hisses in a breath, and it kills me that I hurt her. “I’m going to kill him.”

Her head lifts, her eyes wide with fear. “Don’t say that. Please. Like I said earlier, we need to let the authorities handle this.”

“Nothing will happen to him if they get involved, Charlotte.” I shake my head, hating how bitter I sound. “Don’t bother arguing with me either, because you know it’s true.”

She rests her hands on my shoulders, her fingers squeezing, easing some of the tension there. “You’re tense.”

“No shit,” I mutter, then immediately shake my head. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you.”

I’m sorry for a lot of other things. I feel like I let this woman down, and I hate that. I hate myself for not being there for her enough.

She’s mine to protect. Mine to watch over and care about. I need to get over my issues and focus on her. Fuck everything else.

Charlotte runs her hands down the front of my chest, and my body automatically responds, my skin growing warm. My muscles getting tight. “I don’t want to talk about him anymore.”

I watch her, overwhelmed with emotion for this woman. How she’s trying to ease my anger when she’s the one who was abducted by a crazed asshole. Reaching out, I rest my hands on her hips, caressing her silky-smooth skin. “You’re right. I don’t want to talk about him either. It’s a waste of breath.”

She nods, her gaze on my chest. “I’m so glad I’m home.”

My heart expands at her calling our place home. “I’m glad you’re home too. I missed you. Worried about you.” I lean in close, pressing my lips to her temple, breathing her in. Savoring the feeling of her in my arms. She scoots closer, resting her head on my chest for the briefest moment before she lifts away.

Her smile is small and she reaches for the loosened tie still around my neck. I never did change out of my suit. “Take a bath with me.”

I frown, glancing over at the mostly full tub. “We won’t both fit.”

“Yes, we will.” Her gaze is imploring. Nothing but big blue eyes eating me up, working her magic on me. “Please. I need you, Perry.”

How can I resist her when she says she needs me?

I can’t.

Within seconds, I’ve shed my clothes and she’s ordering me to step into the bath first. I lean against the back of the tub, spreading my legs so I can accommodate her and then she’s joining me, nestling her naked body flush against mine, her back to my front, her ass nudging against my cock, which is already at half-mast.

Yeah. Can’t think about doing anything like that tonight. She’s exhausted and traumatized and the last thing she’ll want is to have sex with her husband, even though I am her knight in shining armor.

Though maybe I’m not. Maybe I let her down and she’s disappointed I didn’t find her right away…

Charlotte reaches forward and turns off the water, a steady drip still falling from the faucet as she leans back into me, her wiggling ass doing things to me that I try not to focus on.


Tags: Monica Murphy Arranged Marriage Romance