“I thought you might like it.”
“Like it?” She stepped forward, her lips parted while she took it in. “I love it. I’ve never seen anything so inspiring in my life.”
“Inspiring?” An odd choice of phrase.
“Absolutely.” She crossed the clearing and knelt on the moss, sitting back on her heels. “It’s like a faerie glen. And the ground is so soft I could sleep on it.”
He resisted pointing out that she’d end up sick from the damp if she did. “Well, now you know it’s here, you can visit any time.”
She didn’t reply, just gazed out over the water like she’d found her own personal paradise. An insect flitted onto her shoulder, and she didn’t seem to notice. He joined her and swatted it away. Immediately, she flinched, her entire body shrinking from him.
His chest tightened, and it broke his heart that she’d react in such a way to something so simple. His fists clenched, and he itched to rip the head off the guy who’d hurt her, and then, once he’d finished that, he’d stand between her and anything else the world wanted to throw at her.
His jaw firmed. Her eyes had already skittered away, masking her thoughts from him. Her shoulders hunched, and he got the feeling that she wanted him to ignore her slip and pretend it never happened. Well, he couldn’t do that. He may not know the full story, but he could read between the lines.
Lowering himself to the ground, he sat cross-legged beside her. She didn’t look at him.
“I’m sorry for frightening you,” he said, in a voice so gentle he barely recognized it as his own. “There was a bug on your shoulder. I hope you know I’d never hurt you. At least, not intentionally.” She still didn’t say anything, so he continued. “Men who hurt women are scum. I’m sorry for what you’ve experienced, but I want you to know that most men aren’t like that.” His chest rose and fell heavily. “I’mnot like that.”
* * *
Megan looked downat her hands, searching for something to say. “I-I—”
“Shh, it’s okay,” he soothed, like she was one of his rescue pets.
She picked at her cuticle, unsure how to respond. She wasn’t used to people being so direct with her. Not about this. She’d hidden her secrets well, and if anyone had ever guessed, they’d stayed quiet.
“I just want you to know I’m not like that,” he repeated. “I’d never hurt you.”
The aching sweetness of his words, no matter how gruffly delivered, combined with the beauty of the place, brought tears to her eyes, and tangled her insides in a knot. She swallowed past the lump in her throat.
“I know,” she whispered. “I know most people are basically good, and I try to remember that, but it’s still my gut reaction to flinch.” She forced herself to inhale and exhale before her voice became strangled into nothingness. “I wish I could turn it off, but I can’t. It’s going to take a while before I react like a normal person again.”
If she ever did.
Don’t be a pessimist. You’ll get there one day.
“How can I help?” His tone made her turn toward him. His stoic expression had creased, harsh lines bracketing his mouth. He was upset on her behalf. Warmth crept into the corners of her heart.
“I’m not sure you can.”
The lines around his mouth deepened. “How about if I help you acclimate to touch?”
She frowned. That sounded an awful lot like he was coming onto her, and if he was about to put a move on her, she wasn’t in the mood. “How did you intend to do that?”
He held out his hand, palm up. “Give me your hand, Megan.”
“What are you going to do with it?”
“Just hold it. Nothing else.”
She couldn’t see anything wrong with that, and she’d never have been out here with him in the first place if she didn’t trust him. She laid her palm over his. It was rough and warm. He intertwined their fingers and clasped her hand.
“Relax,” he said, and she realized her entire arm had stiffened. She tried to do as he asked, but she’d never been particularly comfortable being touched, even before her relationship with Charles. “You’re wound so tight.”
His thumb rubbed tiny circles on the back of her hand, and a soft sound escaped her. Her limbs melted and she closed her eyes. All she could feel was the exquisite friction of his thumb pad on her skin. No one had touched her like this in… well, ever. Like touching her was the point, and it wasn’t a lead-up to something more. Like she was precious, and her pleasure was all he had on his mind. She blushed. Okay, so maybe “pleasure” was the wrong word.
“Is this okay?” he asked.