Fever

Bethany tugged her hands away from Jace and turned her face to the window. What on earth was he doing? How had he found her? Why had he found her?

Seeing him in the shelter had been a huge shock. One that had rendered her incapable of the simplest thought process. She barely offered a token protest when he’d hauled her away and stuffed her into the back of his car. Wasn’t this kidnapping?

“Bethany, look at me.”

Though his tone was gentle, there was no mistaking the command in his voice. It was one she couldn’t help but obey. She turned her chin and peeked up at him from beneath her lashes and her breath caught in her throat.

He was such a beautiful man. So dark and brooding. Power emanated from him. Anyone would be a fool not to sense his strength. It was plain for all to see. He wore authority like he’d been born to it.

Though she’d sworn he was a man who’d always make a woman feel safe, at this very moment she was a nervous wreck. The look in his eyes suggested she wasn’t safe at all, though she wasn’t sure what it was she wasn’t safe from.

He wouldn’t harm her. Of that she was sure. But there were many other hurts than just physical.

“Don’t be afraid of me.”

Her lips twisted. “That isn’t something you can just dictate. Telling someone not to be afraid of you doesn’t make it so!”

His gaze hardened. “Have I given you any indication that I’m going to hurt you?”

“You just carried me out of the shelter against my will! What you did was kidnapping! Why were you even there, Jace? How and why did you find me? I don’t understand.” Her words came out much higher than she intended. There was a shrillness to her voice that spoke of her panic.

He put his fingers to her cheek, pressing in just enough that she felt his touch and was powerless to turn away.

“You need me,” he said simply.

Her mouth gaped open and she stared back at him in astonishment. She had no idea what to say to that. What could she say?

Then he leaned forward and put his lips to her forehead in the gentlest of kisses. She closed her eyes, savoring the sweetness of the gesture. This man was trouble with a capital T. She was in trouble. In a big, big way.

Tonight you’re coming back to my place,” he said as he sat back in the seat. He spoke with a calmness she sure as hell didn’t feel. “Tomorrow I’m taking you to my sister’s apartment. She’s not using it anymore. It’s furnished, so you won’t have need of anything.”

Her mouth fell open again at the certainty to his voice. It wasn’t a question. He wasn’t asking her anything. He spoke as if it was already decided. As if she had absolutely no say in her destiny.

“This is insane,” she whispered. “You can’t just rearrange my life like this. I can’t stay in your sister’s apartment.”

He lifted one eyebrow and leveled his steady gaze at her in a manner that made her feel stupid.

“You have somewhere else to stay?”

She flushed. “You know I don’t.”

“Then I fail to see why this is an issue. Mia isn’t using the apartment. She’s living with Gabe until they marry. Her roommate has moved in with her boyfriend. It’s empty and it’s paid for. You’ll stay there, at least for now.”

Her brow crinkled at the addition of “for now.”

He smiled as if realizing the source of her confusion.

“Eventually you’ll move in with me but I accept that you need time to adjust to our . . . situation.”

“You are crazy,” she muttered. “I’ve been kidnapped by an insane person.”

Jace scowled as they pulled to a stop in front of an ultramodern high-rise across from Central Park. A steady rain was now falling. He reached across to take her hand, pulling her toward the door as he climbed out.

“Hurry so you don’t get wet,” he said even as he rushed toward the entrance.

She was forced to run to keep up with him and by the time they got inside, she was out of breath. She grimaced as the denim stuck to her knees ripped away, aggravating the scrapes all over again.

Jace saw her expression and he swore as he stared down at her torn jeans. Taking her arm, he directed her toward the elevator and ushered her inside. Despite his effort to get them inside before they got wet, her clothes clung damply to her and she shivered.

The elevator opened into an elegant foyer with marble floors and a huge, crystal chandelier suspended from the ceiling. He nudged her forward and she stepped hesitantly into his apartment.

“We need to get you out of those clothes and I need to tend to your injuries,” he said grimly.

His statement made her hug herself tighter as if she could keep her clothes on with her action. Yes, he’d seen her naked, but the idea of being naked in front of him again made her feel extremely vulnerable.

She’d called him crazy, but she was more insane than he was because she was allowing this. It could be said he’d given her little choice, but she hadn’t fought that hard.

“We need to talk, Jace,” she stammered out. “This is nuts. I can’t be here with you. I don’t even know why you were at that shelter or how you knew I’d be there!”

He put a finger to her lips and his expression brooked no argument. “There’ll be plenty of time to discuss our situation after you’ve had a hot shower and I’ve looked at those scrapes. You’re right. We have a hell of a lot to discuss, and believe me, we’ll get there. But my first priority is ensuring that you’re taken care of.”

She glanced down at her bedraggled appearance and decided that a hot shower would definitely be welcome. Whatever his explanation was, she’d deal with it a lot better when she was warm and dry.

“Okay,” she murmured.

His mouth twitched suspiciously. “There. That wasn’t so hard now, was it?”

She frowned. “What?”

“Giving me control. I’ll warn you now, Bethany. I’m very used to getting my way.”

What the . . . ? She hadn’t said anything about giving him control!

She opened her mouth to tell him just that but he lowered his lips to hers and kissed her, thoroughly shutting her up in the process.





chapter ten





Bethany sat on the bathroom counter as Jace meticulously examined every scrape and cut on her body. And he was thorough. She was completely naked and he hadn’t left a single inch of her skin unexamined.

His lips were set into a fine line but he remained silent while he tended her wounds. She was still cold. Cold on the inside. Bone deep. She wasn’t sure she’d ever feel warm again.

After she’d spent several minutes shivering, Jace cursed—something he did commonly around her—and lifted her down from the counter.

“I’ll start the shower. You need to warm up. After you get out, I’ll bandage the scrapes. I don’t think you need stitches in any of the cuts but I’ll apply antibiotic ointment so they don’t get infected. While you’re in the shower, I’ll fix us some dinner.”

He didn’t wait for her agreement. That was pretty laughable since he hadn’t asked her for her opinion once. He leaned in, turned on the shower and then came back to where she was standing without a stitch of clothing on. And to think she hadn’t thought her day could get any more bizarre.

He slid one hand up her bare arm to her shoulder, squeezed reassuringly and then left the bathroom. She sagged against the counter and then turned to survey her reflection in the mirror. She looked like death warmed over. Tired. Haggard. Worried. Scared.

There were a million words that swirled in her mind.

She closed her eyes and swayed precariously until she gripped the edge of the counter to steady herself. For tonight, at least, she was safe. Even if she had no idea what had possessed Jace, she was fiercely relieved that he’d brought her here. Where no one could possibly find her. Where even Jack wouldn’t know where she was.

A reprieve. However short it was, she welcomed it.

Knowing she was wasting hot water, she stepped into the shower and groaned as the heat cascaded over her aching body. It was sheer bliss. The most wonderful thing she’d ever felt.

She tossed her head upward, letting the spray wash over her face and down her neck. Her scrapes stung as the hot water abraded them, but she was careful to clean all the cuts in her skin.

She remained in the shower until her body grew heavy and sluggish from being exposed to the intense heat for so long. After rinsing her hair one last time, she reluctantly turned off the water and stepped out.

Warm air washed over her, surprising her. She glanced upward to see that Jace had evidently turned on the bathroom heater and it was nice and cozy after her half-hour shower. He had decadent towels. Huge and fluffy, so soft that she felt surrounded by a cloud. She could almost wrap it twice around her body.

It was sinfully wasteful, but she used two towels, one for her body and the other to wrap in her hair. It was a frivolous luxury that gave her a giddy thrill to indulge in.

She blinked in surprise when she realized that there was a change of clothes lying on the counter that hadn’t been there before. And a thick robe hanging on the back of the door. There was also a pair of slippers. The man had thought of everything.

Her gaze tracked to the clothes again and she frowned. Like he kept women’s clothing just lying around his apartment?

She picked up the pair of jeans and the T-shirt and quickly saw that both were too big. Not by much, and truthfully, a year or so ago they would have fit. She hadn’t been as thin then. Not as lean. More fleshed out. She’d had more of an actual shape.

Now she was reduced to boobs and not much else. No hips. Not much of an ass. Angular features due to weight loss. Life on the streets was hard. It aged a person before their time.

After taking the time to dry herself completely, she pulled on the pair of panties stuck between the jeans and the T-shirt, embarrassed that she was borrowing some other woman’s underwear. There wasn’t a bra, and she supposed it didn’t really matter anyway. She only had two and both were almost falling apart. The one she’d taken off—or rather Jace had taken off—was dirty and torn. It wasn’t salvageable.

It wasn’t as if he hadn’t already gotten up close and personal with her boobs. Seeing her without a bra wouldn’t be a shock.

She tugged the T-shirt over her head and it hung loosely over her hips. It didn’t even stretch tight over her breasts, which meant whoever the shirt belonged to was more endowed than she was.

After pulling on the jeans, she took the towel off her head and dragged her fingers through her hair in an attempt to rectify the bedraggled wet-cat look. She was only moderately successful and she wasn’t about to rummage through Jace’s drawers to borrow a brush.

She blew out a deep breath, squared her shoulders and then turned to the door. She hesitated, her hand gripping the knob. Total chicken. The idea of facing Jace terrified her. Not because she thought he’d hurt her but because she knew she didn’t stand a chance against him.

Worse, she wasn’t certain she wanted to stand up to him. It was far easier to allow him to take charge. Being taken care of was such a foreign concept that it tempted her. It dangled before her like the proverbial carrot before the donkey.

She jumped when the door vibrated against her hand.

“Bethany? Are you finished?”

Swallowing, she opened the door to see Jace standing a few feet away. He glanced down her body and frowned.

“I need you to take those jeans back off. I was supposed to bandage you up before you got dressed.”

“I forgot,” she said in a low voice. “I assumed since you left the clothing there that you intended for me to get dressed.”

“Not a big deal. Come into the living room. We’ll do it there.”

He reached out his hand to cup her elbow and then he guided her out of the bathroom, back through his bedroom and then into the sprawling living room.

He had a truly spectacular view of the city with panoramic windows.

“Slip out of your jeans,” he said. “Then get comfortable on the couch. Dinner is just about ready. By the time I get you all fixed up, we can eat.”

Knowing it was useless to argue, she unfastened the pants and let them fall down her legs.

“I know they’re too big,” Jace said as she kicked them away. He reached for her hand and pulled her down to sit next to him. “We’ll go tomorrow and get what you need. The very first thing you’re getting is a damn coat. It’s freezing out there and you’ve been running all over this damn city without proper clothing. That shit stops now.”

There was steel in his tone and yet some of the deeply entrenched cold began to dissipate at the edge of concern in his voice. He spoke like a man who genuinely cared about her well-being.

She mentally shook herself because that kind of fantasy was dangerous territory. She’d learned the hard way that she could rely on absolutely no one but herself to take care of her. And even she had let herself down. Just like all the others.

He leaned toward the coffee table, where a small first-aid kit rested. There was a long moment of silence while he applied ointment to each and every scrape and then affixed gauze and tape on the large ones and put large Band-Aids on the smaller cuts.

Before she realized his intent, he pushed her back on the couch and lifted her T-shirt.

“I don’t have any cuts there!” she cried when his hand skimmed over her belly.

His expression was murderous as he lifted his gaze to hers. “No, but you have bruises. What the fuck happened out there, Bethany? Who did this to you?”

He sounded so pissed that she flinched from the anger in his voice. It was instinctive to withdraw. Self-preservation.

A low hiss escaped his tight lips. “Goddamn it, Bethany, I’m not going to hurt you. I will never hurt you. But I want to know what son of a bitch did.”

“Y-you s-sound so a-angry.”

“Hell yes. I’m furious! But not at you, baby.” His voice softened as he called her baby, and something inside her went soft as well. “I’m pissed at the bastard who put his hands on you. And you’re going to tell me exactly how this happened.”

She went pale and her eyes widened.

Then, when she hadn’t thought he could do anything else to surprise her, he leaned over her and lowered his head to her ribs. He pressed a kiss to each and every bruise, his mouth so tender she barely felt the pressure.

Dear God, how was she ever going to resist this man?

“Do you need something for pain?” he asked.

“I’m okay,” she whispered. “Just hungry.”

He immediately lifted his head, his mouth tightening once more. “How long has it been since you ate? And don’t lie to me.”

She swallowed hard, but she didn’t lie. “Three days.”

“Son of a bitch!”

His jaw bulged and he turned away as if collecting himself before he faced her again. When he did return his gaze, there was fire in his eyes and he still looked as if he’d explode at any second.

“You have to give me a minute,” he muttered.

He visibly inhaled and exhaled through his nose before finally rising from the couch. He put his hand down, palm up, waiting for her to take it and get up too. When she let him help her stand, he reached down to snag her jeans. Then he guided her hand to his arm and told her to hang on while she put her feet through the pants legs.

After he fastened the fly, he took her hand and guided her into the kitchen. The entire apartment was an open concept with one room flowing into the next. The dining room, or rather dining area, was in front of the kitchen and off the living room to the side. There was an island-bar combination, which enabled whoever was cooking to see into the dining room as well as the living room.

He lifted her onto the high-backed bar stool and then walked around to the stove top, where three different skillets were simmering. She watched with interest while he drained pasta and then tossed it into the skillet with the sauce. He gave it an expert twist, and added seasoning before serving two plates. Lastly, he speared a chicken breast, which had been sautéing in the last pan and sliced it into thin pieces before arranging it over the pasta.

“Voilà,” he pronounced as he handed it over the bar to her.

“I’m impressed,” she said sincerely. “It looks and smells wonderful. I wouldn’t have thought you cooked.”

He lifted an eyebrow. “Why not?”

She felt heat bloom in her cheeks. “I don’t see a lot of wealthy, eligible bachelors cooking for themselves.”

He laughed. “I raised my younger sister and at the time we couldn’t afford to eat out or pay someone else to do the cooking. I was just a poor college student trying to survive.”

“Where were your parents?”

His eyes flickered. “They were killed in a car accident when Mia was six years old.”

Bethany frowned in concentration. “You must be quite a bit older than her then if you were already in college.”

“Fourteen years,” he confirmed. “She was an ‘oops’ baby, born when my mother was in her forties. She had me quite young and they thought they were through.”

“It’s pretty cool that you raised your sister,” she said quietly.

He shrugged. “Not much else to do. I wasn’t going to abandon her. I’m the only family she has.”

He walked around, holding his own plate and then sat beside her on the next stool. He glanced over to see she hadn’t even taken a bite and he frowned. “Eat, Bethany.”

She dug her fork into the succulent-looking pasta and inhaled as she raised the bite to her lips. It smelled divine.

When it hit her tongue, she closed her eyes and sighed.

“Good?”

“Delicious,” she said.

He suddenly got up and she saw him go around and get two glasses that were out on the counter. He placed a glass of orange juice in front of her and she went soft. He’d remembered that she’d asked for orange juice last time.

She savored every bite, every sip until she was beyond full. Pushing the plate away, she gave a contented sigh. “Thank you, Jace. That was wonderful.”

He stared at her for a long, silent moment. “I like the way you say my name.”

Her brows furrowed. What was she supposed to say to that?

Knowing they had a lot to talk about—she absolutely had to tell him that she wasn’t moving into his sister’s apartment!—she wrapped her fingers nervously around each other and peeked up at Jace.

“Jace?” she said softly. “We need to talk.”

He nodded, his lips pressed firmly together. “Bet your ass we do. Let’s go back into the living room. I have questions I still don’t have answers to.”

She blinked and then drew her brows together. Before she could tell him that she was the one planning to do the talking, he urged her up from her chair and put a firm hand on her back to guide her into the living room.

After parking her on the couch, he turned on the fireplace. She sighed as the flames licked upward. It gave the room such a homey feel, and then she shook her head at the absurdity of that thought. What would she know about a home? Home was what you made it, and she and Jack had made home out of some pretty barren places.

Bleakly, she thought back to the places, or rather nooks, they’d made home over the years. In a few cases, she’d been fortunate to land a job for an extended period and they’d actually gotten to live in a shabby efficiency motel. It hadn’t been much, but she’d been delighted to have a permanent residence and not one they had to move in and out of based on occupancy.

“What are you shaking your head about?” Jace asked with a frown.

She looked up to see that he’d slid onto the couch beside her. He was close—within touching distance—and his heat and scent wrapped around her, warming her from the inside out.

Without thinking of the consequences, she was instinctively honest.