Her long lashes veiled pain as she closed her eyes. He hated that he’d put that hurt there. But that glimpse of emotion freed all the uncomfortable truths he harbored. Tightening his hold on her arms so she couldn’t run away, he let everything tumble out. “I was scared. Miles and Randall sent me those emails, and I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t know how to let you go. I can’t.”
The same pain he’d witnessed in her eyes set into her expression as she winced. He felt the tightening of her body, the resistance to his words. He’d give anything to take that from her. To take everything back and erase the horrible way he’d treated her.
As emotion clogged his throat, he took a half-step forward and set two fingers beneath her chin to lift her face to his. “I’ve never been afraid of anything more. Not a case, not a judgment, not a judge. I acted like an ass, and I don’t know the right words. All I can say is I’m sorry. I don’t want to lose you.”
One heartrending tear slipped from her lowered lashes and rolled slowly down her cheek. As it fell, something shattered inside Brad. Pain twisted through him, so sharp and fierce he nearly dropped to his knees. Not her tears—goddamn, he didn’t want to make her cry.
Instinct overruled logic and all the jumbled-up words that clogged his head. He dipped his head and gently captured her mouth. She shuddered against him. A sob caught in the back of her throat. But her lips parted beneath his, and the arms she’d locked across her chest slid around his waist. Her palms splayed across his lower back.
The fist lodged behind Brad’s ribs eased to a tolerable discomfort. He folded her into his embrace and deepened the tender kiss. Wine lingered on her tongue, more intoxicating than if he’d consumed an entire bottle. His thoughts swam, buoying him in rich languor. This—he would cut off his thumbs to always have this. However long it took, he would make his mistakes right with her. Whatever she required, so long as this never disappeared again.
Sliding his fingers through her silken hair, he drew the kiss to a close. Her watery eyes met his, and he swallowed down a hard lump of emotion on seeing the affection in those pretty chestnut depths. “Please forgive me, Cassie,” he whispered thickly. “I won’t betray your trust again.”
“I’ve missed you too,” she answered quietly.
It was a start. At least the anger had faded from her gaze. He couldn’t expect miracles when he had a lot of proving to do. Brad crushed her close and rested his cheek against the crown of her head. For several long moments, he simply basked in the press of her gentle curves and the scent of jasmine in her hair.
The jasmine, however, became his undoing. He’d gone too long without touching her, too long without breathing in that intoxicating fragrance for his body to be accustomed to its pull. Desire stirred. Only tonight, the same fear he’d fought the last time he held her blended with the gnaw of arousal. He winced at the sharp pang, the tight constriction in his lungs. He rubbed his cheek against her hair and murmured, “I need to touch you, Cassie. Just for a little bit.”
She leaned back, her apprehension evident in her slight frown. He understood the root of that mistrust, and rushed to erase her worry. “Not like last time. I’ll never do that to you again.”
As if all she needed was the security he wouldn’t abuse her the way he had, Cassie let a smile peek through. She plucked open the top button on his cotton jersey. “I was about to take a bath.”
Brad caught her lower lip between his teeth, gave it a gentle tug. “Need someone to wash your back?”
Her eyes twinkled, belying the innocence in her voice. “I could use some help.”
Giving in to a low, playful growl, Brad swung her into the air and caught the back of her knees over his arm. “God, Cassie, you’re amazing.”
With that hoarse honesty, he carried her up the stairs.
Chapter Twenty-seven
Long after Brad had washed every inch of her skin and spent a good hour bathing her in the splendor of his body, Cassie dozed in his arms, tucked into the guest bed once again. As had become his habit, he’d lit a fire. As he had promised, though he took her to the heights of ecstasy, he hadn’t misused her body. Warmth flowed easily in her veins, comfort that came from the simple feel of his bare skin pressing into hers and the light fall of his breath stirring her hair.