The Protector by Marliss Melton Read Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Marliss Melton
think you could have stopped it? To want your goddamn life back?” Each word brought him an inch closer. A ruddy stain crept out of his collar and up his neck to stand on his cheekbones.
She stared at him, speechless, not altogether certain if he was talking about her or something that had happened to him . This wasn’t the time to ask, either, not when he loomed over her, his breath rasping in the volatile silence.
He visibly reigned himself in. “You’ll thank me later,” he muttered, turning away.
The pompous statement brought her anger roaring back. “The hell I will!” With no control over her impulses, Eryn shoved him toward the door.
He turned back with a look of incredulity.
She wanted him gone—all six-foot-something, 200-some-odd pounds of him. “Get out!” She knew she was seconds away from a meltdown. She could feel it gaining momentum inside of her. In desperation, she shoved him a second time.
All her shove accomplished was to make him widen his stance and drop his arms. The extent of her absolute helplessness broke over her. Mortified, Eryn whirled around and pressed her hands to her burning eyes, fighting down the geyser rising up her throat.
Awkward silence filled the small space.
A tortured sob escaped her. Her lungs convulsed. She couldn’t contain it. Ike’s hostility coming on top of the fear she’d lived with these past weeks—the thought of Itzak’s last horrifying moments, her near run-in with a bomb this morning—coalesced into a storm breaking over her with fury.
It sounded like someone else sobbing as she succumbed to the deluge. And Ike had thrown away her only comfort, dooming her to nightmares in which she envisioned her own violent death at the hands of a faceless terrorist. How could he have done that to her, the heartless bastard?
Over her gut-wrenching sobs, she discerned a longsuffering sigh.
In the next instant, firm hands settled on her shoulders, drawing her around. Begrudgingly, she let him pull her to the rigid but warm wall of his body. A thick arm banded her shoulders, holding her securely.
“It’s okay,” he muttered, sounding subdued. “You’ll feel better once it’s out of your system.”
He meant the medicine, she realized, with a surge of resentment. How could he even think for a moment that she was a drug user! With a moan of outrage, she gripped his jacket to shake sense into him, only to cling to him, instead.
Trying to draw comfort from such a hardened man was lesson in futility. Then again, nothing about the past two weeks made any sense. At the very most, he was an anchor holding her fast, as muddied waters threatened to sweep her away.
Moment by moment, her sobs subsided and her self-control returned.
Gathering what little remained of her dignity, Eryn dashed the wetness from her face, sniffed, and stepped back. “I’m sorry,” she apologized, staring at the cracks in the tiled floor, aware of his emotionless scrutiny.
“You’ll feel better in a day or two,” he finally predicted. With a glance at the toilet bowl and the dissolving pills, he left her standing there, bitterly humiliated, feeling like a junkie in rehab.
Screw you, she thought, glaring after him.
The spoiled princess was sulking over her lost meds, Ike decided, as he carried two bowls of stew from the stove to the field table that served as a dinette.
Eryn sat stiffly in a ladder-back chair, clutching a glass of ice water. The sinking sun spotlighted her puffy, red-rimmed eyes and spiked eyelashes. How she managed to look beautiful, even regal, on the heels of her emotional outburst was a mystery to him. But thanks to her meltdown, her softness and her scent were now imprinted on his senses, giving rise to a nagging sexual awareness.
“Back up,” he snapped at Winston, who stepped into his path while sniffing the air appreciatively. At his sharp
She stared at him, speechless, not altogether certain if he was talking about her or something that had happened to him . This wasn’t the time to ask, either, not when he loomed over her, his breath rasping in the volatile silence.
He visibly reigned himself in. “You’ll thank me later,” he muttered, turning away.
The pompous statement brought her anger roaring back. “The hell I will!” With no control over her impulses, Eryn shoved him toward the door.
He turned back with a look of incredulity.
She wanted him gone—all six-foot-something, 200-some-odd pounds of him. “Get out!” She knew she was seconds away from a meltdown. She could feel it gaining momentum inside of her. In desperation, she shoved him a second time.
All her shove accomplished was to make him widen his stance and drop his arms. The extent of her absolute helplessness broke over her. Mortified, Eryn whirled around and pressed her hands to her burning eyes, fighting down the geyser rising up her throat.
Awkward silence filled the small space.
A tortured sob escaped her. Her lungs convulsed. She couldn’t contain it. Ike’s hostility coming on top of the fear she’d lived with these past weeks—the thought of Itzak’s last horrifying moments, her near run-in with a bomb this morning—coalesced into a storm breaking over her with fury.
It sounded like someone else sobbing as she succumbed to the deluge. And Ike had thrown away her only comfort, dooming her to nightmares in which she envisioned her own violent death at the hands of a faceless terrorist. How could he have done that to her, the heartless bastard?
Over her gut-wrenching sobs, she discerned a longsuffering sigh.
In the next instant, firm hands settled on her shoulders, drawing her around. Begrudgingly, she let him pull her to the rigid but warm wall of his body. A thick arm banded her shoulders, holding her securely.
“It’s okay,” he muttered, sounding subdued. “You’ll feel better once it’s out of your system.”
He meant the medicine, she realized, with a surge of resentment. How could he even think for a moment that she was a drug user! With a moan of outrage, she gripped his jacket to shake sense into him, only to cling to him, instead.
Trying to draw comfort from such a hardened man was lesson in futility. Then again, nothing about the past two weeks made any sense. At the very most, he was an anchor holding her fast, as muddied waters threatened to sweep her away.
Moment by moment, her sobs subsided and her self-control returned.
Gathering what little remained of her dignity, Eryn dashed the wetness from her face, sniffed, and stepped back. “I’m sorry,” she apologized, staring at the cracks in the tiled floor, aware of his emotionless scrutiny.
“You’ll feel better in a day or two,” he finally predicted. With a glance at the toilet bowl and the dissolving pills, he left her standing there, bitterly humiliated, feeling like a junkie in rehab.
Screw you, she thought, glaring after him.
The spoiled princess was sulking over her lost meds, Ike decided, as he carried two bowls of stew from the stove to the field table that served as a dinette.
Eryn sat stiffly in a ladder-back chair, clutching a glass of ice water. The sinking sun spotlighted her puffy, red-rimmed eyes and spiked eyelashes. How she managed to look beautiful, even regal, on the heels of her emotional outburst was a mystery to him. But thanks to her meltdown, her softness and her scent were now imprinted on his senses, giving rise to a nagging sexual awareness.
“Back up,” he snapped at Winston, who stepped into his path while sniffing the air appreciatively. At his sharp
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