Battered Not Broken (5 page)

“What are you doing out of bed?”

Even when he whispered his voice was harsh.
Narrowing her eyes at him, she answered his question. “I have to go
to the bathroom. Does no one have to pee in the middle of the night
in this house?”

Okay, maybe that was a little harsh and
bitch-esque, but he deserved it. He’d growled and snapped at her
from the moment he’d found her in their home and now he was
growling at her because she had to pee.

He stepped closer to her, closing the
distance between them. “Of course we go to the bathroom, but you
shouldn’t be walking.”

“What do you expect me to do? Yell the house
down and wait for one of you to carry me to the bathroom?”

“Yes,” he snapped, biting the word out so
quickly she barely saw his mouth move.

“Well, too bad. I appreciate you three taking
care of me this evening, but I’m feeling much better and…
Omph!”

He ruined her tirade. Just when she had
gotten her rant going, he ended it by scooping her into his arms.
What was with the Bearclaw brothers and carrying her around?

Wrapping her arms around Ronan’s neck to
steady herself, she twisted her fingers around the hair at the base
of his skull and pulled.

“Ow!”

“Good. Put. Me. Down.”

It took him several strides to reach the open
bathroom door and she tugged and wiggled with each of his
steps.

“Stop moving, dammit.”

He moved through the doorway with her
squirming body without hitting the doorjamb. Plopping her down on
the toilet lid, he strode back to the door, flipping the lights on
as he passed the switch. Grabbing the doorknob, he pulled it behind
him, pausing long enough to issue a few orders.

“Sit there and pee. When you’re done,
call
me,
and I will come get you and take you back to bed.”

Yanking the door closed with a soft click,
Gillian stuck her tongue out at the man on the other side of the
door.
Jerk.

Taking care of business, Gillian made sure
her makeshift pajamas were in place before calling for her
erstwhile escort.

“Ronan!” she whispered as loud as she dared.
The whole house didn’t need to wake up because she had to use the
bathroom.

He came into the room just as she was
hobbling toward the sinks to wash her hands. Growling, he picked
her up and plopped her onto the counter.

“What is with you and carrying me? I have two
feet, ya know. It may hurt, but I am able to walk.”

Ronan mumbled something in response while he
turned the tap on and grabbed a washcloth from a nearby towel rung.
She watched as he soaked the cloth and rubbed it with soap with
quick, efficient movements. When he reached for her hands, she
snatched them back.

“What was that? I didn’t hear you.” She
tilted her head to the side and raised her brow.

As cliché as it sounded, if looks could kill,
she’d be dead. Apparently one in the morning was not the time to
tease Ronan. Not that any time seemed to be the right time. He
reached for her hands and she allowed him to take hold of her wrist
and she wiggled her fingers in his grasp, waving hello.

“Ronan…” She sung his name, prodding him.

Dropping the washcloth into the sink he
braced his weight on the counter and stared at her, his sea blue
eyes darkening to nearly black. “You deserve to be treated like
fine china, Gillian. We like caring for you, which includes
carrying you from place to place. Hell, when your feet are healed
we’ll probably still be carrying you around just to feel your skin
against ours.”

Oh. So not funny.

Thrusting her hands out, she stared at the
wall over his shoulder, praying he couldn’t see the hurt in her
eyes.
We like caring for you? Feeling your skin against
ours?
Yeah, right. And Gillian was the next president of the
United States. As. If.

The brothers barely knew her. They’d been
acquainted for a few hours and they liked taking care of her. They
were definitely taking chivalry a little too far.

Ronan grasped her hands in his and wiped them
down with the soaped washcloth, treating her as if she were a child
who couldn’t wash her own hands. It irked her. No, it pissed her
off he treated her this way. She’d stood up to Kyle. She wasn’t a
victim any longer, but a survivor. She’d be damned if she tolerated
being railroaded by anyone. When he rinsed her hands and dried
them, she jumped down from the counter while he replaced the damp
towel.

The moment her feet touched the floor pain
shot through her legs and her knees buckled under the agony.
Gillian crumpled to the floor in a moaning heap and gasped when one
of her newest bruises collided with the tile floor.
FuckFuckFuck. Fuck!

Ronan acted predictably, growling and pulling
her trembling body into his arms. He sat down on a stool she hadn’t
noticed before and cradled her in his lap. Whispering words she
couldn’t understand into her hair. And then she felt it and
froze—Ronan was pressing soft kisses along her temple as he
whispered.

Gillian’s pain washed away under his rain of
kisses and sweet words. Even if she couldn’t understand him, she
understood what he was trying to do. Wiping her cheeks, she found
them covered in moisture. She was crying and hadn’t realized
it.

“You okay, Gilly?”

She melted as his rumbling, sweet voice
washed over her when he used the nickname Max had given her.

“I’m okay.”

His callused hand cupped her cheek and tilted
her head back until they were looking each other in the eye.

“Gilly…” He licked his lips and she mirrored
his action. “You’re special. More than you realize, you’re special
to me and my brothers.” Ronan’s thumb wiped away a new tear. “We
want to take care of you because it’s what you deserve. Let us
pamper you, Gilly.”

Ronan was offering everything she’d ever
wanted from a man. Only he was offering three men to pamper her,
not one.

“Okay, while I’m here, I’ll try to relax.
It’s just new, Ronan. I’ve never had a man take care of me
before…”

He gave her a rueful smile. “Yeah, Max told
us about your door.”

Shame replaced the feelings of warmth that
had begun winding their way through her body. Max had told them.
They knew.
They all knew of her mistake.

“Hey. It’s not your fault. He is an insecure
dick with legs. Our mother taught us better. Yeah, the world has
quite a few ‘doors’ wandering around who should be turned into
kindling. But nothing’s going to happen to you while you’re here,
okay?”

Nodding, she laid her head on his shoulder
while his hand caressed her cheek.

“Thank you, Ronan, but I don’t want to be a
burden to you all and I don’t want to bring Kyle to your door. It’s
not your fight. I’m a stranger to you…”

“Shhh…” His hand traveled from her cheek to
stroke her neck, shoulder, and skim along her arm leaving goose
bumps in its wake. A near stranger’s touch shouldn’t feel so good,
so right.

Snuggling closer to Ronan, pressing more of
her body to his chest, her hand traveled and came to rest at the
juncture of his neck and shoulder. Closing her eyes, she relaxed
into the embrace of a man for the first time in years.

“Gilly?”

“Hm?”

“Going to take you to bed now, okay?”

Sliding her hand to the back of his neck, she
stroked his skin before burying her fingers in his hair. She loved
doing that, sifting through the silken strands with her fingers
made her feel closer to a man.

With half-closed eyes she raised her head and
looked at Ronan, really looked at him. She couldn’t believe she
ever thought the Bearclaw brothers were identical. In her eyes,
they were far from it.

Ronan licked his lips in a gesture she was
beginning to recognize as a nervous habit. Seemed
she
made
him
nervous.
Good.

Seconds ticked by and Ronan slowly closed the
difference between them. She just wanted him to kiss her already!
He was probably trying to give her time to protest, but she wasn’t
going to protest. She wanted his lips on hers.
Now.

Then it happened. Ronan brushed his lips
across hers, a tentative caress and gliding of his skin against her
lips and she felt her nerve endings come alive. His tongue emerged
and licked the seam of her lips. He didn’t have to ask twice, she
opened for him, offering her mouth eagerly.

At her acquiescence, his tongue bombarded her
mouth, swirling and dueling with her own until she surrendered
completely. Ronan’s tongue explored every corner of her mouth,
sliding and caressing every surface before sucking her tongue and
releasing her briefly to nip her lower lip. The sensual sting shot
through her body and straight to her core.

The kiss didn’t end there. His tongue
returned, plunging into her very depths, scorching her soul with
his kiss. Their tongues mimicked the dance they both ached for, but
before it could go any further, Gillian pulled away.

It was moving too far, too fast. They’d just
met and she was making out with him in the middle of the night, in
the bathroom of all places. Every cell in her body screamed and
begged her to return to his kiss, but her brain told her to quit
acting easy.

They were both breathing hard, the sounds
echoing in the small room and she couldn’t look at him. If she did,
she’d start kissing him again.

Staring at his chest, she wouldn’t look at
his face out of fear of what she’d see there, she spoke, barely a
whisper.

“You said something about bed?”

Oh! That was so freaking dumb! Now he’ll
think I want him to join me! Don’t I want him to join me? No. No, I
don’t. At least not yet.

“Right.” He took a deep breath, forcing his
chest to press against hers. “Bed.”

“Bed alone.”

“Alone. Right.”

In one smooth move he was standing with
Gillian in his arms and striding toward the open bathroom door. In
seconds she was back in the guest room and he sat her on the
bed.

Ronan held the covers up, probably so she
could crawl beneath them, but she wasn’t ready to lie down. Not
yet.

“It’s okay, I’ve got to get comfortable and
then I’ll crawl in.”

She tried to give him a “get the hell out of
here” smile, but it didn’t work. Or, he just refused to catch the
hint.

“Gilly, didn’t I just tell you I want to take
care of you? That includes tucking you in, unless the kiss changed
that and you just want me to get the hell out of here.”

Okay, he understood the look, but not the
reason. Great.

“Ronan, I’m going to spell it out for you and
embarrass the hell out of myself at the same time. The kiss was
amazing. Freaked me the hell out, but amazing nonetheless. I want
you to leave because I plan on taking these pajama bottoms off and
if you’ll recall, my laundry wasn’t done when you guys gave me
clothes to sleep in.”

It finally got through to him.

“Oh. Oh!” He gave her a wicked smile, one
that reached his eyes and she didn’t think she’d ever seen a more
beautiful sight. “You sure you don’t want my help?”

Laughing at him as he wiggled his eyebrows,
she shook her head.

“Thank you for the offer, but no.”

“Fine.” He stuck out his lower lip, but
leaned forward for a quick kiss before turning and heading for the
door. “Night, Gilly.”

“Night, Ronan.”

Ronan pulled the door closed as he stepped
over the threshold of Gillian’s room and into the hallway. Leaning
against the closed door, he willed his heart to slow as he listened
to the sounds emanating from behind the door.

The rustle of the bed sheets reached him a
moment before a soft gasp tore through his heart. He could imagine
her standing on shaky legs and aching feet as she wiggled out of
her pajama bottoms. A creak of wood met his ears and he knew she’d
crawled back into bed. The sheets rustled again, probably as she
pulled them across her body, now half-clothed, and the distinct
click of the lamp being turned off echoed through the room.

Standing outside her door and listening to
her breathe would surely drive him crazy. Pushing away from the
door, he took a few steps and was embraced by the familiar
surroundings of his own room. But something was different. The
scent of vanilla, lavender, and mint that seemed to surround
Gillian remained. He’d never get any sleep.

Accepting his fate, Ronan flopped onto his
bed, throwing on arm over his eyes. It was going to be a long night
indeed. Her fragrance wrapped around his body, skimming and flowing
through his pores where he lay. His cock, half hard from Gillian’s
kiss, slowly filled with blood until it strained against his
boxers. Sitting up, Ronan peeled off his t-shirt before lying down
again. Damn, it was hot in his room.

Closing his eyes, he imagined Gillian lying
in bed with him. Not the Gillian across the hall, but a Gillian who
had a soul filled with trust. A woman whose skin wasn’t marred with
bruises caused by a man and fear didn’t lurk in her eyes. His mate
was a beautiful woman, but she’d be breathtaking when she could be
in a room with all three of them and not spend every moment
searching for an escape route. The “door”, Kyle, would be in a
world of hurt if he ever came to their home.

The open, trusting Gillian in his imagination
would snuggle against his body, lining up every one of her curves
against him. From the brief glimpses he’d had of her body and the
few times he held her, Ronan knew her body was plump and
curvaceous, just the way the Bearclaw men liked their women. With
her pressed against him, one hand would bury in her golden,
bouncing curls while the other would stroke her body from shoulder
to hip, savoring the silken smoothness beneath his work roughened
hands.

She’d sigh against his chest, enjoying the
soft touches. Ronan would be gentle, oh so gentle, with his Gilly.
She deserved to be caressed and that’s what she’d get. Her hands
would sift through the hair on his chest and find his nipple,
rubbing, stroking, and pinching the tiny nubbin.