she could've died. All his security and the damn FBI, and the bastard almost got her. Most importantly, he'd never aimed for Noah, confirming his belief that Rizzoli was out to take her from him as punishment. Revenge.
The water shut off. He tried to get himself together for when she stepped out of the bathroom, but it was futile. Blood all over her. The gunshot still ringing in his ears. The desperate, frightened look on her face.
Fuck it. He should leave her here. She'd bitch and moan, but she'd be alive. There were no accessible roads. The only way in or out was to fly. A full security team, bullet-proof windows, alarm system, and panic room. She'd hate him for taking her away from the gallery, from her life, but she'd be alive.
The bathroom door opened with a quiet click, steam billowing out as Raven emerged with a towel around her middle. From his prone position on the bed, he held his breath when she stopped in her tracks. Her gaze raked over his naked form, not a sensual exploration, but a full study.
Worry ratcheted in his gut. She hadn't said much since they'd left the gallery. Her creamy skin tone was paler than her norm, her pretty eyes distant and unfocused with shadows under them. He had the distinct impression she thought this was all her fault. It made him sick.
"I don't have any clothes," she said at last. Her voice was flat, as if mustering any emotion took too much effort.
"We'll find you something to get by." He sat up and braced his elbows on his thighs, scrubbing his hands over his face. He'd thrown away the dress she'd worn tonight, but he hadn't thought to stop by the condo and get her some things. He'd just wanted her as far away from there as possible.
"Do we know how Max is doing? Can we call the hospital?"
"In the morning, baby." The shot passed through Max's side and exited into a wall. Judging by the location of the wound, Noah doubted the bullet had hit anything vital. Max was ex-military and tougher than steel. He'd be okay.
Yet his bodyguard had softened toward Raven since under her detail. Max looked at her with amusement and adoration. Not romantic by any sense, but he was growing to care for her a great deal. Just tonight, after the agents had the scene secured, Max had checked her out first before succumbing to his injury and standing down. Helpless, Noah had watched from under the bodies of his own security men, needing to get to her.
Looking at her now, Noah could understand why Max liked her so much. Hell, it was impossible not to love Raven Crowne. Hadn't he tried for years to deny his feelings?
She stared at the bed, unmoving, not blinking, as if trapped in her memory. He had to do something to snap her out of this, but he wasn't right in the head either. Something told him if he didn't act fast, all their progress would regress. She'd be afraid of touch again, of submitting her body to pleasure. Worse, she'd panic and find a way to call off the relationship.
Unsure of what to do, he stared at the floor. Hell, if he could find a way for her to unsee everything, to just lose herself in his touch and??/p>
He straightened, looking at his necktie he'd tossed aside. "Raven, come here."
Like a robot, she walked over to stand between his knees.
Gently, he released her hold on the towel and let it drop. "Trust me, baby."
Finally, she looked him in the eye, but there was nothing in hers. A blank page. He'd seen the look before, when her depression had a stronghold and she was too tired to struggle. Yet it had been years since it had metastasized, and the fact that it was here now had his own panic tripping. He could do everything in his power to keep her safe, take care of her by making her eat and sleeping next to her for comfort, but he couldn't fight this for her.
She blinked slowly, as if to question what he said. "I do trust you."
Of that, he had little doubt. But his beautiful woman still didn't trust herself. "Lay down on the bed for me."
She crawled to the center of the mattress and lay on her back, watching him. He walked to the closet and grabbed another tie, then picked up the other one he'd dropped before making