says, “Let’s go into my office and talk about this, shall we, Grace?”
He glances back at Mr. Badar. “Thanks, Raj. I appreciate your bringing Grace to me.”
Mr. Badar nods in silent acknowledgment, his gaze narrowing on me briefly before he heads back into the hallway.
Uncle Finn urges me gently toward his office door—what is it with everyone moving me around today, anyway?—all the while talking to Mrs. Haversham. “Can you message Jaxon Vega and ask him to meet me here as soon as possible? And look up what time my daughter’s”—he glances at me, then back at his assistant—“tests are over as well, please.”
Mrs. Haversham starts to nod, but the door Mr. Badar walked out of swings open so hard and fast that the doorknob actually slams into the stone wall behind it.
My nerve endings go on red alert, and every hair I have suddenly stands straight up. Because, even without turning around, every cell in my body knows exactly who just walked into my uncle’s office.
Jaxon.
One quick glance at his face over my shoulder tells me everything I need to know. Including that he’s about to raise all kinds of hell. And we’re definitely not talking about the good kind here.
“Grace.” His voice is hushed, but the ground beneath my feet rumbles as our gazes collide.
“It’s okay, Jaxon. I’m okay,” I reassure him, but my reassurances don’t seem to matter. Not when he’s across the room in little more than a second, pulling me from Uncle Finn’s unresisting grip and into his own muscular arms.
It’s the last thing I expect—PDA in front of my uncle—but the minute our bodies meet, I can’t bring myself to care. Not when all the tension inside me melts at the first brush of his skin against my own. And not when it finally feels like I can breathe for the first time since Mekhi called my name in the hallway. And maybe even a lot longer than that.
This is what I’ve been missing, I realize as I snuggle deeper into his embrace. This is what I didn’t even know I was looking for until the moment his arms went around me.
Jaxon must feel the same way, because he crushes me closer still, even as he blows out a long, slow breath. He’s shaking, shuddering, and though the ground has stopped actively rolling, I can still feel it trembling just a little.
I squeeze Jaxon more tightly. “I’m all right,” I assure him again, though I don’t understand why he’s so upset. Or why Uncle Finn is so shocked to see me. But confusion is giving way to my barely contained panic in a giant way.
“I don’t understand,” I mumble as I lean back to look into Jaxon’s eyes. “What’s wrong?”
“Everything is going to be okay.” The words are crisp, and his gaze—dark, intense, devastating—never wavers from mine.
It’s a lot, especially combined with everything else that’s happened this morning, and suddenly it’s too much. I look away from him, just until I can catch my breath, but that doesn’t feel right, either, so in the end, I bury my face against the hardness of his chest again and just breathe him in.
His heart is beating hard and fast—too fast, really—under my cheek, but he still feels like home. Still smells like home, like oranges and fresh water and warm, spicy cinnamon. Familiar. Sexy.
Mine.
I sigh again, burrow closer. I’ve missed this, and I don’t even know why. We’ve been practically inseparable since I got out of the infirmary two days ago.
Since he told me he loves me.
“Grace.” He breathes my name like it’s a prayer, unconsciously echoing my own thoughts. “My Grace.”
“Yours,” I agree in a whisper I really hope Uncle Finn can’t hear, even as I tighten my arms around Jaxon’s waist.
And just like that, something comes to life inside me—bold and powerful and all-consuming. It slams through me like an explosion, shaking me to the depths of my soul.
Stop!
Don’t!
Not with him.
3
Sleeping Beauty’s
Got Nothing
on Me
Without thinking, I push Jaxon away and stumble back a few steps.
He makes a noise low in his throat, but he doesn’t try to stop me. Instead, he just looks at me with his gaze as shocked and shaky as I feel inside.
“What was that?” I whisper.
“What was what?” he answers, watching me carefully. That’s when I realize he didn’t hear it, didn’t feel it.
“I don’t know. I’m sorry.” The words come instinctively. “I didn’t mean…”
He shakes his head, even as he, too, takes a definite step back. “Don’t worry