Mine to Keep (NOLA Knights #3) - Rhenna Morgan Page 0,40

room across from it. A study sat dark to one side of the main entry, but the glow of the old-fashioned streetlamp outside cut a wide enough swath to let him safely carry Bonnie to the second floor.

He paused at the top of the landing. There were two bedrooms at either end, both finished out by Evette in the last year after she’d learned they were empty, but if he put Bonnie in either one of those he’d be unable to hear her.

Decision made, he headed for the third floor and the guest room opposite his master suite. He made it all of three steps past his room when he reconsidered and backtracked to the master. Yes, Evette had done an excellent job of decorating and making his town house actually feel like a home, but his bedding was far superior to the others, and his mattress was one of the few purchases he’d gone over the top with. She deserved something comfortable. Something indulgent. And sleeping in the guest room across from her would certainly be no hardship for him.

With only the moonlight through the wide picture window to guide him, he strode to the king-size bed and laid her out on his side of the bed. She rolled to one side as soon as she made contact with the mattress, her back to him and her knees drawn tight to her chest.

Odd how seeing her there felt right. Perhaps not so withdrawn and curled in on herself, but just to have her there—safe and secure in his own space—eased the tension in his shoulders. Perhaps if he gave her time to sleep—to let her mind process the things she’d been through in a protected environment—she’d be comfortable enough to shed her shoes and jacket and slip beneath the covers.

He grabbed the plush gray throw draped along the foot of the bed and covered her with it.

For just a moment, he gave himself time to merely stand there and study her. The rise and fall of her chest with each breath. The deep auburn of her hair in the moonlight. How fragile and delicate she looked without her defenses in place.

He would help her rebuild. Get her past whatever made her think she wouldn’t be a welcome addition to their family. Help her find a path she could be proud of and give her a foundation to build on. He’d just have to be careful to keep his distance as he did so. She’d already made it clear she wanted to live a law-abiding life. One free of questionable practices and secrets. She’d already seen firsthand tonight what he was capable of. If she ever learned just how prevalent that part of his life had been before moving to New Orleans, she’d never come within screaming distance again.

Biting back a sigh, he stepped away from the bed and crept as quietly as possible toward the door.

“Roman?”

He paused at the threshold, the hesitancy and pain in her voice rekindling the need for vengeance he’d barely banked. He faced her.

Braced on one elbow, her chin was tucked close to her chest, but the fear and desolation on her face pierced his heart. “Could you...” She pinched her lips tight and took a shaky breath. “Would you mind staying? For just a little bit?”

Distance.

He was supposed to keep his distance. Ensure she felt safe around him. Keep her well removed from the ugly truth of who he was and what he’d done in his past.

But in that moment, he didn’t want distance. Wanted to stretch out beside her, tuck her close to his side and let her lean into his strength. To promise her things he had no business even thinking about. Let alone speaking aloud.

He nodded and prowled back to the bed, angling for the opposite side so that when he returned to the guest room he wouldn’t rouse her. He piled the pillows high and reclined against them, his long legs stretching toward the end of the bed.

Bonnie scooted closer, her position the same as before, but near enough her knees grazed his hip and he had no choice but to lift his arm and make room for her head on the pillow beside him.

“Thank you. Just...” Her shaky whisper was all innocence and gratitude. But when she placed her trembling hand on his chest just above his heart, something in him shifted. Something fierce, yet also protective. “Thank you.”

She trusted him.

Despite everything—what she’d seen and what she’d felt—she’d chosen