able to recall being at the caterer and tasting the different kinds of cake, but everything after she’d left the building until she’d woken up in the hospital was still a blank.
It felt good to be able to hole up in Walker’s apartment and hide from the world. She knew without a doubt that he’d keep her safe. She hadn’t even been upset when his team had shown up with a whole hell of a lot of her stuff from her apartment. Things were cramped in Walker’s place now, with her stuff comingled with his, but he’d never complained.
For the first two nights, he’d held her all night long, reassuring her when she woke up with nightmares. But after that, she’d gotten tired of him treating her like a fragile piece of glass. She wanted to be Diana Prince for him again. Be the tough woman he’d nicknamed her after.
So the third night, she’d made her move before they’d climbed into bed. He wanted to continue to coddle her, but she knew she’d get her way when she got down on her knees in front of him, and he didn’t protest. Her face had still been sore, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t show him without words how much she loved him.
He hadn’t let her linger too long, much to her disappointment, but he’d more than made up for it when he picked her up, placed her on her back on his bed, and proceeded to give her two of the most intense orgasms she’d ever had. Then he’d made love to her…there was no other word for it. He was tender and gentle, and he looked her in the eyes the entire time he moved inside her.
Her third orgasm had been less intense than the previous two, but just as earthshattering. When he’d finally let himself go, she couldn’t take her eyes away from the pulse pounding in his neck as he’d thrown his head back and groaned through his orgasm.
She’d thought their lovemaking would be a turning point, that things would go back to normal and he’d loosen up a bit on his protectiveness. But she’d been wrong.
Now Gillian was torn. While she loved the fact he was so concerned, he refused to let her go anywhere by herself. She quickly felt as if she was losing her independence.
Ann, Wendy, and Clarissa had visited once, and Walker had only left when her friends had promised not to leave her alone. Of course, her friends had thought it was romantic and sweet, but Gillian was starting to get frustrated.
Yes, she’d been kidnapped and roofied.
Yes, she was still freaked about the whole thing.
But that didn’t mean she’d suddenly turned into a five-year-old who had to be supervised at all times.
As the first week rolled into the next, Gillian became more and more irritated. Walker was being too protective. It was stifling, and even though she knew he loved her and why he was loath to have her out of his sight, it had to stop.
His latest decree was the last straw. He’d overheard her talking to the Howards’ daughter and reassuring her that the party would go on as planned the upcoming weekend. As soon as she hung up, he’d started in.
“I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to go to Austin this weekend.”
Gillian did her best to control her temper before she turned to face him. “Walker, I have to. This is my livelihood. I’ve spent nearly three months working on this party. I’m not missing it.”
“You’ve done all the leg work, it’ll happen just fine if you’re there or if you aren’t,” he said in a maddeningly calm tone.
“You have no clue,” she said a little harsher than she’d intended. “You were there at the zoo. You saw what I do. There are a million little details that need to be dealt with. Things go wrong and someone has to be there to redirect everyone.”
“You can hire someone to do that. You should probably hire an assistant anyway,” Walker said reasonably.
“Are you serious right now?” she asked, putting her hands on her hips.
“Yeah. I am. You can’t seriously be thinking about going back to Austin already? Your face is still bruised and you were kidnapped a little over a week ago. Why would you think it’s a good idea to go back there?”
Gillian had been holding back her frustration for a few days—and she couldn’t do it anymore. “I love you, Walker. I do. But I