Garrett’s lips curled into a snarl and his nostrils flared. She felt the quick huff of his breath and saw the tightening of his jaw. “The son of a bitch raped you too?”

Sarah closed her eyes and shook her head. “No. Well, yes, but not in the physical sense. He didn’t penetrate me, but he may as well have. He watched Allen and laughed. Then he held my arms so Allen could finish the job. When Allen was finished, Stanley spit on me and told Allen to hire a new assistant because the one he had wasn’t a challenge any longer.”

Garrett swore long and hard under his breath and his fingers tightened around her hands.

“The night Marcus killed Allen, as I ran from the building, Stanley was there. He stopped me when I got off the elevator. He asked what the hell I was doing there. I knew he’d either think I killed Allen or that at the very least he’d know I saw who did. I also know he wouldn’t want what he and Allen did to me to ever become public.”

She shivered in Garrett’s grip as the words fell baldly between them.

“I know I should have told you before,” she said softly. “As soon as I knew Marcus had sent you to protect me. You needed this information. I was certain that the person who broke into my cottage on the island was someone Stanley sent to kill me. It’s why I left and why I finally accepted help from Marcus.”

“Come here,” Garrett said softly as he pulled her into his arms.

He circled her body and hugged her close to him. It didn’t seem to satisfy him. He pulled her down until she sat across his lap huddled to his chest. For a long moment he simply held her and pressed tender kisses to her hair.

Tension simmered through him. His muscles quivered beneath her skin and she could literally feel the battle he waged to get his anger under control.

“I’m going to do my absolute best to protect you, Sarah. I need for you to believe that.” He pulled away and nudged her chin until she returned his gaze. “I also need for you to believe that you aren’t just a job. This is personal for me. I care a lot about you. We have a connection. One I can’t explain. I’m not really interested in why. I protect the people I care about with my life.”

Tears shimmered making her vision grow blurry. He swam in her sight and her heart stuttered and jumped erratically. She raised shaking fingers to his face and traced the line of his cheekbone.

“I will kill any man who tries to hurt you. And you can believe, if you believe nothing else, I’m going to make Stanley Cross regret the day he ever took part in hurting you.”

She shivered at the violence in his voice. She believed him. There was nothing but stark truth in his eyes.

She leaned her head forward until her forehead touched his. Their mouths were a mere breath apart. She closed her eyes as a tear slid down her cheek.

His warm lips kissed away the damp trail. He was so exquisitely gentle that her chest tightened unbearably with a swell of emotion.

“I’m sorry that happened to you, Sarah,” he said in a voice tight with the same emotion knotting her throat. “I’m so damn sorry. If I could take it away I would.”

She slid her mouth over until it aligned with his. “But you can replace it,” she whispered.

“Are you sure?”

She nodded. “I need you, Garrett. Only you. I’m not afraid. With you I feel so strong.”

He framed her face with both hands and kissed her long and leisurely, his tongue delving deep as he explored the inside of her mouth. She sighed and melted against him, his heat seeping into her bones.

When he pulled away, she saw something in his eyes that surprised her. He looked ... uncertain. And now he hesitated as he stared softly back at her.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

“I’m afraid.”

Her eyes widened. “Afraid? Of what?”

He touched her swollen mouth with one finger and ran it along the seam to the corner and back across. “I’m afraid of doing the wrong thing. I’m afraid of hurting you. Of frightening you. Sarah, honey, I’d die if I did anything to make you go back to that night. I’d do anything in the world to make this right for you.”

She smiled then and for a moment she couldn’t breathe around the sting in her nose and the hard knot in her throat. “You will. Oh, Garrett, you’ll be just perfect.”

She flung her arms around his shoulders and hugged him tightly. She buried her face against the side of his neck and inhaled his scent. Slowly he circled her body with his arms and hugged her back just as fiercely as she held him. Then he brushed his lips across the curve of her neck and spread a line of tiny kisses to her shoulder.

She felt free in a way she hadn’t felt in a very long time. It was as if something inside her loosened and so much of what she’d kept suppressed came bubbling out.

Carefully she pushed away from Garrett and slid off his lap to stand in front of him once more. It was important to her to be an equal in their lovemaking. Oh, she had no doubt that Garrett would be exquisitely tender. But she wasn’t going to be a wilting ninny who had to be coaxed at every turn.

She was a normal, healthy woman. She’d had lovers before. She wasn’t a stranger to passion. She could do this.

Her gaze never leaving Garrett’s intense blue eyes, she began to undress. Leisurely. Unhurried. She peeled off one item at a time, gauging his interest with every piece that fell to the floor.

His eyes smoldered. It was a wonder she hadn’t gone up in flames. He watched her like a wolf watched his prey, his gaze stroking over her body like a paintbrush spreading liquid fire.

Finally she lowered her panties and let them pool at her feet. Then she pulled the straps of her bra down her shoulders until the cups fell away from her breasts. A mere second later, she tossed aside the bra and stood before him naked and trembling—not in fear—never in fear.

“Do you have any idea how beautiful you are?” he asked hoarsely.

“Right now I do,” she whispered. “The way you’re looking at me makes me feel like the most beautiful, desirable woman on earth.”

“As you should.”

Much as she’d done, he rose from the bed and stood just a foot apart from her as he began to slowly undress. His jeans dropped to the floor, leaving him in his boxer briefs. The material hugged his behind and his groin, outlining the sheer beauty of his physique. Her gaze was riveted to the bulge and to the thick erection being restrained by his underwear.

He pulled his shirt over his head. The muscles in his chest and shoulders rippled magnificently as he stretched. She simply couldn’t help herself. She had to touch him.

She pressed her palms to his broad chest and smoothed them upward to his shoulders. He trembled and flinched, his breathing raw and harsh, pushed from his chest in torturous sounding spurts. His reaction surprised her but when she looked into his eyes, she saw the same desperate need that unfurled inside her.

She stepped even closer until his body heat wrapped around her. The first touch of his flesh against hers was an electric shock. He was lean and hard, rough and hairy. She wanted to rub herself all over him like a cat.

“You’re killing me, honey,” Garrett rasped out. “Lord have mercy, but you’re killing me.”

She smiled and reached for the waistband of his underwear. He sucked in his breath as she started working them down over his hips. His erection sprang free and bumped against the softness of her belly. She let go of the material, not caring where it went. She wanted to touch him. It was an urgent, restless need that took over. She ran her fingertips lightly up his sides, grinning when he shivered in response. They danced across his chest and then slid down to his belly and then lower still.

“Son of a bitch,” Garrett muttered as he pried her hands away from his cock. “If you so much as breathe on me, I’m going to come and then I’ll be so humiliated I’ll never be able to get it up again.”

She laughed and took a step back, more so she could look at him, all of him. Oh but he was beautiful. She thought that a lot about him, but it was so true. He was the perfect male specimen. Rough. Hard. Strong. A warrior in every sense of the word. There was nothing easy about him. She doubted there was a soft part on his body. And she wanted his hands on her more than she wanted to breathe.

“Touch me,” she said in an aching voice. “I want to feel you.”

He slid his hands over the sides of her neck and up to frame her face. His mouth came down on hers in a heated rush that stole her breath. His mouth was so gentle over hers, but insistent too.

The warmth of his tongue licking delicately at her lips sent a shiver down her spine. He tasted her like she was a delicious treat he was sampling. And as if he found it decadent, he pushed inward, wanting more. She met his advance, rubbing her tongue over the roughness of his. There was a hint of caramel, proof he’d snuck a taste while he’d been making dessert.

He sucked lightly at her bottom lip, pulling it then letting it go as he delved once more inside. Then he retreated and nibbled at her upper lip to the corner where he peppered her with tiny kisses. His mouth slid from her mouth to her jaw, tracing a line to her ear.

His breath blew over the delicate shell of her ear even as he sucked the lobe between his teeth.

“I want to savor you all night,” he said in a rough, husky voice. “I’m going to take this slow. I want it to be perfect. So perfect. Now that you’re finally mine, I’m going to kiss every inch of your body. I want to touch you and taste you and love you until you know in your heart that I’ll never hurt you.”