In His Keeping (Slow Burn #2)

He looked to Dane. “You have the chip ready? She’s out so let’s get it over with.”


Beau knew he was being edgy and impatient, but he wanted to be there when she opened her eyes. He wanted to be the very first thing she saw. He fidgeted with impatience, knowing none of this mattered if they weren’t able to locate Ari’s parents. Biological or not, she loved them dearly, and it was equally evident by the way she spoke of their affection for her that she was dearly loved in return. And well, if the information Zack had collected was true, then Ginger Rochester had experienced her share of heartache trying unsuccessfully to carry a child to full term.

It just seemed highly coincidental—too coincidental—that mere months after miscarrying a fourth baby late in the second trimester, a newborn baby had been simply left on Gavin Rochester’s doorstep right around the time his wife would have delivered her baby if she’d carried it to term.

More and more, Beau realized that the answer to everything was in discovering just where and who Ari came from. And what the hell his father had to do with the entire sordid affair.





TWENTY-TWO

ARI awoke to a dull throb at the base of her skull and her forehead, but the pain had lessened to a much more tolerable level. She was deliciously warm, and she tried to stretch, to work the kinks out of her sore muscles when her elbow collided with a hard chest. Which certainly explained the cozy warmth.

Their two bodies under the covers formed a seal and the air surrounding them was heated, mainly by Beau, because it seemed after using her powers, when she was utterly vulnerable and defenseless, that the strain on her brain made it so her body temperature wasn’t able to be regulated like normal. The result was that she always woke from the post-trauma, drug-induced fog with shivering cold permeating even her bones, and it seemed she was chilled on the inside, making it impossible for her to get warm.

Not so this time.

She instinctively snuggled deeper into Beau’s body, twining her legs through his so that his heat surrounded her completely. She nuzzled her cheek against his chest and then sighed in contentment as only a woman with the perfect man could do. The perfect man for her.

I chose you.

Those words, so powerful and heartrending, played over and over in her mind, soothing away the splintered fragments of pain, anger and violence.

Were there any three sweeter words to hear? She thought a moment and then acknowledged there was. Only one phrase that had more power than a man telling a woman that, out of the millions of women in the world, he chose only one. One! He chose her.

I love you.

Oh to hear those words from his lips, from his heart. To know that he meant them with every fiber of his being. She’d give anything in the world to have her heart’s desire. Her parents alive, safe, home. And Beau Devereaux’s love. If she ever were assured of those two things, she’d never ask for more.

By acknowledging the yearning from the deepest recesses of her soul, she was forced to acknowledge the depth of her own feelings. Her heart had literally been breaking apart, splintering, cracking. Piece by piece, chipped away as she’d walked—or rather tried to walk—away from him. To leave him the peace and strength of family that he deserved.

She knew how important family was. Her own family wasn’t as large as Beau’s, but it didn’t mean it was any less strong. And perhaps it was because it had always been only her, her mother, and her father, that their bond was so indestructible.

In a world where divorce was common. Where children left home at an early age. Where husbands beat wives. Spouses cheated on one another. Children were abused. Ari’s family had stood the test of time, and in fact, had strengthened—not weakened—with each passing year.

Her memories—so many wonderful, cherished memories—were so very dear to her and she prayed with all her heart that they would share many more memories to come. That she would one day give them grandchildren to protect and spoil every bit as much as they’d done with her.

Beau’s children.

The thought whispered enticingly through her damaged mind. She automatically lifted her head, seeking the reassurance that looking at his strong facial features always gave her. Her lips parted in surprise when she realized he was fully awake—had been awake for a while, because there were no cloudy remnants of sleep lingering lazily in his eyes. They were alert and aware. And they were solidly focused on her.

It was apparent she wasn’t the only one who’d been absorbed in a quiet moment of reflection. She only wished she was privy to his thoughts. She wanted so badly for her wants and desires, her hopes and dreams, to align with his. She wanted to share her life. With him. Only him.