In His Keeping (Slow Burn #2)

“You can adapt on the fly,” she said cheerfully. “I’ve seen you in action. This should be a breeze for you.”


He reached for her, framing her shoulders and looking directly into her eyes, a veritable storm of emotion swirling chaotically in his.

“You don’t get it, Ari. If you were any other client, I’d be cool under pressure, and yes, our motto is change, adapt and overcome at any cost. But you aren’t just another client. And therein lies the problem. Because if something happens to you, I can not be held responsible for my actions. Because I’d unleash hell itself if it meant getting you back. And if the unthinkable happened and I lost you . . .”

He had to break off momentarily as emotion, so thick and tangible, seemed to clog his throat, making it impossible to articulate the turbulence of his thoughts and his realization that it was entirely possible he could lose her.

“I’d never survive, Ari. Do you understand that? I would never survive losing you.”

She stared at him in shocked realization. There was so much unguarded vulnerability there for her to plainly see. There was a physical, all too real ache in her heart almost to the point of discomfort. She even lifted her hand to rub absently at her chest, though the ache was deep. So deep that there was no way to ease it.

There was no effort to hide the rawness of his feelings from her. The tension—and sincerity—emanated from him in tangible waves that she could feel, almost touch. They brushed over her ears and rapidly absorbed into her very soul.

He may not have voiced those words, the words she so very much wanted to hear. But in a moment of clarity, she realized he didn’t have to. Didn’t need to in order for her to understand, to believe. She felt his love, and that was infinitely more precious than hearing words—just words. Words without actions—proof—were meaningless. And his every action, reaction, his every word and his body language was not of a man who had only passing interest in a woman. Or considered her a temporary fling, one that he could walk away from with ease. Nor a woman that his heart, mind, his soul weren’t solidly invested in.

He may not have said I love you. But he didn’t have to. Not anymore. Her insecurity over those three words evaporated and simply lifted away. Because he’d said them in every other way possible without ever giving voice to the sentiment.

And that was more than enough proof—reassurance—that he felt for her absolutely everything she felt for him. That he, in fact, returned her love. Fiercely. Without hesitation, no second-guessing.

Two halves of an incomplete whole, empty and aimless, searching for that perfect match, had finally come together in a seamless, perfect, no longer separate heart and soul.

Because now they were complete, and their souls were merged, becoming one, never to bear the heartache of separation or experience that feeling of emptiness and hollowness.

Perfection. Sweet, utter perfection. And at last, it was hers—theirs.

She could wait for the words. In his own time, he would give them to her. But it didn’t mean she wouldn’t give them to him.





TWENTY-FOUR

THE atmosphere in the SUV carrying Beau, Ari, Zack, Eliza and Dane was silent and tense. Beau had insisted Ari be seated in the middle row so she wasn’t a vulnerable target from the windshield or the panel of glass on the liftgate on the back of the SUV. His hand was gripping hers tight enough to make her wince, but she uttered no protest, realizing that he was truly terrified that something would happen to her despite the extensive planning and security measures that had been taken to prevent such a thing from occurring.

Another vehicle shadowed the vehicle bearing Beau and Ari, with five more highly skilled DSS operatives, whose acquaintance Ari hadn’t made. But if they were indicative of the rest, she knew she was in good hands.

Caleb had remained behind with Ramie at Beau’s insistence, though Caleb had been extremely reluctant to let his brother go off without him. Despite Caleb’s intimidating demeanor, Ari could see the true love and concern reflected in Caleb’s eyes when he looked at or spoke to his brother. For that alone, she could forgive any rudeness he had shown her in the past.

They pulled up in the private parking lot across the narrow street separating it from the skyscraper that jutted into the sky, seemingly piercing the stars. They’d pulled the building schematics and opted not to risk the elevators since it would be easy enough to shut them down, trapping the occupants between floors and making them sitting ducks.