She watched in stupefaction as he briskly began to pack under her quiet direction. Didn’t they have it all turned around? He was doing everything for her. What had she done for him? But then, he had said he’d give a lot. But he’d take everything.
She shivered lightly, wondering just how much he’d take, and if she’d have anything left when he’d taken his fill.
chapter eleven
Ash wasn’t a stupid man. He knew he’d pressured Josie, given her no time to breathe, analyze or react to his arrogant demand. And it had been the height of arrogance to sweep into her apartment and order her to move into his.
So it was with brisk efficiency that he hurried about his task, because the longer she sat on that bed looking overwhelmed and befuddled, the more time she’d have to reconsider her quiet agreement. Which meant he risked her not coming home with him.
And that was not an option.
He packed an overnight bag, called his driver to make sure he’d be waiting outside Josie’s apartment, and then he hustled her toward the door, not giving her any further time to process the whirlwind event.
After urging Josie into the car, he closed her door and paused only a moment to call his doorman and ask him to go up to Ash’s apartment and take down the painting of Josie from his bedroom and store it, along with the others in his living room, until Ash retrieved them. He didn’t want Josie to know he was the one who’d bought her work. Not yet.
When he got into the car next to her, he relaxed and then glanced sideways, taking in her pale, shaken face. The bruises pissed him off. Enraged him. The split at the corner of her mouth stood out, a reminder that another man had put his hands on what Ash already considered his. That the man would have put his hands on any woman in such a manner. Not just Ash’s woman, but any woman. But most especially his woman.
“I don’t know if this is a good idea, Ash,” she said quietly, speaking for the first time since she’d given him hesitant instructions on what to pack for her.
“It’s a very good idea,” he said firmly. “You would have already come to me if it weren’t for that asshole. You know it and I know it. Now, we still have to address the matter of Michael, and we’ll do it when we’re in a place you feel safe and secure, and you’ll do it in my arms, where you know nothing bad is going to touch you. But know this. What he did doesn’t change one thing about you and me. We’re inevitable, Josie. From that first day in the park, we were inevitable. Fighting is a waste of time and mental energy. I’m not fighting it and I don’t want you fighting it either.”
Her mouth parted in surprise. Her eyes flashed, not in anger, but in recognition. Good. They were getting somewhere because she was starting to see what he saw. What he knew.
“Not happy that you kept this from me,” he continued. “That you didn’t come to me the minute this happened. But we’ll work on that. You weren’t mine yet even if I knew you were. But you are now. And you’ll come to me any time you have a problem.”
Slowly she nodded, and satisfaction—triumph—gripped him.
He held out his arm, not liking the distance between them, but not wanting to push her too hard. Not yet. He’d already pushed enough. He wanted her next move to be of her own doing, and so he waited, arm outstretched toward her.
She came readily, with no hesitation, and he liked that. She slid next to him, burrowing into his side so he could wrap his arm around her. And he did. Anchoring her against him. She laid her head against his chest, the top resting just underneath his chin. He liked her tucked there.
She gave a soft sigh and then seemed to melt into him, her body sagging as if a great weight had been lifted off. Relief.
The scent of her hair tantalized him. Soft and sweet, like her. He ran his hand up the length of her arm, enjoying the feel of her skin and knowing that soon, he’d discover all of her flesh. But for now she needed comfort. Safety. A sense of security. She needed to know that he would never hurt her. Never raise his hand to her as Michael had done.