Reese slowly rose and walked over to her. The moment he grazed her shoulder, a strangled sound came out of her. She tried to pull away from his touch.
“Shay . . .” he rasped. To hell with it. Reese took the biggest risk he had taken in the last two years. Reaching out, he gripped her shoulder and turned her gently toward him. The look on Shay’s face pulverized him as she pressed her hand to her lips, looking up at him. He felt gutted.
“Come here,” he said roughly, hauling her into his arms, holding her tightly against him.
Nothing had ever felt so good as Shay pressed against him, her face buried in his shirt as she sobbed. The sounds of hurt scored his heart and Reese closed his eyes, holding her, feeling her entire body tremble with weeping. He felt his shirt dampen where her tears fell.
When her arms went around his waist, he groaned, sliding one hand into her soft, thick hair, holding her tenderly. His other hand came to rest against the small of her back. Mouth thin, Reese closed his eyes as he rested his chin against her hair, inhaling the scent of oranges from the shampoo she had used that morning.
“Just let it all out, Shay,” he whispered raggedly against her ear. Her hair was silky against his nose and cheek as her arms tightened even more around him. The warmth of Shay, her softness, her woman’s strength, all conspired heavily against Reese. She was crying so hard, shaking in his arms, that his chest imploded with grief, care, and something he never thought he’d ever feel again. It scared the hell out of him, feeling love so vibrant, so real, that it made him freeze for a moment. No! It couldn’t be. What was going on?
Assailed by the violent flood of shocking emotions tunneling through him as Shay cried, her face buried against his chest, Reese felt his entire world shifting. The sensation was real. The emotions . . . oh, God, they were too real, too needy, too hungry. He felt guilt and shame overwhelm him.
He buried his face in her hair, absorbing the contact, her feminine scent, her arms around him. The urge to kiss her, to comfort her even more, seized him.
Gently, he slid his hand from her hair and down across her back, and up again. What he wanted to do—and what he should do—were two different things. Shay needed comfort. Not a kiss from him. He wanted to make love to her and he knew it was the wrong thing to be thinking about at that moment. He was so starved for a woman’s touch, a beggar greedily taking from Shay, when he should be giving back to her, instead. How little he had to give her. Reese felt terrible that he’d sunk so far down he didn’t have the compassion he’d had before starting his slide into oblivion.
It didn’t matter. He would summon everything left in him that still had a shred of integrity, and give it to Shay.
Reese drew her solidly against him, whispering low, gruff words of comfort against her ear, hoping she’d hear them through her sobs. Each time he grazed her hair with his hand, her sobs lessened a little bit more. He was helping her. Reese was grateful . . .
Her arms began to loosen a little around his waist, so he eased up on how tightly he was holding her. When she nuzzled her cheek against his chest, he groaned. He couldn’t stop the pleasurable sound. Just the softness of her cheek against his hard-muscled chest, sent frissons of fire licking down through his body and settling hotly in his groin. The woman didn’t realize how she affected him and Reese couldn’t blame her. Shay’s actions were innocent, seeking solace, not sex, from him. And he damn well knew the difference, placing a choke chain on his own sexual hunger. He forced himself to translate those needs into something far more compassionate, for Shay’s sake.
“There,” he murmured, holding his hand on her sagging shoulders, “that’s better . . .” To his surprise, his thick words had an effect upon her. Shay made a muffled sound against his chest, eyes closed, as if needing his continued nearness. That, Reese could give her honestly without thoughts of sex. It tore him up to think of her savaged by her father. But this time, her reaction was the worst one he’d seen following a visit to Ray Crawford. Shay was devastated. And so was he, but in a different way, because Reese wanted to protect her. How could Shay stand to be torn up like this so often? So continually? Her strength was more than Reese had ever realized.
To whisper to her that everything would be all right, Reese knew would be an outright lie. A child and parent relationship lasted forever, even after the parent died. The emotions, the branding by her parents on Shay as a child, lasted forever. He felt so damned helpless, wanting desperately to comfort her but knowing his platitudes would be empty words.