“Do you have anything to wear?” she asked awkwardly.

“I can sleep in my clothes.”

Her brows furrowed. “But what about tomorrow? The meeting, I mean. I know how important it is. I don’t want to screw it up for you, Jensen.”

“I’ll get up early enough to go home and shower and change and then I’ll come back by to pick you up,” he said easily.

“Uhm . . . okay,” she finally conceded and then closed her eyes, wondering what had possessed her. Maybe she was finally losing what little of her sanity she’d retained.

He kicked off his shoes and then unbuttoned the neck of his shirt and slipped his belt off, tossing everything to the side. Then he motioned for her to slip underneath the covers. He moved to the other side, careful to keep distance between them even as he slid underneath the covers with her. Then, facing her, he lifted his left arm and extended the cuffs to her with his right hand, motioning for her to secure his wrist to the headboard.

Dear God, had it really come to this? That she couldn’t have a man in bed with her without handcuffing him so he was no threat? She wished she was brave enough to tell him it wasn’t necessary. The rational part of herself told her it was exactly what she should do. And not return his generosity and his care of her with mistrust. But the irrational part that controlled so much of her thoughts and actions told her she’d be a fool not to ensure her safety.

Carefully she cuffed his wrist to one of the slats of the headboard and then leaned back, biting into her bottom lip.

“It doesn’t look comfortable,” she said in consternation.

“I’ll survive,” he said dryly. “I’ve slept in far worse conditions.”

“I’m sorry,” she said softly.

He glanced curiously at her, reaching out to touch her chin with his free hand. “What are you sorry for, baby?”

She closed her eyes. “That I’m not brave enough to let you sleep here without the handcuffs. That I’m too much of a coward to refuse your unselfish gesture. I’m the selfish one, Jensen. I’m sorry I’m not as strong as you.”

His expression gentled as he cupped her chin, brushing the pad of his thumb over her jaw.

“It’s a start that you’re even allowing me in your bed, with or without handcuffs. I’ll take that gift, no matter how it’s given.”

She flushed at the promise in his voice. The promise that he’d be there again, that there would be another occasion and that this wasn’t a freak occurrence. No, it wouldn’t happen again. She wouldn’t let it. She’d agreed to this lunacy in a moment of weakness. The weakness she loathed so much. Because she didn’t want to be alone for just one night.

But she wouldn’t allow it again.

“Ready for lights-out?” she asked lightly.

He nodded, his gaze still on her like a warm blanket.

She reached behind her to turn off the lamp and then turned back, snuggling under the covers, trying not to focus on the fact that Jensen was mere inches away. She could hear his soft breathing. Could feel his warmth reaching out to her, enfolding her in its tender embrace.

“Going to get the closet light too?” he asked.

She was glad it wasn’t light enough that he could see her embarrassed flush.

“No,” she said quietly. “I leave it on. I don’t like to sleep in total darkness. Does it bother you?”

“Anything that brings you comfort doesn’t bother me,” he said, further baffling her with his statement.

The man was twisting her in knots. For weeks he’d baited her, annoyed her, pissed her off, and now he was treating her so very gently. As if she was something precious and fragile. She was in way over her head and despite what he’d said about giving her complete control tonight, she felt anything but in control. Her mind—and heart—were in utter chaos. Her head was spinning so fast it was a wonder she could even breathe. No, she definitely was not in control.

Because even handcuffed to her bed, there was little doubt that Jensen was controlling the situation.

It should by all rights terrify her. She should be running as fast and as hard as possible in the opposite direction. But something stopped her. And she didn’t know what. There was a promise of something in his eyes that made her want to find out what. And whether she had any hope of ever moving beyond her past and into the present.

JENSEN woke with a start and cursed viciously under his breath. Kylie was curled into a protective ball on the far edge of the bed. Out of his reach. A low whimper tore out of her throat followed by more sounds of terror.

She sounded like a frightened child. And in many ways she was still that frightened, vulnerable child she’d been while she suffered abuse at her father’s hands.

This was why he’d insisted on staying with her. After her panic attack at the restaurant he’d been certain she’d suffer nightmares, that her past would be hovering on the fringes of her consciousness, just waiting for when she was asleep and vulnerable to attack.

And he couldn’t get to her, helpless to watch as she struggled against invisible monsters. Damn him for insisting on the handcuffs, even if he’d have done anything to make her feel safe. Because now he couldn’t hold her, couldn’t soothe her when she was in the throes of terror.

“Kylie. Baby, wake up. You’re safe. You’re with me. Wake up, baby.”

For a moment she was too firmly entrenched in the grasp of her nightmare to respond to his gentle crooning. Then she came awake with a gasp, sitting upright in bed, eyes wild and enormous in her small face. She looked straight ahead, pulling her knees protectively to her chest, and rocked back and forth.

Then she buried her face in her knees, and he could hear the muffled sounds of her sobs.

It broke his heart. Ripped him right in two. His heart was as shattered as hers, her agony his. Her heartbreak his own. Never had he felt so helpless, so full of despair that this beautiful, fragile woman was still a prisoner of her past.

“Come here, baby,” he said gently, praying she wouldn’t refuse his overture.

To his surprise, she didn’t argue. She turned, nearly diving into his one-armed embrace. Then she reached back to her nightstand for the key to the cuffs, fumbling to unlock them, yanking desperately until he was free.

He instantly wrapped both arms around her, pulling her against his body. She clung to him like a burr, her heart pounding against his. Her face was wet with tears and her breaths were coming in ragged puffs as she struggled to gain control.

“Shhh, baby. I’ve got you,” he soothed. “Nothing can hurt you now. I swear it. Let it go. Don’t let it control you any longer.”

He stroked her hair, kissing the top of her head, waiting for her to calm. To realize she was safe and that he had her. That nothing would hurt her when he was near.

“I’m sorry. Sorry, sorry,” she chanted, the words muffled against his chest.

“No, baby. Don’t apologize. Never apologize for this.”

He rubbed his hand down her back, stroking and caressing until he could feel some of the knotted tension leave her body. She wilted, sagging against him, her face buried in his chest.

Her shoulders still shook and he knew she was still crying. Every tear gutted him. Made his heart ache for all the hurt she’d endured. For the hurt she still experienced each and every night.

“Just let me hold you,” he said softly, allowing all the tenderness he felt for her into those simple words. “Go back to sleep now. I’ve got you. Nothing can hurt you here.”

She gave a little sigh and settled against him, her body sheltered by his own. Their legs tangled and she wiggled as if trying to get as close as possible to him.

He thought for a moment that she’d followed his directive and had drifted back into sleep. But then she went still. He could feel her pulse, a rapid staccato against his chest. She tensed as if gathering her courage to say something.

Instinctively, he tightened his arms around her, offering her silent encouragement.

“I hate this,” she said in a broken voice. A statement she’d made multiple times when it came to her weaknesses, as she deemed them.

He rubbed one hand up and down her arm, from shoulder to wrist, before tangling their fingers together, squeezing so she felt the support he offered.

“I hate him,” she whispered. “For what he did to me. To us. Me and Carson. I hate my mother for leaving us with him. I get why she would want out. But why would she leave us, knowing what a monster he was? Sometimes I think I hate her more than even him. How screwed up is that?”

Jensen knew that he was seeing a side of Kylie she hid from the rest of the world. That she was opening up to him when she firmly held back that part of herself from everyone else.

He was humbled and grateful that she’d chosen him. He realized it was due to proximity and the fact he’d forced himself into her bed, but he’d take whatever he could however he could get it. In time, she’d come to him willingly. Would open up to him without reservation or hesitation. Until then he’d satisfy himself with whatever tidbits she allowed to slip through her carefully guarded barriers.

“It’s not screwed up at all, baby. She abandoned you. And not just simply abandoned you but left you with a man she knew would harm you. You have every reason to hate her. I hope to hell you don’t spend even a minute feeling guilt over your feelings about your mother. You should have no guilt for hating the two people who should have loved and protected you. Two people you should have been able to turn to when you could turn to no one else. They betrayed you, Kylie. You don’t betray them now by hating them and what they did to you.”

“Thank you,” she said so quietly he almost didn’t hear the aching softness of her voice.

He squeezed her, holding on to her, never wanting to let her go.

“You’re more than welcome, baby. But I want you to promise me something, okay?”

She shifted in his arms and pulled her head away to look at him, though her lips trembled and he could tell it was difficult for her to meet his gaze. She was mortified that he was witnessing her at her most vulnerable. It made him want to kiss her all the more, but he refused to take advantage of her when she was so achingly fragile. It would make him a complete asshole.

When he was certain he had her full attention, he let one finger drift down the line of her cheekbone and then to her chin.

“In the morning, when this night is but a memory, and you think back on all that’s happened, promise me you won’t have a single moment of regret. Promise me that you won’t be embarrassed or uncomfortable with what has occurred between us. Promise me that you won’t start avoiding me even more than you do already. Some things are inevitable, Kylie. You and I are inevitable. No matter how much you fight it. No matter how much you deny it. We are inevitable.

“What you’ve given me tonight is very precious and I’ll forever be humbled and grateful that you put your trust in me. That you allowed me inside those carefully constructed barriers that you erect to keep the rest of the world at bay. But I’ve seen inside. I’ve seen the real you, baby. And that’s the person I want.”

Her brow furrowed in concentration and her lips pursed and then fell open as if she couldn’t quite form a response.

He put his fingers over those lush lips, not wanting to hear anything but her assent.

“Promise me,” he whispered in a husky tone.

She closed her eyes but finally nodded.

“Give me the words, your promise. I need to hear them. We both do. Because one thing about you, baby, is that you’re loyal. And you’re honest. And once you give your word, you won’t go back on it. So give me your promise. Let me hear it. Do this much for me.”

“I promise,” she whispered, her voice cracking under the strain of having to capitulate.

He leaned forward and brushed his lips over hers. Just a light kiss. Nothing like what he truly wanted. Just something warm and comforting, meant to soothe and not overwhelm.

“Now go to sleep, baby. Here in my arms where nothing can hurt you. I’ll be right here. This time when you dream, dream of me.”

She snuggled back into his arms to his immense satisfaction and then gave a soft sigh, closing her eyes as she pillowed her head on his shoulder.

He lay there awake, long after she finally drifted into a dreamless sleep. Staring up at the ceiling as he pondered the puzzle that was Kylie Breckenridge. What was he going to do with her?