Page 26 of Lesson In Forgiveness

She was exhausted, disassociated, lost.

A growl rumbled in his chest. Standing, he held out his hand. “Stand up, little tiger.” When she barely registered the command, he deepened his voice. “Tabitha. Take my hand and stand up.”

Her fingers slipped into his, cold and stiff. Muttering to himself, he pulled her to her feet, then hooked his arm around her waist and hoisted her out of the tub. Releasing her before she reacted, he turned to jam the plug into the hole and set the water running.

“I need to get something from the living room,” he told her. “Get undressed, little tiger, and use a towel to cover up.”

The chances she’d do as he told her were slim to none. He doubted she’d even heard his voice in whatever hole she was stuck in. Still, he left her alone while he hurried back into the main space and used the in-house phone to call room service.

Upon his return to the bathroom, he found Tabitha exactly as he’d left her, shrouded in the growing cloud of steam from the water. What the hell was powerful enough to trigger her like this?

Women liked gloopy crap in their baths, right? Not that he was sure she was a girlie girl type of woman, but even a killer lunatic might appreciate that little luxury.

Grit rifled through the complimentary bottles stuffed into a long rack above the tub, finding shower gel, shampoo, conditioner, even shaving gel. Plucking one of the larger bottles from its spot, he popped the cap and took a sniff.

Apple and cinnamon.

Christ, she was going to smell like apple pie; his favorite dessert.

Pouring a hefty dollop of bubble bath into the water, he set the bottle back, and with his heart in his throat, faced Tabitha with wariness. It didn’t matter that she knew him, had shared an intimate moment or two with him; what she knew, what she remembered, didn’t come into play here.

“Tabitha, you can either undress yourself or I’ll do it for you. Are you listening to me?” He set his hands lightly on her shoulders, feeling the lack of tension. She was in limp mode, barely functioning. “Hoodie first, okay?”

“Don’t be nice to me.” Her arms lifted.

“I’m always nice to people who look like their world just collapsed and burst into flames.” Shaking his head, he grasped the hem of her hoodie, drawing it up and off. While her arms were still high, he slipped off the tank top she wore beneath. “What happened, sweetheart?”

“I kill people for a living.”

“Yeah, I know.” Grit flicked open the front clasp of her bra, frowning as she kept her arms raised straight. Snagging her wrists, he lowered them before sliding the bra off. “Been doing it for a long time, Tabitha. Sounds like you’re damn good at it.”

“I guess.” She closed her eyes. “Someone wants to kill me.”

So, she was aware of the hit. She didn’t appear surprised or upset by the threat—she was a woman with her finger on the pulse of that kind of thing, because it was her kind of business.

“I can’t imagine it’s the first time.” Stepping back, he switched the water off. “There’s always someone with a grudge, right, or who wants to knock the top dog off the pedestal.”

Her faint laugh was bitter. “Top dog. Ashford doesn’t think so.”

“Ashford?”

“Brother,” she mumbled. “Asshole.”

“Asshole brother, got it. He doesn’t think you’re top dog?” Grit lowered to one knee, easing her pants down cautiously. She seemed oblivious to the fact he was systematically stripping her down to the skin.

“I’m a child to them.” Her bottom lip quivered before she bit it.

Now they were getting to the root of the matter, he thought, steadfastly ignoring the long, slim thighs in front of his face, and the pretty blue panties covering a place he really shouldn’t be even thinking about.

He unlaced the heavy boots on her feet, picking each foot up and wiggling the shitkickers off, followed by each pant leg. The panties joined the pile of discarded clothing, and he still had all of his teeth.

“Little tiger, from what I know, you were never given the chance to be a child. I doubt your brothers see you as anything but a strong, capable, woman dominating a typically male-specific field.” Rising, he made a concerted effort not to look anywhere south of her chin. “What did the asshole say to make you upset?”

Evidently, it was the wrong question to ask; she fell silent again, worrying her lip until blood began to show.

Grit blew out a breath, lifting his hand to set his fingers beneath her chin and using his thumb to pop her lip free before she mangled it. “Why did you come here, Tabitha?”

“I… I needed you.”

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