Page 52 of The Redemption of Remy St. Claire

The night air cooled his overheated skin. Snagging a blanket, he pulled it around his shoulders. Her shivers and sobs had eased, but she still shook. He ached from the desire to soothe. After Sissy, he’d promised himself he’d never become so emotionally invested in another person. Marriage to Remy seemed simple. They didn’t love each other, so that’d lessen the entanglements.

What the hell were you thinking?He wasn’t built like that. He wasn’t programmed for casual sex, and the thought of a one-night stand left him cold. His reason for being was to connect with other people. His family, the girls, Sissy…they meant everything to him. Now Remy’d taken Sissy’s place. Not just figuratively, but emotionally as well. He was invested in her and cared about her. He wanted to take away her pain.

“I’m sorry.”

Her words were so quiet, he almost didn’t believe she uttered them. “You have nothing to be sorry for. I’m the one who should be apologizing. You tried to tell me, but I wouldn’t listen.” He hesitated. “Can we talk about this? Can you tell me what just happened?”

“It won’t do any good, Rusty. That’s what I tried to tell you. I can’t be what you deserve. We need to go down to the court on Monday and get this marriage annulled.”

Her words were a punch to the gut. “We needn’t do that. I think you’re overreacting. We just need to talk about this rationally.”

“There is no talking. Don’t you get it? I’m broken. Nothing you say or do will ever fix me.”

Closing his eyes, he fought the bile rising in his gorge. Talk about déjà vu—because this was Sissy all over again. Someone who believed herself so broken, she couldn’t even see how much he wanted to help.

“I want to go to the bathroom.”

What? He wasn’t going to stop her.

Oh.

She was naked.

He groped for his T-shirt. “Take this. I’ll turn away.” After she grabbed it, he turned away from her, as promised.

She fumbled with the lamp, almost knocking it over.

The light snapped on—bright on his eyes after the virtual darkness that’d enveloped them. He resisted the temptation to turn when the bathroom door closed. He’d made a promise.

At least this was a vow he could keep.

Chapter twenty-one

Remytuggedviciouslyather hair, pulling out all the pins Olivia had put in just hours ago. Once her hair was free, she finger combed it. Looking presentable was impossible, but Rusty wouldn’t care about that anyway. It surprised her he hadn’t called for the little men in white coats, because she was certifiable. Had gone crazy on him. For just a moment, had gone crazy on herself.

She splashed cold water on her face. If she stayed too long, he’d worry. He was like that. Despite everything she’d put him through, he’d worry about her. He’d care about her. He’d treat her as if she were something special instead of the deranged woman she was.

Life was so goddamned complicated. And now she didn’t just have herself to worry about. When she’d been with other guys in the past and it hadn’t worked out, she’d shrugged it off, believed she’d learned her lesson, sworn off men, and gone back to work. Now, though, she had Caleigh. She had a little girl depending on her. And that meant she needed to provide stability.

Rusty was that security—for both of them.

She inhaled deeply and took in the smell of him. She wore his T-shirt, but still she was surprised. The smell comforted. Just like the man. Strong but not overpowering. Reassuring but not smothering.

If only she’d managed to have sex with the other men. If only she wasn’t acting like a frightened virgin. Because she wasn’t. She knew she wasn’t. Physically, anyway. Emotionally was a whole other can of worms.

Why can’t I have a normal relationship?

One like her parents enjoyed. They’d been married more than twenty-five years before the accident that’d claimed their lives. That’d shattered her life beyond all recognition.

As she gazed into the mirror, she didn’t recognize the woman before her. She was staid, boring, and dependable Remy St. Claire. She did her job in the prosecutor’s office to the very best of her ability. She put bad guys in jail. Hopefully for a very long time. She provided comfort to victims. She protected potential future victims.

Yet, in the crucial moment of her life, she’d failed.

That failure burned her cheeks as heat flared.

Not tonight. Don’t think about it tonight.

No, she had enough shit on her plate to last her a lifetime. She had a daughter, a step-daughter, and—unbelievably—a husband.

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