Page 84 of The Verdict

To face the men who wanted to hurt me?Yes. To face him? The man I—no.

I adjusted the collar of the dress, giving myself one last thing to do before going out there.Just the thought of him seeing me in this made my nipples hard—something the material of the dress didn’t hide very well.

My heart fluttered as I opened the door,and my jaw went slack. I hardly recognized the man standing in front of me. Gone were the jeans and motorcycle leathers. In their place, the crisp seams of a black satin tuxedo stitched around a body made of muscle.

Unlike the rest of his motorcycle club, who would’ve looked nice but rough around the edges, Rhys oozed masculine elegance as though he was steeped in billions and tailor-made sex appeal.

Seeing him made me weak, but the way he looked at me… well, it tipped the entire world on its axis.

“Merritt.” Hot eyes raked over me like a man possessed, his jaw working overtime the way it clenched. He stepped back like he had to in order to breathe, allowing me to step out of the bathroom—and giving him a perfect display of just how high the slit in the side of the dress went.

And then I noticed his hand locked around something.

“What’s that?”

“For you, just in case,” he grunted, unraveling the knife sheathed in a leg holster.The only thing that would fit inconspicuously underneath this dress.“May I?”

My breath hitched, and I nodded.

He dropped down onto one knee, and I let myself gorge on all the fantasies that came with it. A ring. A future. A life.With him.Then his fingers skimmed my ankle, and thoughts vanished, replaced only by desire.

I wanted his touch—wanted his intimacy. We hadn’t been alone since I’d told him I was a cop—or about the diamond.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked like he could read my thoughts, his fingers stilling on my calf as he looked up.

“There was no reason for you to believe me.” I had no proof. Worse than that, there was only evidence to the contrary.

I inched my foot forward, giving his hands better access as they felt their way up my leg that was concealed by the closed side of the dress.

Hurt blanketed his gaze, and his hold tightened, moving up to my knee. “I would’ve believed you anyway.”

I tore my eyes away, hearing him say the words too painful because I knew them to be the truth. I knew from that very first night. I knew from the moment he’d taken a man’s life for assaulting me. Without questions. Without hesitation.

Rhys Garrick would’ve believed anything I’d told him—he had believed everything I’d told him.

“I was afraid of that,” I confessed.

“Of me believing you?”

“Of being able to trust someone.” I swallowed hard when his hands reached my thigh. The tension between us was dangerous—a lit match suspended above a pool of gasoline.

“You can trust me.” His voice was rough, broken up by the peel of the Velcro as he wrapped the holster around my upper thigh and secured the knife.

“I know.” I cupped my hand to his cheek, his fierce protectiveness the most precious gift I’d ever been given.“I was afraid to lose you.”

Maybe I was crazy—a fool for thinking a man like him, trained, determined, and deadly, needed protection. But I guess that was what love did—it made me fear that even the strongest of men might not be strong enough.

“You won’t.”Real.Holding my gaze, his hand slid higher.Closer and closer. My core trembled. Ached. Cried for his touch.

“Rhys…” The beat in my chest tore at the seams of my heart, bursting with another truth. I more than trusted him. I more than feared losing him.I loved him.

“I promise, you won’t,” he repeated, and as soon as his fingertips brushed my sex, my knees went weak.

My sharp inhale audibly sliced through the room. “Fuck, Merritt,” he snarled, pushing two fingers inside me with a groan. “You’re not wearing underwear.”

“I can’t. Not with this dress,” I panted as his thumb tweaked over my clit and I dissolved into a puddle of moans.

I love you.The words were everywhere. In my mouth. On my lips. Stitched to my skin. Threaded into the beat of my heart.

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