Page 46 of Some Saviors Can Break You

“That’s a pretty good description,” she said.

“I'm observant, I notice details even when I'm not really paying attention,” he replied.

“Do you think that if you saw him again, you’d recognize him?” Jake asked.

Eli shrugged. “Maybe.”

“I'm going to set you up with a sketch artist,” Jake announced. “Do you have any idea who the man was?”

Florence considered this. There had been something familiar about him, but her memories of the assault were still hazy. Bit by bit, they were coming back to her, but right now, it was like looking at it through a pair of glasses that weren't prescribed for her, everything was blurry and trying to focus on it made her head hurt.

Reluctantly, she shook her head, then winced at the movement. “There was something familiar about him, but I can't put my finger on it.”

“It will come to you, don’t push too hard,” Eli told her.

“He’s right,” Jake agreed. “When you stop trying it will come back. All right, is there anything else either of you can think of that seems important?”

“No,” she said, and Eli shook his head.

“I think you should probably go now, she needs her rest,” Eli told Jake.

“All right, I’ll see myself out. Take care of yourself, Florence, and call if you need anything. If either of you remembers something, you call me.”

Once Jake was gone her eyelids grew heavy. This concussion was wiping her out.

“Close your eyes, princess, take a nap.” Eli stood, then removed one of the pillows behind her and helped her lie down, making sure the blanket was tucked around her so she didn't get cold. Then he stood beside her and stroked her cheek and smoothed her hair.

This was nice.

Having someone take care of her like this.

Any boyfriends she’d ever had she’d held at arms-length, not letting them get close enough to care for her when she was sick.

But here was Eli, a wealthy businessman with a billion-dollar company that no doubt needed his attention who had only known her a week, tending to her, fussing over her, caring for her.

“Sleep, sweetheart, I got you,” he whispered as her eyes fluttered closed, and she drifted off to sleep.

3:28 P.M.

He watched her sleep.

She looked so relaxed, so carefree, like in slumber the weight of the world was no longer crushing her.

Eli liked seeing Florence like this. He wanted to help her be this way when she was awake. It didn't take a genius to figure out she was dealing with some heavy stuff, and as much as he wanted to convince her to tell him, let him help her carry the burden, if he pushed too hard she would only shut down.

He could have lost her today.

He’d known that she was in danger, that someone was watching her, he should have insisted that she come and stay with him until she and her cop buddies figured out who it was. Instead, he had ignored his instincts because he was trying so hard not to mess this up.

Florence had become very important to him in a very short amount of time, and he was beating himself up about thinking that she’d been leading him on and seeing someone else, while she’d been lying unconscious in her apartment. He should have recognized her leap of faith in trusting him with her past for what it was, her saying without actually saying it, that she felt the same thing he did growing between them.

She stirred on the couch, her eyes blinking sleepily open.

“Hey, Sleeping Beauty,” he said, leaning forward from the armchair where he’d been sitting watching her sleep, and cupped her cheek in his hand, touching a kiss to her forehead.

“Hey,” she mumbled, struggling into a sitting position and wincing.

“You shouldn’t be moving about, actually you shouldn’t even be awake, you were only out for forty minutes, you need more sleep.”

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