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sensation rippling through her nerves, sweeping away the debris inside her like a hot, scorching wind.
    “Chloe.” He repeated it then, and though he held her face in a gentle grip, it was unshakable. She closed her eyes. “Tell me again what you want. I need to hear it. What do you want?”
    What was it in his voice that pulled her out of that whirlwind, even as she tried to claw back to it, wanting to spit at him? But he said her name again, in a whisper this time. Just her name.
    “Chloe.”
    It became an echo through all those empty spaces, the places she hadn‟t known were empty, or maybe they hadn‟t been. Whatever had populated those rooms was gone, and she wasn‟t sure how to bring back the comfortable, quirky furnishings that had been there before.
    “I want to be me again. I want to feel safe.”
    A sigh left him, a warm breath that caressed her face as he curved his hand around the back of her neck then, bringing her face into his chest. She‟d been close to him a moment before, pressed tight, but this was somehow closer, maybe because some of that tension left her and she melted into him in truth. Her arms slid up under his again so she could flatten her palms over his shoulder blades, her nose burying in his chest, seeking the comfort of shirt and skin and their nice smells. His other arm wrapped around her waist, holding her between his braced legs so close. He was still aroused, but it was a natural, easy pleasure now, a reminder of all the wonderful things it meant, that were possible.

    She prided herself on being independent, but she welcomed the subtle message he‟d been sending to her with that blue bow on the Rottweiler. Male, protective.
    How long they stood like that, she wasn‟t sure, but he held her while the sun warmed the Jeep and emanated against her. Myriad bugs, frogs and other creatures that lived in the thicket of tangled foliage she‟d encouraged around her cottage sang, chirped and made their discordant morning noises. Clicks, sawing violins, pops.
    Sounds hard to describe, but everyone understood the feeling, the familiar reassurance of them, that came on a sunny early morning. Much like this feeling.
    He brushed his lips across her forehead. “Why don‟t I take you to work now?” His mouth pulled in a smile against her temple. “But if you want to revisit that other idea later, I won‟t object.”
    * * * * *
    In fact, Brendan knew if she‟d made the demand once more, he would have swung her up in his arms and taken the stairs two at a time, even knowing it was the wrong thing. Well, wrong was the incorrect word. It would have been sweaty, slick and satisfying to the parts of their bodies that were impatient with emotions, though. But he knew how it would have played out. Shame would have drowned her because “I want to have a rough fuck with somebody I barely know” didn‟t mesh with the Chloe he‟d met at the wedding, or talked to in such an extraordinary way on the phone a mere few hours ago. He didn‟t want to lose that Chloe. He was more than a little concerned she was in danger of losing it herself.
    The person he‟d met at the wedding had let her emotions lead her, despite her injuries and close brush with death. He knew magical nights like that made nightmares temporarily go away, but even so, he‟d sensed he‟d been talking to the real Chloe.
    Unabashed, unrepressed. That Chloe might have made the impetuous decision to make love to him so quickly, but if she did, it would be because she felt a connection that told her coming together physically would be a joyous, fulfilling experience. Where, if there wasn‟t love, there would be learning, friendship, laughter, things worth taking the emotional risk.
    Her desire to be taken now, such an abrupt, harsh and cruelly worded decision, was just the opposite of that. She was completely shielded, the quick desire a way to avoid or outrun her feelings, not open them.
    He understood all that. But he had his own needs