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her shoulders, trying desperately to wake her from whatever nightmare she’s reliving.
    She thrashes against me, her mouth open in a silent gasp as though she’s trying to scream. But no sound comes out.
    Her eyes open, wide and unseeing. She fights me when I try to hold her, but I don’t let go.
    “I’ve got you.”
    She glances frantically around the room, then at me. I see the moment she remembers where she is, remembers who I am. She goes limp in my arms like all the fight has been ripped from her.
    “Henry?” She blinks up at me, the blue of her eyes so vivid it takes my breath away.
    “You’re all right, sweetheart.” I brush her hair off her face. Her forehead is damp with perspiration, cheeks stained with tears.
    The utter hopelessness in her gaze breaks something deep in my chest.
    I know with every cell in my body that she’s the girl from my dreams. The one I swore to defend.
    Twenty years ago I gave her something I’ve never given another woman – my vow. It may have been spoken with a child’s voice, but it’s the man’s heart that will honor it now.
    She tries to push away from me, but I tighten my hold.
    “I need to find Drew,” she whispers, grief thick in her voice.
    “We’ll find him. I promise.”
    Slowly, I feel her relax against me.
    “It was just a nightmare. I’ve got you.” I hold her face between my hands, stroking her cheeks with the pads of my thumbs.
    Her face is clean of makeup, and I see in the earlier morning light how beautiful she really is. Not that fake, made-up beauty, but the real kind. The kind of beauty that can break a man’s soul and make him do all kinds of fucked up things.
    Shit, I haven’t even kissed the woman, but I know I’m in deeper than I ever thought possible. There’s nothing I won’t do to make her mine. To make sure no one ever hurts her again.
    I brush my lips over her forehead, and let out a low, uneven breath.
    We lay like that for several minutes, her body molded against mine.
    “I’m sorry,” she says softly, her small fists clenched against my bare chest. She’s still trembling, but it’s no longer from fear. I can almost smell her arousal, it’s so thick between us. She blinks up at me, blue eyes wanting, needing, and so fucking vulnerable. “I should go.”
    No chance in hell, sweetheart.
    Her robe has come undone, exposing her shoulder and the top of one breast. I trace the outline of the tattoo that runs along her clavicle and across. I noticed it last night, some kind of flower – a lily, I think. I don’t usually like tattoos, but on her it’s sexy.
    I lower my mouth, tasting the skin, running my tongue over the ink.
    “Henry?” I hear the mixed emotions in her voice. Fear mixed with want.
    “Let me take care of you.” My hand slips under the robe, brushing over her breast, the nipple hardening against my touch. I have to stifle the groan that builds in my throat.
    Her hands start to go lower, fingers edging under the elastic of my boxer briefs.
    I capture her wrists. I know what she intends, but I don’t want to rush things. I’m going to take my time. Devour every inch of her body.
    Her brows furrow, and her bottom lip sticks out in a small pout.
    I chuckle, wrapping her arms around my neck.
    “I said I’m going to take care of you .” I can tell it’s not something she’s used to. But the primal part of my brain wants nothing more than to consume her, torment her until she surrenders fully, and admits she’s mine.
    With my knee, I nudge her legs apart, and trail my hand down her hip, pushing the robe back and exposing every delectable inch of her.
    “So fucking gorgeous.”
    For a moment, I’m lost in her beauty and my chest tightens with emotions I’ve never felt before.
    I cup her cheek and run my thumb across her bottom lip. Her mouth parts slightly, her gaze hungry and wanting.
    The first touch of our lips and I know I’m a goner.
    She arches beneath me, her fingers digging into my shoulder and I