He raised his head when he heard her open the door, springing to his feet and advancing on her without a second thought until she tensed, averting her face as if anticipating a blow. He froze, his heart constricting at her obvious nervousness, watching her knuckles turn white from the grip she had on the over-sized hotel bathrobe. He consciously controlled the rage that threatened to surface and reined in his desire to slay her dragons, unclenching his fists and stepping closer hesitantly.
"Please don't be mad," he heard her whisper tiredly.
"Sue," he tried, stopping because she wasn't focused on him. Gently cupping her elbow despite her flinch, he waited. When she finally raised her head so that she could read him, he couldn't help the way his face tightened at what he saw.
She cowered, retreating from the sparks flaring from his eyes. Reaching up self-consciously, she pulled the robe more tightly around her and looked for a way to retreat but found none. "Please," she whispered, her voice cracking with the effort she was exerting to not fall apart in front of him, "I'm okay. These," she said, running her fingers over the darkening skin of her jaw, "Are just bruises. They'll fade."
His hand gently covered hers where it still rested on her face. "They shouldn't be there at all. Bruises are meant for knees and shins because of furniture that leaps out and gets in your way. You should never have a bruise anywhere near your face. You never should have had to go through what you did today."
Taking a deep breath she asked, "Have you talked to Lucy? Is she back?"
He nodded, his attention still fixated on her delicate features, marred at the hands of a supposed friend. Before he knew what he was doing, acting purely on instinct, he leaned forward and reverently kissed the purplish spots, careful not to make any sudden moves. Hearing her short, indrawn breath, he whispered a quick prayer of thanks that her injuries were not worse before straightening and offering her a crooked smile. "There you go, smelling good again."
The floodgates opened as she leaned forward, laying her head on his chest, her face burrowed in the nape of his neck. He sighed with relief as she surrendered her hold on her emotions. Bending, he scooped her up in his arms and headed for the couch. Keeping her in his embrace, he sat and cradled her tenderly, letting her cry, all the while whispering words from the hidden recesses of his heart, wondering why it was so hard to find the courage to do so when she was looking.
He had her fooled. She thought him brave, strong, capable and uninterested in her as a woman. She was wrong on all counts. The overwhelming feelings that were tied to her scared him. The thought of her being in danger or hurt the way she was today sent waves of terror through him. What if he wasn't enough for her? She could do so much better, deserved so much better. What if, once he admitted the way he felt, she didn't feel the same? He'd never heard her voice her desire to be married and have children the way Lucy constantly did. What if she was perfectly happy being single? He'd been that way, once, before her, but she had changed his outlook. The team had a good time kidding them about their chemistry, and he had to admit they did have that, but none of them knew the true desires of his heart; the way he longed to commit to her and raise a family. He truly meant what he said to D all those months ago about settling down and going home to a wife and family. When he allowed himself to think of the future and what was to come, she was always there. He only hoped she felt the same. But whether she did or didn't, he knew the time had finally come to find out once and for all.