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He’d been an uneducated man who didn’t see the value in books and learning, especially not for a woman. Her mother was a weak woman. A frightened one who’d lost herself in a liquor bottle whenever possible. Missy had vowed to be different.

She’d stuck it out at home until she was finished high school and then she’d taken off. She hadn’t been home since. Hadn’t called. She knew her parents were still alive because she spoke to her older sister on occasion. She ignored her two brothers who were carbon copies of their father, or at least they had been when they were growing up.

“Hey.” T.S. touched her face and she jumped. Concern filled his eyes. “Where did you go?”

She shook her head. She wasn’t going there. Not with him. Not with anyone.

“Why don’t you get a hot bath while I clean up in here. You’ve got to be feeling stiff this morning.”

“Are you for real?” As much as she wanted to, Missy couldn’t quite trust him. Not outside the bedroom. Not in everyday life. Her more cynical side said he was showing her his best side so he could get her back into bed again.

“As real as it gets, babe.” He kissed her forehead and then pulled her from her chair. “Go on.” He nibbled at her nape. As if on cue her nipples puckered and her toes curled. Damn the man. She tilted her head slightly to the left to give him better access.

He growled and playfully nipped the side of her neck. His tongue soothed the small sting. Missy closed her eyes and shivered with desire. His breath was warm on her ear. “None of that now. You need to get that bath and relax. Rest.” He traced the whorl of her ear before stepping back.

She pried her eyes open and walked out of the room, not looking back. If she did she’d probably do something stupid like jump his tasty bones and have mindless sex with him on the kitchen floor. It was a very near thing. She almost turned back once. But she stayed strong and made it to the bathroom. She shut the door with a frustrated thump.

Bastard. He got her all wound up and then left her hanging. On the other hand, she’d felt the bulge pushing at her butt when he’d been teasing her. She wasn’t the only one frustrated at the moment. That made her feel slightly better.

She ran hot water into the tub and added some soothing bath salts before removing her robe and climbing in. When the tub was full, she leaned back and tried to relax as water lapped at her skin. She didn’t have any idea what time it was and didn’t care. She felt strangely dislocated from reality, cut off from life.

As the steam and heat began to do their job, her eyes drifted shut. A violent image blindsided her. One of her attackers’ faces popped into her brain. She could see in his eyes the intent to hurt her. Feel his hands gripping her, bruising her as he ripped at her dress.

She gasped and her eyes flew open. Her heart was racing, beating against her chest. “Oh God.” She placed her hand over her heart and took a deep breath. “You’re okay.” She repeated the phrase over and over until her heartbeat slowed and her breathing eased.

That was…unpleasant. She’d never had a panic attack before. She decided she didn’t like them. Not at all.

Control was the key for her. The mantra by which she lived her life. Now she felt as though she was unraveling from the inside out. The doctor had warned her she might react this way. Although she hadn’t been seriously injured she had been through a traumatic situation. One that would take her time to get over.

She’d almost laughed at the doctor. She was tough. This was no big deal. She’d been through plenty of violent episodes growing up. But this one had been different. There was no reason behind this attack. She’d been a random victim.

Maybe it was because she’d believed herself impervious to such things now that she was a grown woman. As a child, she’d been a victim of domestic violence. It had made her a strong and sure woman. But not anymore.

“Bullshit,” she muttered. She was still that woman. She’d get past this like she had every other challenge in her life.

A light knock came on the door. “Missy, can you take a phone call?” Before she could tell him no, he continued. “It’s Candy.”

She had to take that or her friend would be over here in a heartbeat. Plus, what must Candy be thinking with T.S. answering the phone? “Give me a second,” she called.

Missy all but jumped out of the bath, ignoring the various complaints of her body, and pulled the plug for the water to drain. She toweled off quickly and yanked on her robe. Her hair was starting to frizz because of the steam. She grabbed a bottle from the vanity, spritzed some product in her hand and dragged it through her short hair. It wasn’t perfect, but it would have to do for the moment.

She pulled open the door and T.S. was waiting in the hallway, leaning against the wall. She wished he’d put on the scrub top they’d given him at the hospital last night. Seeing all that hard, male flesh was giving her the hot flashes.

No, it was simply the heat from the bath. Nothing more.

Liar, her conscience screamed at her. She sniffed at it, not willing to admit it was right. T.S. was quickly becoming an addiction.

She took the phone and headed toward the living room. “Hey, Candy. What are you doing calling me today? You’re supposed to still be celebrating your wedding.” There, that sounded normal enough.

Her friend laughed. “I more than celebrated last night.” There was a satisfied note in Candy’s voice that made Missy smile. She had no doubt that Lucas had kept his new wife up until past dawn celebrating.

Missy glanced at the clock on the DVR as she sank down onto her sofa and was shocked to see it was already noon. Breakfast had really been brunch. It wasn’t like her to sleep so late. She supposed she could be excused because of everything that had happened last night—the wedding, the attack, the hot sex with T.S.

“How are you? Really?”

Candy’s concern brought tears to Missy’s eyes and she blinked them back. “I’m fine. Really.”

“No you’re not.” That was the thing about your best girlfriend. She could tell when you weren’t telling the truth. “I’m just glad that T.S. stayed over last night. Neither one of you should have been alone last night. How is his arm?”

Missy realized then that Candy had no idea she and T.S. had spent the night together, in bed. She thought he’d stayed on the sofa. “He says he’s okay, but I’m not buying it.”

She shot him a glare. Instead of being put off by it like most men were, he smiled at her, blew her a kiss and headed back to the kitchen. Because of the open concept of the apartment, she could see he was finishing the dishes. The table was bare, the counter was clear and the clean dishes had been put away. The muscles in his back flexed and rippled as he scrubbed the frying pan.

“Missy?”

How long had Candy been trying to get her attention? “Sorry. What did you say?”

“I asked if you wanted me to come over.”

“Absolutely not.” Missy sat forward, twitching the bottom of her robe closed when it splayed open, displaying quite a bit of her legs. She glanced toward the kitchen and found T.S. watching her. No, not her—her legs.

Heat suffused her face. She ignored the increase in her pulse rate, the heaviness in her breasts, the throbbing between her legs. “I mean it, Candy. You stay with your man and celebrate today.”

“If you’re sure.”

“Positively. I’ll call you tomorrow. I know you’re taking some time off work but maybe we can get together for lunch or coffee or something.”