Rush

at his shoulders and tried to pull away, but he held her fiercely, afraid
     to let any space between them. He had to touch her, had to feel her in his arms. He
     was afraid if he let her go, he’d never get her back.
    “I want a shower,” she choked out. “Please, I need it. I just want to be clean. He…
touched
me.”
    Desolation swept through Gabe like a winter storm, cold and stark. Of course she felt
     violated. Not only by Charles, but also by him. He’d given her the ultimate betrayal
     in allowing this to happen. He’d not only allowed it, he’d encouraged it. How the
     hell could he ever get past something like this? How could she?
    “Let me go start it,” he said, wiping her hair from her face.
    Her cheeks were damp with tears, and her eyes were wounded as she stared back at him.
     Blood still oozed from the corner of hermouth. Then she looked away, unable to meet his gaze, and his stomach dropped.
    “Stay right here, baby. I’ll go start it and then you can take your shower.”
    He backed away from the bed, his instincts screaming not to let her go even for the
     moment it took to start the water running. His chest felt empty and panic clawed at
     his throat. Never had he experienced such emotional devastation. It unhinged him.
     Made him crazy.
    Not when Lisa had walked out on their marriage. Not when she’d smeared him in the
     media and spouted her lies. Nothing had even come close to this and the fear that
     had him in its vicious hold.
    He hurried to the bathroom and turned on the shower, testing the water until it was
     the right temperature. He pulled out a bathrobe and a towel, his haste making him
     clumsy. He cursed when the towel fell off the counter, and he bent to pick it up,
     folding it back up and making sure it was within reach of the shower.
    He went back into the bedroom to find Mia sitting on the edge of the bed, her legs
     drawn protectively to her chest. She hugged her knees to her chin, her face down,
     her hair spilling down her legs. She looked so damn vulnerable that Gabe wanted to
     die on the spot.
    He’d done this to her. Not Charles. Not some other man.
He
had done it. There was no getting around that fact.
    He touched her shoulder, allowing his fingers to twine in her silky hair. “Mia, baby,
     the shower is ready.” He hesitated before he said the rest, worried that she’d reject
     him, knowing he deserved it if she did. “Do you want me to help you?”
    She turned her face up to him, her eyes still haunted. But she didn’t say no. She
     didn’t say anything at all. She just nodded.
    Relief surged through him, leaving him weak and shaken. Hehad to wait a moment to collect his strength. She hadn’t rejected him—yet.
    He gathered her in his arms, lifting her protectively, holding her as closely as he
     could as he carried her into the bathroom. He set her down in front of the shower,
     taking just enough time to strip out of his own clothing before he opened the door
     and went in before her. He reached back, taking her hand, guiding her into the shower
     with him.
    For a long moment, he simply held her, both standing under the hot spray. Then he
     began to wash her, lavishing every inch of her body with the scented soap. He left
     no part of her untouched, gently rinsing away any reminder that another’s hands had
     been on her.
    He soaped her hair, gently massaging the shampoo into her scalp, and then he rinsed
     each strand. Then he pulled her into the protective embrace of his arms, holding her
     as they stood, silent under the steady stream of soothing water.
    Finally he reached up to turn off the spray and opened the shower door, reaching for
     the towel so she didn’t get cold. He wrapped the towel around her body, keeping her
     close as he dried her skin and her hair. He didn’t bother with himself, using the
     chill to punish himself. She was what was important. Not him. He just hoped he hadn’t
     realized it too late.
    When she was completely dry, he wrapped the towel around her head and then helped
     her into the thick, plush robe. He tied the ends securely around her waist, covering
     her body so she didn’t feel vulnerable. So she felt safe. Even from him.
    He grabbed one of the other towels as he ushered her back into the bedroom, and only
     after he had her tucked into bed did he then dry himself and pull on his boxers. He
     reached for the phone and tersely ordered hot chocolate. Then he sat on the edge of
     the bed and urged her