Rush

mind and come to peace over
     her decision.
    She rubbed over the length of her arm through the leather jacket, and bit her lip
     pensively as the car wove through late morning traffic.
    There was still a drizzle in the air. No snowflakes or flurries. Not even sleet. But
     it was cold, gray and overcast, and the skies looked ready to burst at any moment.
    When the driver pulled in front of the building, Mia ducked out and hurried toward
     the door so she didn’t get soaked again. She rode up the elevator, her anxiety heightening
     with every floor as she crept upward.
    Eleanor looked surprised when Mia walked through the reception area.
    “Mia, Mr. Hamilton said you were sick this morning. Are you feeling better?”
    Mia smiled wanly. “A bit, yes. Is Gabe in his office?”
    Eleanor nodded.
    “See that we aren’t disturbed until he tells you otherwise,” Mia said in a quiet voice.
     “We have an important matter to discuss this morning.”
    “Of course,” Eleanor replied. “Let me know if you want lunch delivered. I’ll see to
     it.”
    Mia ignored the last and headed in the direction of Gabe’s office, her dread intensifying
     with every step. It sickened her to have to tell him of the pictures she saw. Of what
     Charles had threatened. She didn’t want to have to rehash what had happened in Paris
     all over again. She and Gabe had moved beyond that.
    When she opened Gabe’s door, he glanced up, his brows drawn.When he saw that it was her, he immediately rose from his desk, a frown curving his
     lips downward.
    “Mia? What the hell are you doing here? Are you all right? You should be at home in
     bed.”
    He put his hands to her shoulders and pulled her into his chest, looking down at her
     face as if examining her for any signs of illness.
    “There’s something I need to talk to you about, Gabe,” she said hesitantly. “It’s
     about yesterday…And what really happened.”
    Gabe pulled away from Mia so that he could see the entirety of her face and expression,
     and his pulse accelerated as he took in the fear and dread in her eyes. She looked…terrible.
     And she never looked bad. But this morning she looked as though she hadn’t slept at
     all the night before. She looked tired and fragile.
    He remembered thinking she looked as though she’d been crying yesterday. And now she
     was here suggesting that she hadn’t told him about something—something big—that had
     happened yesterday.
    “Come sit down,” he said, his throat tight.
    As he attempted to gently guide her toward the sofa across the room, she shook her
     head and pulled her hand from his grasp.
    “I can’t sit, Gabe. I’m too worked up. I just need to tell you this and pray that
     you aren’t pissed—at me.”
    Now he was really starting to worry. For the life of him, he couldn’t put all the
     pieces together. Everything had been so normal yesterday. Until lunch. When she’d
     gone out to get them both something to eat. When she’d gotten back, she’d been soaked
     to the bone, and it was almost as if she’d been in shock.
    His brow furrowed further as she stared back at him, vulnerability shining like a
     beacon in her eyes. She was afraid. It sickened him that she was evidently afraid
     of him, or at least his reaction to what she would tell him.
    In an effort to alleviate her tangible fear and unease, he slid his hands up the sleeves
     of her jacket and squeezed softly. She flinched and moved one arm away from his grasp,
     her hand immediately going to cover the spot where he’d grasped.
    What the hell was going on here?
    “Take off the jacket, Mia,” he said in a firm voice.
    She hesitated, her breath blowing through her lips. Tears rose in her eyes, stunning
     him.
    No longer willing to wait a moment longer, he stripped the jacket down from her shoulders
     and held her arm out so he could slide the sleeves down from her arm. She wouldn’t
     meet his gaze the entire time. As soon as the jacket was off, he saw her upper arm,
     the one she’d flinched over when he’d touched her.
    His breath exploded in one huge burst when he saw the purpling bruises that painted
     the upper portion of her arm. His fingers went to touch the area, but he held back,
     not wanting to hurt her.
    He reached for her other hand and dragged her toward the window where the light was
     better and he could see the marks.
    “What the fuck happened here, Mia?” he demanded.
    He ran light fingertips over the bruised flesh, and his