Free Anything He Wants: The Betrayal (#5) by Sara Fawkes

continuing threat somewhere out there. Anya’s last words before the sniper started firing, mentioning a man she never named, was a dark cloud looming on the horizon. I could feel it casting a shadow over me, but worried more for Jeremiah. He didn’t seem to be as intent on finding the mysterious figure as he was keeping me tied to this bed. I remembered my earlier conversation with Ethan at the hospital, where the former bodyguard talked about the CEO consistently shrugging off all kinds of danger. Jeremiah had already rejected his mother as a suspect, despite the new information and the fact that she fled without a word. His nonchalance toward the potential menace bothered me, and I couldn’t tell whether it was confidence or if he was doing it for my benefit—I hoped it was the latter.
    “We’ll get it sorted out,” he replied, kissing my forehead. “I’ll keep you safe, I promise.”
    For a familiar argument, a familiar answer. His patience was frustrating, especially since I wanted answers now. It’s only been a few days, I admonished myself. You can’t expect immediate results on a case with no leads. Still, I hated being on the sidelines, unable to help in any meaningful way.
    I pushed insistently at one shoulder, and Jeremiah rolled sideways onto his back, pulling me along with him so I was lying atop his body, straddling his waist. Tired as I was, I still raised myself from him, staring down at his beautiful face. He watched me, too, the fire in him slaked for now, his face as open as I’d ever seen. His hands smoothed up and over my breasts, then down to rest on my hips as he waited on me.
    Everything in me sang at the sight below me. A girl could live forever and not get tired of this. I traced the lines of his muscles, then leaned down so my breasts pressed against his chest. Skimming his lips with mine in a feather-light kiss, I gave him a half smile as I whispered, “I love you.”
    “No.”
    My world stopped. For an instant I thought I was falling, but nothing had changed. I sat up straight, confusion racing through me as I stared down at the suddenly stony expression of the man beneath me. My mouth worked, trying to think of something to say, but it was as though my brain had shut down. Jeremiah’s hands circled my waist and, as if I weighed nothing, he lifted me off and to the side, then sat up, swinging his feet off the bed. I blinked, the meaning of what had just happened beginning to sink in, and watched as he stood and picked up his clothing.
    I looked back down at the bed, trying desperately to keep my breathing steady. Stupid, so very, very stupid. My fists balled up around the pillowcase as I held in my emotion, trying for the stoicism I’d always seen in his face. “Why?” I asked, unable to think of any other question to ask. There was a small break in my voice at the end of the word, but I forced my eyes up, thankful that I hadn’t yet shed a tear.
    He ignored me for several seconds, quickly buttoning his shirt, then pulling on his pants without looking at me. Finally he turned back to face me, his face as closed off and emotionless as I’d ever seen. The drastic change from only a minute ago was like a death knell in my heart.
    He must have seen the distress on my face because he sat down on the bed beside me. “I don’t think…” he started, then paused a moment in thought. “I’d prefer it if we kept any mention of love out of our relationship for the foreseeable future.”
    “Why?” I repeated, more forcefully this time. I was slowly breaking apart inside, and keeping myself together was becoming more difficult by the moment, but I needed an answer.
    Jeremiah studied me, a clinical examination that was void of any of the tenderness I’d experienced at his hands since our meeting. “Let’s think about this logically,” he finally said. “You’ve known me for roughly two weeks now. Is that enough time to build any type of emotional attachment?”
    He was being