Redemption (Cavan Gang #2) by Laylah Roberts Page A

rolled around in her head as she climbed out of the bath. A dizzy spell hit her and she clasped hold of the bathroom counter until it passed. Grabbing the sleeveless tank top, she wore as a nightie, Miller pulled it over her head. She longed to brush her teeth and hair, but she didn’t think she could manage much more without falling over.
    She touched her lips. They still tingled from his kiss. He’d kissed her. What did that mean? Did he want her? Or had it been nothing more than a kiss?
    Was Natalya right? Did he want her?
    Well if he had she’d probably just ruined it by going all crazy on him.
    “I’m decent,” she called out.
    Rogan was there in a second, wrapping his arm around her waist. “You look like death warmed over.”
    “Stop,” she said weakly. “Your flattery is going to my head.”
    “I knew a bath was a bad idea,” he muttered as he gently swung her up into his arms and carried her back into the bedroom. He set her on the bed then tucked her in.
    “I had to. I needed to wash off his touch.”
    He moved back and she grabbed his hand.
    “Miller?”
    “Don’t go. Don’t leave me.” God, she sounded so desperate. But she couldn’t help it. She couldn’t be alone right now.
    “Baby, nothing would make me leave you right now. I promise I’m not going anywhere.”
    And Rogan never broke his promises.
    “I’m sorry, about before. I know that you wouldn’t hurt me, but I just—”
    “Shh.” He placed a finger over her lips. “I don’t want to hear you apologize again, understand? If anyone should apologize, it’s me. It hasn’t even been twenty-four hours since you were attacked, Miller. I should never have tried to kiss you.”
    “It wasn’t the kiss. I enjoyed the kiss. It was just, when you were kind of looming over me, I felt, well…”
    “Suffocated?” he guessed. “It’s all right, Miller. I understand.”
    She relaxed back against the bed. “I’m fine you know. Really.”
    “Not yet. But you will be. Go to sleep, a thaisce . I’ll be right here. All night.”
     
    ***
     
    “Rogan? Couldn’t you sleep?”
    Rogan turned to see Miller walking towards him, dressed just in a long T-shirt. He glanced at his watch. It was one in the morning. He took a last sip of his whiskey. He’d been sitting here in his study, nursing a whiskey, hoping it would help quiet his mind so he could sleep. It felt like he hadn’t slept properly since Miller had been attacked a week ago.
    “I can go. Leave you in peace,” she offered when he didn’t answer.
    “Wait,” he called out.
    She paused at the door, turning, a mixture of wariness and hope on her face.
    “Come and sit down. Couldn’t you sleep?” he asked her.
    She shook her head and took the seat opposite him. “No. Thought I’d go get some milk.”
    They stared at each other for a long moment. He could tell she wanted to ask him something.
    “How are you feeling? Any more headaches?” he asked.
    She’d had a few of them since Dima had knocked her in the head. His hand tightened around the glass he held as fury filled him. It was going to take him a long time to get over her attack.
    Miller let out a deep breath, glaring at him. “I’m tired.”
    He stood. “I’ll get you some milk.” She had bags under her eyes. She needed some sleep. Maybe he should take her to the doctor, get some sedatives.
    “No, I’m not physically tired.” She stood in his way, staring up at him. “I’m tired of being treated like glass. I’m not going to break, Rogan.”
    “I know.”
    “Do you? Because every time I’ve seen you in the last week, which hasn’t been that often, all you’ve done is ask me if I feel all right. And if I need something. Well, I do need something.”
    “What?”
    “You.”
    He gaped down at her like an idiot. She hadn’t just said that, had she?
    “If you’ve been avoiding me for the last week because you hated that kiss and you don’t know how to tell me that you don’t want me then just walk