Rhys by Adrienne Bell Page A

held tight.
    “Tessa.” He said her name softly, over and over, until her fight began to fade away. She looked up at him and Rhys watched as a lucid light slowly came back into her eyes.
    “Rhys?” She blinked a few times as she came back to herself.
    “It’s okay,” he said. “I’ve got you.”
    Tears formed in her eyes, shining brightly in the dim glow of the room. She looked away and they rolled down her cheek.
    “I’m sorry,” she said. “I thought I was back in…”
    Her voice drifted off, and a silence fell between them.
    He wouldn’t lie to her, wouldn’t tell her it was just a dream. Rhys knew better than that. He knew all too well what she was experiencing, her mind vividly replaying the trauma, trying to make sense of it.
    He lifted one hand to brush back her hair, half afraid that she would pull away from the soothing gesture, but she stayed with him.
    “You can tell me,” he said.
    She lifted her gaze. There was a vulnerability showing in her face that pulled at the dead center of his chest.
    “You’re not going to run off again are you?” she asked. There was a note of humor in her voice, but Rhys saw it for what it was—a defense mechanism.
    “No,” he promised. “I’m not going anywhere.”
    He never should have left her side when she’d reached out to him earlier, but he’d been surprised by his reaction to her show of compassion. No one had ever tried to soothe his conscience before.
    They’d only reminded him that he didn’t have one.
    She met his gaze for a long moment before nodding her acceptance of his words. Rhys settled on the bed with his legs out in front of him and nestled her close, and waited for her to talk.
    “I was back at Boyd’s house,” she said. “It seemed so real. It’s like my mind won’t let go.”
    “It will,” Rhys said. “But it will take time.”
    “Dylan was right in front of me, screaming at me again.”
    Rhys cupped his hands over her shoulders. “Dylan is never going to touch you again.”
    She was quiet for a moment. After a few breaths, he felt her muscles begin to relax a little.
    “Did you know Dylan and I were actually friends once?” She paused again. “Well, at least I thought we were. We even went on a date.”
    Rhys stiffened. The idea of Dylan getting close to Tessa only to turn around and torture her reignited his rage.
    “It was just a dinner, and it was pretty obvious that we weren’t a great match,” she went on. “But now I’m pretty sure he only asked me because Anders told him to keep an eye on me.”
    “Then he’s a fool,” Rhys said honestly.
    There was no doubt that Tessa was beautiful with her expressive eyes and bow-shaped lips, but there was much more to her than that. He might have only known her for a day and already he could see just how special she was.
    There was fight in her, sure, but that alone was nothing remarkable. The survival instinct in most people was pretty strong. When faced with pain and violence, Rhys had watched people fight and people run. Both reactions were effective, and there was no innate honor in either.
    But Rhys rarely saw their humanity continue to shine so brightly underneath after the damage had been done. Tessa might have been hurt, but she would heal. Dylan Murtry hadn’t managed to break her spirit. As far as Rhys could tell, he hadn’t even been able to touch it.
    And that was special.
    Her eyes were still wet when she looked up at him again. “Sometimes I wonder if I’m ever going to trust anyone ever again.”
    “You will,” he said, running his hands over her shoulders. He could feel the tension slowly melting out of her muscles. She leaned deep against his chest. “It will just take time.”
    “How much time?”
    “There’s no way of knowing.”
    “Well, that’s a sucky answer.” She laughed a little but it mixed with her tears, making her cough.
    Rhys couldn’t resist the smile that pulled at the corner of his lips. “Sorry, but it’s true.”
    “Do