Page 57 of Her Hidden Smile

I sat up in the chair. “Huh.”

“Like I said, you haven’t been around people and relationships enough when you’ve been globetrotting to know what is right in front of your face.” Jase chuckled.

“You don’t have to sound like a know-it-all.”

“Sure, I do, cause I do know it all.”

This time it was my turn to laugh. “You’re an asshole.”

“Ah, but you love me.”

“Sometimes,” and with that I hung up.

When I went back to bed I slept like a baby.

I jerked awake and was out of bed before I knew what was happening. The screams were horrifying.

Millie. It was Millie.

I raced to her room.

She was tangled in her sheets, and she let out another long wail of pure anguish.

When I got to her, her face was a mask of pain.

I was afraid to touch her, I didn’t want to make things worse.

“Millie. Cariña. Wake up.”

Another scream of anguish, and I couldn’t help myself. I pulled her into my arms. “Millie, please. You’re safe, baby. You’re safe. I’ve got you.”

She squirmed and flailed. Her shrieks and wails were now down to sobs, which were somehow worse.

“Baby, wake up. I’m begging you.”

“Where are they? You’ve got to get them. Please get them.”

Her nails sank into my chest and her eyes opened.

“Save them. Please save my mom and dad,” she sobbed. “You’ve got to save them.”

Her sobs turned to whimpers, and I wanted to reach into the past and save her parents.

Save Millie.

“Please, Renzo. Save them,” she begged. “Please.”

She stopped fighting and her body went limp, but her eyes stayed locked with mine. Tears streaked down her face. The duvet comforter and compresses were long gone, and her sleep shirt was rucked up almost to her breasts. Her lacy white panties glowed underneath the moonlight.

Her whimper changed. I could tell she was no longer back in time. Now she was here with me, and she began to push me away while reaching for her lavender sheet.

“Stop,” I whispered.

“Please don’t look,” she pleaded.

I trailed my fingers from the top of her knee on her injured leg, up her scarred thigh, and rested them on top of her white panties. “This is what I was staring at, baby. Under the moonlight the white of your panties almost glows in the dark. How could any man look at anything else when he’s holding you in his arms?”

She tore her gaze from mine and looked down at where my fingers rested. Her expression changed. There was disbelief, and I stroked my fingers over her panty-covered hip bone. Again, then again. She looked back up at me. She must have read what I was thinking because her look changed to one of wonder.