Just One Touch
Slow Burn #5
May 9, 2017
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Raised in a strict religious cult since she was a young girl, Jenna has no connection to the outside world beyond vague flashes of memory that seem to be from another life. Memories she clings to when the cult leaders discover her extraordinary ability to heal-and punish her. Years held captive and forced to do the cult's bidding have turned Jenna into a meek, timid woman…or so they think. In truth, she is merely biding her time, waiting for the perfect moment to escape.
When a terrified young woman tries to steal the SUV of Devereaux Security's toughest recruit, Isaac's anger quickly turns into a strange sort of protectiveness for the beautiful, bruised stranger. But when they are caught in a firestorm of bullets and Isaac is hit, he's sure the end is near, until Jenna touches him and closes his wounds. As he tries to bring Jenna to safety, she refuses to tell him what danger haunts her or how she healed him, but Isaac vows to do whatever it takes to gain her trust…and her heart. Because with just one touch, Isaac knows he wants Jenna to be his--forever.
Isaac lay quietly in the dark, staring up at the ceiling, his thoughts consumed by the blue-eyed angel in the next room.
Would she be able to sleep? And if she was, did nightmares plague her dreams?
What was it about her that called to a part of his heart and soul that had never been breached before? He could come up with plenty of reasonable explanations, like the fact that she’d saved his life. Or that he’d made it his life’s work to protect the innocent. Or the fact that she was lost in a world of which she had little understanding or knowledge. Or the fact that she needed him.
But the simple truth was that he needed her every bit as much as she needed him, and he couldn’t come up with a reason that made any sense to him.
He’d come across plenty of victimized women who’d desperately needed help, his protection, DSS’s protection, but never had he been even remotely possessive of them. He’d done his job, and it never failed to enrage him and rile his protective instincts.
It was who and what he was; he’d never be a man to stand idly by while a woman was in danger or being abused.
But his angel wasn’t just any victim. She wasn’t just any woman in trouble and in need of protecting. And he had no idea what to do with that realization. He couldn’t even call it a realization, as if he’d just been struck by an epiphany as he lay there with no hope of sleeping. He’d known it from the moment she’d touched him, laid her hands on him, and he’d felt her in the very depths of his soul.
It wasn’t sexual—wholly—because he’d be a damn liar if he didn’t want her with every breath in his body. It was spiritual, and he felt like some hokey fool mooning over things like destiny and fate, but how could he call it anything else when from the moment she’d touched him he’d felt a connection that transcended any physical want or need?
And he was consumed with guilt for having sexual thoughts, lustful, needful thoughts, about a woman child whom he didn’t even know whether she was of an age for him to be having such thoughts about her. She had the innocence of a girl with the body of a desirable woman. Hell, it was obvious that no matter how many years she’d lived in this world, she’d spent the majority of them sheltered, sequestered from the real world. She was either enraptured with or terrified of things that he and others took for granted.
She’d been conditioned.
He frowned. It appeared that at a very early age she’d been indoctrinated. Brainwashed. Taught an alternate reality that was twisted to fit the agenda of the people who’d kept her under lock and key, and they’d proven they would go to extreme measures to retrieve her. She was a valuable asset to them. Irreplaceable.
He wondered when her powers had manifested themselves and as he pondered that question, he wondered if it was what had saved her from a far worse fate. Even the dumbest fucks would realize the enormity of what they possessed in Jenna.
He rolled over to retrieve his cell and punched in Eliza’s number, knowing it was late and that Sterling likely wouldn’t be pleased, but Eliza of all people would understand his suspicions. He needed to bounce some ideas off her.
“This better be damn good,” Eliza growled into the phone.
“Because I was about to be the recipient of the mother of all orgasms, and Wade is just pissed enough to throw my phone in the pool and withhold sex for a week.”
Isaac burst out laughing when he heard Sterling in the background.
“Jesus fuck, woman, can we keep our sex life and your goddamn job separate?”
Maya Banks is a multiple #1 New York Times and USA Today bestselling author whose chart toppers have included erotic romance, romantic suspense, contemporary romance, Scottish historical romances. She is the author of the Breathless Trilogy, the Surrender Trilogy, the KGI novels, the Sweet series, and the Colters Legacy novels. She lives in Southeast Texas.
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