Sheltered By The Coldhearted Billionaire Boss

The black SUV sped down the pitch-black interstate. The rhythmic hum of the tires against the wet asphalt filled the silent cabin. Two hours passed. Javier's right leg began to burn with a dull, heavy numbness from the weight of Ella's head. He shifted his knee a fraction of an inch to relieve the pressure in his muscle. The tiny movement disturbed Ella. Her eyebrows pulled together in a tight V, and a whimper slipped past her lips. Her hands shot out in her sleep. Her fingers clamped down hard on the fabric of Javier's pants, her knuckles turning white. A fresh tear leaked from the corner of her closed eye. It rolled down her cheek and soaked into his pants, leaving a dark, wet stain. Javier stared down at the expanding wet spot. A heavy, uncomfortable tightness formed in the center of his chest. He slowly lifted his right hand. His leather-clad fingers hovered an inch above her damp hair. His jaw clenched. He did not remove his glove. Instead, he extended his hand, the stiff black leather of his index finger pressing almost roughly against her cold skin as he swiped the tear away. He immediately retracted his hand, his muscles coiling tight as if he had just touched a live wire. The heat from his skin seemed to ground her. Her rapid breathing slowed, and the tight crease between her eyebrows smoothed out. Javier flexed his fingers inside the leather glove and returned his arm to the armrest. At three in the morning, the streetlights of the D.C. suburbs began to flash through the windows, casting moving shadows across the seats. Cale pulled the SUV to a stop outside an unmarked, secure transit garage. He put the car in park. He turned his head slightly. "Sir, should I wake her for the transfer?" Javier looked at the exhausted girl. "Get out," he ordered coldly. Cale nodded, opened his door, and stepped out into the damp night. Javier pushed his door open and stepped out. He walked around the front of the vehicle and opened the driver's side door. As he settled into the driver's seat, Ella, still asleep, slid sideways on the back seat—the angle of the parking garage ramp tilting her loose, limp body toward the floorboard. Javier reached back instantly. His large hand gripped her shoulder, stopping her from hitting the floorboard. He didn't wake her. Leaving his seatbelt unfastened, he leaned over the console, and pulled her limp body over the seats, settling her into the passenger side. He leaned across her, pulling the seatbelt over her chest. The metal tongue clicked into the buckle right next to her hip. Javier started the engine. He put the car in drive and headed toward the center of the city. The first harsh beam of morning sunlight pierced the windshield, hitting Ella directly in the eyes. She blinked rapidly. Her eyes opened, staring blankly at the massive glass skyscrapers towering above them. She realized she was sitting in the front seat. She whipped her head to the left and saw Javier's hands on the steering wheel. Panic seized her throat. She shot up straight, pressing her back hard into the seat. "I-I'm sorry. I didn't mean to—" Javier didn't take his eyes off the road. "Regulate your breathing," he ordered. His voice was flat and steady. The absolute calm in his tone acted like a physical weight on her chest. She forced herself to take a deep breath, her racing heart slowly decelerating. She swallowed hard. "Where are we?" she whispered. Javier turned the steering wheel with one hand. The SUV descended into the private, brightly lit underground parking garage of a high-rise building. He pressed the brake, bringing the car to a halt. He turned his head and looked directly into her eyes. "This is your home now."