FINDING HOPE (A Savage Cinderella Novella #1)

Chapter One

A cold wet nose nuzzled my neck. I squirmed at the intrusion and then huffed out a resigned breath. It would be pointless to pull away, so I slung my arm across Eliot's warm body, his fur soft against my cheek.

"Hey, boy. You ready to go out?" His head popped up in anticipation.

I'd slept miserably, haunting dreams reminding me that the past would never be far enough behind me to escape it completely. I tugged the covers up around my shoulders and inhaled deeply to calm my racing heart. Eliot must have sensed my lingering anxiety. As if he knew I needed comfort more than I needed to jump out of bed and into the chilly air, he gave a warm sigh and curled into my side.

The sound of the shower dying off drew my thoughts to Justin. I peered at the clock. Six-thirty a.m. and the warmth of the sun was already cascading across the quilted comforter. Temps in Atlanta had been mid-June hot, and Justin had the air conditioner cranked down to sixty-eight degrees, attempting to beat the day's anticipated heat. I rolled over when he stuck his head in the room.

"Hey, sunshine."

I yawned and stretched, upsetting Eliot from his place. "Are you off to work already?" Eliot perked up but I patted his side, not quite ready to let him move far away.

Justin smiled from the bathroom doorway, clad in only a towel, his dark hair dripping water onto his shoulders and running down his bare chest. The sight of him—tall, lean, and muscular from cycling, hiking, and being a twenty-four-year-old male—made my heart race again. This time, not from fear. My face heated and a rush of mixed emotions coursed through me. He slicked back his hair with a brush and pulled both sides into a little V, like a duck's tail, the natural waves already springing to life.

"I'm on deadline this week. Charlene needs those photos for our piece on the power plant that's spewing toxic crap into the air up in Raleigh."

A smile curved my lips. I loved his passion for the environment, his willingness to take risks to serve justice, and his desire to change the world for the better. This story could propel him from nature photographer to full-fledged investigative reporter. Not that my story hadn't put his name on the fast track, but that was a year ago and people seemed to forget a story—and its teller—quickly.

"What are you smiling at?" he asked, the sharpness in his tone dropping away and his scowl softening.

"I admire your commitment to your work. It's nice to see you pursuing your dreams." Despite my happiness for him, a pang of sadness mixed with longing settled into my chest.

Justin laid down the brush and came toward me. He could read me like a neon sign. His approach always sent my heart into overdrive, and I was especially aware when he was unclothed. I gripped the edge of the covers and he slowed his steps, his features growing solemn. Then he lowered down beside me. His eyes found mine as his hand wrapped around my icy fingers. The contact eased my nerves and I relaxed under his touch.

"You'll figure out what you want to do. Give yourself a break. You've been through a lot." His warm brown eyes held a sincere empathy. I knew he was only trying to be kind, but the sadness behind the look dug at the place inside me that still festered with shame.

I couldn't meet his gaze.

A stubborn resolve sank into my bones. It had been a year and a month since I'd returned from living in the mountains of the North Georgia High Country. Yet, sometimes it felt as if it had only been yesterday. Horrific memories invaded my sleep and often seeped into my thoughts at the most inconvenient times and when I least expected them. Therapy had only brought them closer to the surface. A rush of anger flashed through me, intense and biting.