Don’t let it go to your head.
He closed his eyes, tried to rein in the driving urge to go to her. It had to be said, Pete Boulder knew how to capture all the emotion in a moment. And that image was all emotion. And it pulled an ocean of emotion out of Rocco in response.
No wonder the photographer wanted to take tit-pics of her. One look at her bared like this and any man would be creaming over his computer screen or magazine or where ever the fuck Pete’s pictures were published.
This was the picture Pete’d shown Dani at the party, Rocco was sure of it. This was why she’d left the event early, she’d known the photographer had seen her secret.
Fury whistled through him like a category five tornado. The urge to race to Pete’s studio and smash up his cameras gripped him—what a prize fucker for sending him this. Taunting like the sleazy shit he was. How the hell was Rocco going to contain these? He didn’t care how much he was going to have to pay or what he was going to have to promise, but he was protecting her from these circulating. He’d sort it out with Pete as soon as he’d calmed down. Because no one else was seeing these pictures.
No other man was seeing her like this and getting off on it. She was looking at him. Wanted him. This was for him only. And he wanted her so bad he could scream.
But he couldn’t do it. It wasn’t right for him to take advantage of her loneliness. She’d latched onto him only because she’d seen commonalities between them.
It was only a crush.
But he gazed at that picture a long, long time. He wanted her to look at him like that again. Like for always.
Only Rocco knew too well, nothing was for always.
Danielle lay curled in a ball, stalling for time before opening her eyes. She already knew he’d left her. There was a cold, emptiness beside her.
Inside her.
She shouldn’t be surprised. Or disappointed. But she was both. Her one night was over. Time to grab her bag and go.
She made herself get off the bed and go into the bathroom. She’d freshen-up and ship out. Ten minutes later she was back in the bedroom, hunting for her boots.
“Dani?”
She turned. He stood in the doorway.
She shut her eyes for a second but his image was burned on her brain. Had he no mercy? Why had he taken off his shirt—to deliberately torture her?
Sucking up some courage, she opened her eyes and made herself smile.
But he didn’t smile back. He gazed at her with those intense eyes.
“Have you got a headache?” She’d play this light and easy. And get out of there as soon as possible.
“Two whiskies don’t make me drunk.” He grimaced. “No headache.”
She folded her arms across her chest, pressing them in close as if she could contain the emotion simmering within her. “You left me.”
“I had to.” He leaned against the doorjamb. “I’m too old for you.”
She rolled her eyes. “Even though you insist on acting over-protective and over-anxious, you’re not actually old enough to be my father.”
He grunted, a half-laugh. “Danielle.”
She waited.
He said nothing. Just stared at her like he was imprinting the image of her on his brain. She stared back. Couldn’t find the strength to turn away, not now it was almost over.
“We have to get out of here.” His lips barely moved.
“Why?” She barely breathed.
“Because if we stay, it’s inevitable.” His gaze fell to the floor. “I could never look Logan in the eye again.”
Inevitable?
Excitement, need, hummed in her veins. Warmth chased the chill that had been slowly invading her body since she’d woken. She wanted it to be inevitable. She wanted him.
“Logan has slept with most of the women in this city,” she said. “I don’t think he’d be that bothered.”
“He’d be bothered.” Rocco said. “I promised him I’d look after you.”
Or was it Rocco himself, who’d be bothered? Dani inched a step closer. “I know you don’t want to hurt me,” she said. “But it’s inevitable either way, right? You say no to me now, it hurts a little. We get it on, it hurts a little when we walk away. Hurt is hurt. It’s going happen. But so what, that’s life, right?”
There was no avoiding it for her where Rocco was concerned. Because he would walk away. The guy was all work and only occasional play. She’d never known him to have a long-term girlfriend, she figured he didn’t want a serious relationship yet. Maybe not ever.
But she could live with short-term. It would be better than no time with him at all.
“You’re really that brave?” he asked.
“I guess I have to be,” she said with a small shrug. “But just so you know, I’m not some pure thing never to be tainted by the touch of a man’s hand,” she teased, but she meant it. “I’m human. Flesh and blood. A woman with needs. A woman who feels hurt along with happiness.” A woman who wanted. And it was perfectly okay to want. She wasn’t going to apologize for it.
“And there’s one thing you haven’t considered...” She cocked her head, readying to fire her last shot.
“What’s that?” he asked.
She leaned closer to whisper. “No one ever needs to know.”
Color washed into his face, but his jaw tightened. His eyebrows pulled together. He looked so solemn.
“I’ve never kept a secret from either of your brothers. They’re the only family I have. It’s not just a line I’m spinning. I owe them everything.” He drew a breath. “And I know I shouldn’t do this.”
Dani looked right into his eyes. She heard that honesty. She knew he was speaking from the heart.
I shouldn’t do this.
She drew in a breath as she stepped back, trying to steady herself from the blow. He really didn’t want to.
“Then I’ll go,” she whispered. “I’m sorry.” She licked lips that had dried from disappointment. “I shouldn’t have tried to tempt you.”
“You didn’t have to try. You just have to be.”
She turned away from him quickly. Time to move. She shoved her feet into her boots. No socks. Her toes would freeze. Too bad.
Maybe he did want her the way a guy wants a woman. Finally he saw her as an adult. But he didn’t want her enough.
Because surely it wasn’t that he was afraid of her brothers—not really. He just didn’t want her enough to have to bother with any kind of ribbing. And that was okay. She could stay mature about it. Take that rejection and walk with her head high. He’d never have to see her silly tears.
Because she’d been honest before. It was going to hurt no matter what.
It fucking hurt. It hurt so much she no longer cared about anything but the need to get away.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
“Getting my bag.” She bent and grabbed it. “I’ll go do what they want. Go back to school and do law.”
“But that’s not what you want.”
“Right now what I want doesn’t matter.”
No one was interested in what she wanted. And this second, she was done with trying. She hurt too much. She’d go back to varsity and hide with her head in the books a while longer. Break out again later when she’d recovered from this humiliation.
“You’re running away.” He frowned.
“No. I’m doing what’s necessary.” She was a fool trying to think she could work it any other way.
“You’re running away from what you want.”
Oh that so wasn’t fair. She pushed past him.
“Stop.” He got to the door ahead of her again. Blocking it with his all-but-bare body.
“What are you doing?” She was so mad with him. Mad with him for being so bloody beautiful. For being so right.
“I hadn’t finished.”
“I’d heard enough.” She didn’t need him to lecture her on what she should or shouldn’t do. She didn’t want his ‘support’.
“Running
away isn’t going to work.”
“It works for me.”
“No, it doesn’t. You can do better than this,” he said. “Sometime you’re going to have to stop and make a stand. Fight for what you want.”
She threw her bag to the floor, her fingers curling into fists. “I have been fighting for what I want,” she shouted into his face. “I’ve been fighting for you. And I’ve lost.”
Stupid tears pricked her eyes. Damn it, she didn’t need this. Didn’t need him making everything five hundred times worse.
“Dani.”
He actually dared to try and reach out. Was he going to hug her? She pushed at him, trying to knock his arms down. She so didn’t want him patronising her like that. But he grabbed her upper arms in a tight hold, clamping them to her sides.
“Let me go,” she snapped.
“Look at me.” His voice was strained.
“Let me go.”
“No,” he shouted back. “Not ‘til you look at me.”