“And it worked?”
Her tongue peeped out and she washed it over her bottom lip. Though I’d spent hours studying her from my office, watching that nervous gesture of hers a hundred times in less than the week we’d known one another and I’d wanted to taste her ever since that first day I’d noticed her… for the first time, I didn’t.
My feelings for her hadn’t gone anywhere with her revelation.
She wasn’t telling me anything I hadn’t already known, save for this shit about her being at fault. Nothing, nothing could ever stain her in my eyes.
Unable to help myself, I reached out and blanketed her hands with one of my own. Mine were so big and hers so small that I covered them easily, swamping her with my size.
I wondered why that didn’t put her off. I was a big guy. There was no escaping that fact. And yet, she hadn’t flinched away from me, not since Giorgio’s.
“I-It worked,” she confirmed. “He had fancy lawyers who slated my reputation. Using things from my social media accounts to make it seem like I-I was ‘loose’.” A harsh laugh escaped her. “That was the actual word they used. ‘Loose.’”
“I’m so sorry,” I whispered, uncertain of what to say, and what to do that wouldn’t frighten her.
I’d been angry in my life. Several times. When my father had died, leaving my mom to raise three kids alone. When my brother had almost been killed in Iraq…
When most people felt sadness, for some reason, I was hardwired to feel anger. Rage. It burned through me with the destruction of a wildfire, and now was no different.
It was a sentiment th
at could only be stirred by those who were very important to me. And had I not already come to terms with the fact that Jessica, even though I barely knew her, was exactly that—special.
I shuddered, fighting my body’s natural desire to release the tension building inside me.
I wanted to pace. Fuck, screw that. I wanted to fight.
I wanted to tear into the bastard who’d hurt Jessica and then had twisted it around so he looked like the innocent party.
It took a special kind of twisted bastard to make that happen.
My fingers naturally tightened about Jessica’s fingers, and though I didn’t think she even noticed, I did. I made a concerted effort to release the tension, not having a single desire to hurt her more than she’d already been hurt by other men.
I released a shaky breath. “What can I do?”
The question seemed to stir her from the stupor into which she’d fallen after having made her admission. She blinked down at the tomatoes, then turned to me with a frown. “Do?”
I nodded. “Do. Tell me. I’ll do it.”
I was stunned when her lips twitched, curving into a smile that took my breath away. “What like? Assassinate my attacker?”
“If you want.”
For a second, I knew she thought I was joking. Then she saw the severity of my features, heard the stoniness of my voice.
“No!” she squeaked, shaking her head and rearing back from me.
“I-I can figure out a way to…”
Her hand snapped out to grab mine, and she squeezed my fingers in rapid pulses, as though trying to impart a message physically as well as verbally.
“Max. Stop. That isn’t necessary.”
“If he’s done it once, he might have done it before or do it again. No bastard like that deserves…”
“No… No, I believe in karma,” she told me gently, and I realized then she’d turned around so she was no longer facing the tomatoes but me. Her knees had come to rest between my own—I’d spread them for balance when I crouched down beside her. With her other hand, she reached down to cup my jaw. “I only want the bad karma to go his way. Not yours.”
I swallowed, feeling a mixture of rage and misery and hate unfurling through me.