The sight of her generous rear in the black slacks of her uniform was more erotic than it should be. When she closed the door behind him and shut the blinds, his mind filled with thoughts of taking her on her desk to reassert his claim.
“What was that?” Zasha asked. Hands on her hips as she stared him down, full lips pursed with displeasure.
“He was too close.”
“Roger is always too close–”
“So you liked him there?”
“What? No! But he’s harmless.”
“That’s not the way I see it.”
“Are you actually jealous?” she asked. Her arched eyebrows rose as she shook her head.
“I don’t share what’s mine, and we both know that is exactly what you are.”
“Phe—”
“No, I’ve grow tired of your constant excuses. You asked me to observe your customs, respect your culture, and I have, despite what it cost me. Did you ever plan to do the same?”
He issued a curt nod, his body ramrod straight as he side-stepped her, and reached around her to turn the doorknob.
Her soft hand placed on his made him stop.
“You’re right,” she said.
The whispered admission stopped him in his tracks. He let his arm fall back to his side as he stepped back to study her. Her dark head was bowed as she looked up him. The hazel jewels that had flashed at him only moments before now d
ulled by tears.
“I’ve been so lost in my own head I haven’t given any thought to how it must be for you; and that’s not fair.”
Her husky voice was chocked full of an emotion he had never experienced from her before, vulnerability. A part of him wanted to wrap her in his arms and tell her it would be okay. But he got the distinct impression this moment was necessary.
“You know I was in foster care, but we never talked about why.”
His ears detected the inflection in her voice before she paused to clear her throat. Whatever it was she was about to say was big.
“When I was eleven my mother fell head over heels for this guy, moved him in the house within the first month, and started acting out of character.” Her body trembled as she pushed the words out. “Six months later, he killed her.”
His heart ached for what she had been through. “Zasha,” he whispered. Phelan knew from personal experience the pain the loss of a parent to a tragic end brought. But this was her time to talk.
“Now you see why this thing between us scared the shit out of me,” she said as she pushed away from the door. “It’s sudden. It’s illogical, and every time I’m around you I lose more of myself.”
“No, you don’t,” he said.
“Yes, I do, with every ounce of control I forfeit.”
“Why does it have to be all or nothing, Zash?”
“Because I don’t recognize myself when I’m with you!”
“I’m doing my best to take this slow.”
“Slow? You were ready to hand Roger his ass tonight. I think it’s time we both admit, slow isn’t going to cut it.”
“Then what would you have me do?”