He stared back at her for several seconds, the emotion in his eyes unexplainable. Soon, one corner of his lips curled slightly as he asked, “Does this mean you don’t really love me?”
Was this guy nuts? He just killed a man, and he’s making jokes?
“I only said that to get your attention,” Emma bit out sharp. “I needed you to know what I was planning to do.”
“Oh, I knew.” He moved toward her. “That was smart thinking, by the way. Dangerous as hell, but smart.”
First, he teases me, and then he gives me a compliment.
Emma didn’t understand this man in the least.
“How are you so calm?” she demanded.
“Calm?” Trace huffed out a humorless laugh. “Trust me, sweetheart. I’m far the fuck away from calm.”
Eying him up and down. He sure didn’t look like he was seconds away from falling apart.
Stopping inches away from her, Trace clenched his fists at his sides. “It’s the way I was trained,” he rumbled. “You see what I want you to see. Can’t let my enemies see my fear, and I don’t let anyone else...”
“What?” Emma had to know.
“In.” He brought his palm to the uninjured side of her face. “I don’t let anyone else in.”
The sirens grew louder. Emma could see flashing blue and red lights shining up from the parking lot behind her building, but her focus was on the man standing before her.
I don’t let anyone else in.
What a sad, lonely way to live.
Wrapping her fingers around his thick wrist, she leaned into his touch. “You don’t have to protect yourself from me,” she whimpered softly. “I can’t hurt you.”
“Ah, baby.” His gaze burned into hers. “I think you could hurt me worst of all.”
Chapter 8
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