Caine's Reckoning. Sarah McCarty
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across her lips, tasting the salt of his skin and the bitterness of her fear.
“Just saying the lady doesn’t have to suffer thinking there isn’t anyone here who won’t stand for her if she wants it.”
He couldn’t mean what she thought.
But he did. Caine confirmed it. “Sam’s offered you his protection, do you want to take it?”
Was it a trick?
“You’d just let me go?”
“Hell, no, but you’re free to take him up on his offer.”
Some choice. Caine or Sam. Wife or whore. “You’d fight your friend?”
“What’s mine stays mine, Gypsy.”
Oh, yes, he’d fight. Not because he loved her or wanted her, but because his pride was involved. And he considered her his. She understood that.
“So what’s it going to be?”
She didn’t know Sam. She didn’t really know Caine, either, but she knew this one thing. A possessive man wasn’t a sharing man. That made the devil she knew a better choice. “I don’t want his protection,” she whispered.
“Good.” The tense muscles against her relaxed subtly.
“She make a decision?” Sam called.
“Yup. She’s decided I’m the more attractive one.”
“Shit. On top of needing to gain weight, the woman needs spectacles.”
Sam didn’t sound serious or even disappointed.
“You were joking?” she asked Caine.
“No.”
She didn’t know what to do with that flat pronouncement. “I don’t understand you.”
“You might find it easier if you didn’t keep comparing me to cow shit.”
She let go of his wrist. Weariness rolled over her in a debilitating wave, spawning a ripple of defeat. “I can’t help it. I don’t have anything else to compare you to.”
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