The Secret Life Of Bryan. Lori Foster
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heart beat so hard, it shook her. “I’m not a child, Bryan,” she whispered. “I know what I want.”
“A blind fool could see you’re not a kid.” The words were heavy with irritation. “But this is not going to happen. You’re here under my protection, and you’re my responsibility.”
Shay drew a slow breath, feeling like a fool who’d dug a hole for herself and now couldn’t climb out. He wouldn’t touch her because of what he believed her to be, yet she’d repulse him if he knew who she really was. That left her with few alternatives, none of them to her liking.
She straightened her spine and looked at him squarely. “I’m not a prostitute.”
His disbelief scorched her. “This isn’t about what you do. You don’t have to lie to me.”
Between rejecting her and insulting her, he batted a big fat zero. “Pay attention, Bryan, okay? I am not a prostitute.”
His brows pulled down. “Is that right?”
This part wouldn’t be easy, and she’d have to do a little verbal dancing, but she had to convince him. “You assumed I was a prostitute,” she said with a shrug, “so I let you believe it. But I’m not.”
Folding his arms over his chest, he studied her. “Okay. Then what—I mean who—are you? A biochemist? A fighter pilot? What?”
She winced. “I can’t tell you.”
“Right.” A cynical smile curled one side of his mouth. It was obvious he still believed her to be a hooker, but for now, he’d play along. “So why’d you lie?”
She lifted her chin with scathing disregard. “I didn’t exactly lie. I just let you believe what you wanted to believe.”
“Uh-huh.” And then he reiterated, “Why?”
The words rushed out, a little too urgent, a lot too desperate. “Because if I told you the truth, you’d hate me. And you were being so nice to me, I didn’t want you to send me away. I wanted to get to know you better and—”
He took one hard stride toward her, effectively cutting off her rambling explanation. His expression was forbidding, his eyes almost black. Shay started to back up, but it just wasn’t in her nature to retreat. So she braced her legs apart and waited.
Though they were of a similar height, he was all solid muscle, wide shoulders and throbbing power. Their gazes were nearly level, yet he seemed to tower over her. “You actually believe I would have sent you away?”
Shay blinked in surprise. He hadn’t lambasted her for lying. He hadn’t lost his temper. He was just…insulted by her lack of faith in his scruples?
“Answer me, Shay.”
She jumped at the lash of his demand. “Yes.” His tone would have angered her—no one talked to her like that—but with him so close, it was damn difficult not to touch him again. There was no room in her thoughts for anything else. “You would have sent me packing, but I don’t want to go.”
“And I guess that means you won’t tell me why you were really at that bar, dressed the way you were, hanging around outside in a storm?”
“My business is my own,” she said, and before he could start growling about that, she explained. “Until my dress got soaked, it was in the best of taste. It’s just that the rain made it transparent. Otherwise, it would have been fine.”
She thought that might sidetrack him a little, but he wasn’t moved one bit. If anything, his jaw hardened in that now familiar manner of annoyance.
“Shay?”
He managed to say her name without his lips moving. Probably a bad sign. “I can’t tell you.” And then, going on the defensive, she added, “Why does it matter so much? I’d like to stay. Here, at the safe house.” She bit her bottom lip, then really pushed. “And if you wouldn’t mind too much, I’d prefer the other women believe I’m a hooker.”
With droll sarcasm, he said, “You’re not a hooker, but you want everyone to think you are?”
That did sound idiotic, but so what? “Yes. They wouldn’t like the truth any more than you would.” It looked like his eyes might cross. “I’m only telling you this much so you won’t think you’re taking advantage of me.”
He stared at her so long and hard, Shay felt rattled.
“Could I stay? Please?”
It seemed to take him forever to come to a decision. “Shit.” His frown seared her. “Yeah, of course you can stay.” She had just started to relax when his jaw jutted forward. “But your reasons for being here won’t change anything. While you’re here, you’re off limits. So you can just keep your hands to yourself.”
“Oh, but—”
“Just don’t cause any trouble.” Struck by his own words, his back straightened. “Speaking of trouble—you’re not a reporter or something, are you?”
Taken aback, and highly insulted, Shay gasped, “No.”
He leaned closer, his gaze flinty and his manner challenging. “If I find out otherwise…”
The threat went unsaid, but she knew he’d think of something dire. Shay shoved him back a step, out of her personal space. “I’m not, so quit trying to bully me.”
He grunted. “As if anyone could.” He said it more to himself than her, then turned back to the table. “Whatever problems you have, they won’t matter, not to me and not to anyone else in this house. What you tell the other women is up to you. But I mean it—no trouble.”
Shay crossed her heart. “Scout’s honor.” She felt a little ashamed of herself for taking advantage of him. But not enough that she’d relent. She still wanted him. And once he got over his noble streak, he’d admit he wanted her, too. “Thanks.” And for good measure, she added, “I’m sorry for misleading you earlier.”
He dropped into his chair without replying, probably because he still didn’t believe her. After a long stare, he said, “As long as we’re apologizing…I’m sorry for what happened. It won’t happen again.”
“The kiss?”
His brows lowered. “You took me by surprise with the tears.”
Shay actually felt herself flushing. “I’m doubly sorry for that. I’m not a person who ever cries much. But sometimes I just get so frustrated…”
One eyebrow arched up.
“I don’t mean sexually! Well, that, too.”
He snarled in exasperation.
“But I meant when I try to do things and they don’t work out the way I want them to.”
“That’s what happened tonight?” He tapped the pen against the table. “Things didn’t work out, your friend got hurt, and you ended up stranded in a rainstorm during a blackout?”
Shay could just imagine all the ridiculous conclusions he drew. She shrugged, wondering how much she should tell him about Leigh. She’d tried to help the girl but it wasn’t until after Leigh had gotten hurt that she’d finally accepted Shay’s offer.
“Do you mind if we eat while we talk?” She picked up both plates and joined him at the table. “I’m starving.”
The sharp look he sent her way made her roll her eyes. “It’s an expression, Bryan. I’m not literally starving. It’s just that I didn’t have much breakfast, and then lunch was ruined by a crisis, so—”
“Your friend?”
Well, now she definitely had to tell him. She only hoped he’d at least know something about Leigh’s background, something Shay could use to help the girl.
She