Page 49 of Zane

He wasn't a violent man normally, or at least that's what he told himself. He could hold his own during a fistfight. He was an expert in the art of hand-to-hand combat and dabbled in jujitsu. He never backed down from a fight, ever. His anger was slow in coming, because once it was loose, it was frightening. So he kept it leashed. But the one thing that always set his teeth on edge and his temper burning was someone hurting the person he loved.

Unclamping his teeth, he tossed the cigar into the grass below, watching its light sizzle and then die. Dragging restless fingers through his hair, he turned to go back in, stopping short when he saw her standing just inside the bedroom. She hadn't slept long. He had hoped she would. Without a word, he went in and closed the doors with a snap, eyes studying her face.

"I should apologize."

"Why?" he bit out. Swearing softly at the injured look on her face, he walked to her and took her hands. "You'll only piss me off if you do." He drew her over to the sofa. When she settled next to him, he pulled her onto his lap.

"I never make it a habit to give a damn about what people think of me or even what they say." He stared at her curiously. "I'm guessing it's not the same for you."

She moved her shoulders restlessly. She had opened her eyes a few minutes earlier, hoping to see him next to her. When she hadn't, she had wondered if he had left. "They, my parents, had a strong influence on my life." A small smile touched her lips. "I told you I was a very obedient child."

She closed her eyes when he rubbed his hands up and down her arms. His gentleness surprised her. She would never have thought that a man who hung out with bikers and looked like him, with tattoos and that cynical look stamped on his handsome face, would show such empathy. William would never have stayed and offered her comfort. He would more than likely blame her and demand that she apologize to her mother.

Zane offered no judgment and was here, still here for her, even though her mother had insulted him. The very memory had her cringing.

"Why are you still here?"

Her abrupt question had him staring at her, puzzled.

"Pardon?"

"I'm sure you're not used to people talking to you like that." She was as stiff as a board, and he figured it was embarrassment that was causing it and the cool tone that had entered her voice. "I rather thought you would have gone by now."

"Is that right?" He continued to regard her steadily until she was the one who dropped her gaze. "It so happens I hate bullies, and that was what your mother was. You don't have to put up with it."

"Is that the only reason you stayed? Because you hate bullies?"

"Among others. What do you want to hear, Kara?" he asked quietly.

"Nothing."

"Try again."

"I was humiliated."

"I figured that."

"She was unforgivably rude to you," she whispered.

"I can take care of myself, and the fact is I don't know her, so her opinion means nothing to me. I know who I am."

She stared at him for a moment before nodding. "That's what I lack."

"What is that?"

"Confidence." She shrugged. To his surprise and pleasure, she leaned into him, arms wrapping around his waist, face burrowed against his chest.

"Can we drop the subject? I don't want to talk about it anymore."

"Fine by me. We'll just stay here." He cradled her, breathing in her scent. She had asked him why he stayed. The answer was simple: he didn't want to be anywhere else. Kissing the top of her head, he closed his eyes and contented himself with just holding her.

*****

"No. Absolutely not." His voice was firm, expression resolute. He had spent another night with her after running by his place to pick up some extra clothing. He hadn't even stayed long enough to take a shower, in case her mother or that prick she had been involved with took it into their heads to pay her a visit and beat her while she was down.

He had spent the night making love to her, wanting to erase the haunted look from her lovely face and replace it with something else. He believed he had accomplished that. Now, this morning, they were fresh from shower sex and having a meal in the kitchen. They were on their second cup of coffee after polishing off the pancakes and bacon she had prepared when she made the shocking request.

"I want to meet your friends." She pointed her cup at him. This morning, she looked fresh as a daisy and rested, which was something, considering that he had kept her up most of the night. "Unless you're ashamed of them."