Chapter Eight

The patter of rain against her bedroom window prodded Bethany out of her reverie. Davis said there had been no other scent but hers. Someone had used Bryant’s scent blocker. Had they been in his apartment looking for more? Had they stolen it previously? Had her brother given it to them? Had they been working with him? For him? Or had he been working for them?

So many thoughts and questions raced through her mind.

Bethany gently shook her head.

Focus, Bethany. Musing over her brother and who he may or may not have been working with would not solve her biggest dilemma at the moment.

Davis was waiting in her living room, refusing to leave.

Which meant he would be sleeping in her flat a few steps away from her bedroom. Her cozy flat shrank before her eyes.

He’d insisted she wasn’t safe, and no amount of convincing him to the contrary had worked when they’d arrived back at her flat. She’d finally given up trying and muttered to him about getting bedding for the couch.

She glanced down at the pillow and wool, plaid blanket she’d pulled down from the top of her closet. Placing them on her bed, she raised up on her tippy toes to grab a set of forest green sheets and a matching pillowcase as well.

The soft rain had increased to a staccato of beats against the window. Good. The sound of rain had always helped her to sleep. She had a feeling she would need all the help she could get tonight.

The soft bedding filled and overflowed her arms as she trudged out of her bedroom and into the living room. Davis stood staring out the window. He glanced over his shoulder at her, and then walked over to take the pile from her arms.

His warm hands brushed against hers—sending a tingle of awareness racing up her arms. She snatched her hands away and clasped them together behind her back.

He dropped the bedding on the open sofa bed. He must have opened it while she was in the bedroom. She glanced around the room to see he had tucked her table against the wall and pushed back the other furniture to make room.

Davis began pulling the sheet across the mattress. Bethany quickly stepped forward to grasp the other side and help him.

“I don’t suppose there is any point in trying again to make you listen to reason about this?”

“Nope.”

“You would be much more comfortable in your suite.” Bethany glanced down the length of the mattress. “I doubt you will even fit on this.”

“It’s fine. I’ve slept on worse.”

They also fixed the top sheet and the blanket together. “Even if it wasn’t a simple break-in, the odds that whoever it was would come after me have to be astronomical. Why would they? If they wanted to hurt me, they had the opportunity while I was unconscious.”

A slight shudder rippled over her skin as visions of what could have happened to her played in her head.

Davis stiffened and spoke through a clenched jaw. “Has it not occurred to you that something spooked them before they could kill you? Your brother had a hidden lab in his apartment. It’s not out of the realm of possibility he also had a hidden exit that no one has discovered yet. Or your attacker simply walked out the front door before I arrived. The scent blocker masked any smell I could have gotten to track them. They still may come after you to finish the job.”

Bethany dropped her gaze and wrapped her arms about her waist.

“I think it makes more sense that I surprised them by entering the apartment, and they simply wanted out and I blocked their escape.”

“Your Pollyanna attitude is going to get you killed.”

“I hardly think being realistic and logical can be construed as a Pollyanna attitude. You naturally see the danger in every situation and react accordingly. I am sure that makes you good at your job. I just do not see the point in overreacting.”

Davis stalked around the bed toward her. Determination etched in his features and stance.

Bethany dropped her arms and took a small step back before she caught herself and stood her ground. She would not be intimidated by him, or anyone, ever again.

He stopped inches from her, looming over her. She raised her chin and met his gaze.

“Overreacting? How’s this for overreacting?”

He snatched her against him, wrapping his arms around her.

She gasped and slapped her hands flat against his chest.

Blinking up at him, she opened her mouth to disabuse him of the notion scare tactics would work with her.

His head dipped down, and his lips captured hers before she could utter a word.

Her mind went blank—every thought fluttering right out of her head.

Soft lips, warm breath, and a tight embrace consumed her thoughts.

Stunned pleasure heated her skin.

His tongue sought entrance, and she granted it welcomingly.

The dark, exotic taste of him exploded in her mouth.

Her fingers clenched his shirt in her fists. She rose on her tippy toes to have more access.

Firm hands grasped her hips.

Suddenly, he wrenched his mouth away from hers and lifted and set her back from him.

Bethany leaned forward slightly, not ready to give up the pleasure of his embrace.

Davis spun away and stalked to the window, again staring out into the dark, rainy night.

Comprehension dawned, and a chill spread over her sensitized skin.

He rolled his shoulders and cracked his neck.

Shame and embarrassment hunched her shoulders. Her overenthusiastic response to his kiss had not been well received. What had he expected from her? A slap in the face? Had he been trying to teach her lesson? Show her how vulnerable she was?

Bethany clasped her hands together. She was hardly overly experienced in the area of desire, but she didn’t think he had been unaffected by their kiss. His plan may have backfired on him.

She started to turn toward her bedroom but halted the movement.

Avoiding confrontation had always been her pattern, but she'd promised herself she wasn’t going to run and hide anymore. She was an owl, not an ostrich.

“Why did you kiss me?”

His back stiffened.

“Why do you think?”

“That isn’t an answer. It’s irrelevant what I think. I would like to know why please.”

He cocked his head slightly, so she could see his reflection in the glass. “To prove a point.”

Bethany nodded and glanced down at the honey gold planks of the wood floor. It was as she thought. Davis believed her to be weak and unable to defend herself. Their brief history together had hardly shown him differently. She had been duped, betrayed, and left for dead by her own brother.

“I am not weak.” She wasn’t entirely sure whether she was telling him or herself, but she needed to say the words.

Davis faced her and frowned.

Before he could speak and possibly list all the reasons why he thought she was, Bethany clenched her fists at her sides and plowed on, determined to prove her statement to herself and him. “I am not weak. I realize recent events may have portrayed me in a poor light, but I survived. That makes me strong, not weak.”

“I agree.”

Surprised, Bethany met his gaze.

“I don’t think you’re weak. I never did. You’re a survivor. Most wouldn’t have endured what you have.”

She searched his features and words for any hint of sarcasm but found none. “Oh. Well, then.”

“However, that doesn’t mean you don’t need protection.”

Bethany shifted and sighed.

“You’re not a fighter. Have you ever been trained in how to defend yourself?”

“No, it was frowned upon.” She had asked her uncle once if she could take some fighting classes. He had laughed at her and said it was both unnecessary and beneath her station. “I don’t know if you noticed, but there are only two female guards here.”

“I noticed.”

Of course, he did. He noticed everything.

“They had to battle their way to their positions. They are the first. My uncle had male chauvinistic tendencies.”

“No kidding.” Davis sighed and propped his hands on his hips. “Look, if you want, I will show you some basic moves.”

“Yes, please.” Bethany stepped forward.

He held up his hand. “Not tonight. We can start tomorrow. It’s been a long day, and you should get some rest.”

She tried not to let her disappointment show. She wanted to learn. She never wanted to feel vulnerable again.

Bethany turned to go after whispering, “Goodnight.”

Davis mumbled, “Night” in response and rubbed his hands over his face as soon as the door closed behind her.

Holy shit!

The woman nearly brought him to his knees.

His body was on fire with need. Luckily, she was too naïve to notice. Touching her had been a colossal mistake.

She thought the point he had been trying to prove was that she was vulnerable and needed protection, and maybe it had been his initial intent. But somewhere between his first steps and when he reached her and stood staring down at her upturned face, it had changed to proving to himself he didn’t want her. He didn’t crave the touch of her soft skin, or her slight body beneath his hands. She wasn’t his mate.

No way. How could she be? Davis plopped down on the edge of the mattress and rubbed his face roughly with the palms of his hands. Yeah, keep arguing with yourself, Davis.

She was his.

And now what the hell was he going to do?