Page 72 of Dangerous Lover

Chapter Fifteen

“Eat.” Jack frowned at Caroline’s plate, where she’d been picking at the same slice of chicken for the past half hour, looking more and more worried.

She’d prepared a fabulous dinner. Lentil soup, sourdough bread, chicken whosis—an Italian name like terrazzo only different—a four bean salad and apple crumble. She’d cooked enough for four people and he’d eaten for three and a half. The other half was on her plate, and she was pushing pieces around listlessly.

Caroline looked up from where she’d been watching her fork tines make interesting little patterns in the chicken breast. “Do you—do you think he went into the kitchen, too?”

Jack didn’t have to ask who ‘he’ was. ‘He’ was the shithead who’d invaded her home and made her pale and shaky. “Probably not. Kitchens aren’t usually where people keepvaluables, though they should. Precisely because burglars don’t check kitchens. Why?”

Caroline shrugged, the tines now making patterns on the plate with the beans. “I don’t know. It’s just—” She watched her fork shift a green bean from one side of the plate to the other. “Ever since I’ve been taking boarders, I’m sort of used to the idea of sharing my space. But the bedroom and the kitchen aremineand I hate the thought of someone pawing through my things.”

Jack speared a good bite of the chicken and held it in front of her mouth. “Well, then, it’s a good thing that after tomorrow no one else is going to break into here. Now open wide.”

He slipped the bite into her mouth and waited for her to chew. By the time she’d swallowed, he had another square of chicken at the end of his fork. “Another one.”

She grimaced, but ate it. The third time she turned her head. “I’m really not hungry, Jack.”

Frustrated, he put his fork down. He wanted to force her to eat, but he found he couldn’t use any form of force with her.

Caroline was looking down at the table-top, a long lock of shiny hair falling forward over her face. Jack pushed the lock back with his forefinger, then lifted her chin so that she had to look at him.

“That’s not all that’s bothering you, is it?”

She shook her head, the movement enough to send a faint fragrance of roses over to him, rising over the sharp smells of the food. “No.”

“This is about your—friend, isn’t it? You were in shock this afternoon. You weren’t expecting that, were you?”

“God, no.” Caroline looked up at him, chin quivering. Her eyes welled, but she blinked back tears furiously. His heart gave a tight little squeeze at how she willed the tears back. He suspected she’d done a lot of that over the years. “I’ve known Sanders for … heavens, forever. I think I told you we dated in our teens. I thought I knew him inside out. He’s got his good points. He’s intelligent and good at his job. He knows a lot about art and design. He’s a good dinner companion and he’s fun if you want a relaxing night out. He’s got good taste in films and theater. You just can’t expect too much from him. He’s vain and selfish and he’ll always look out for Sanders McCullin first, but then there’s his charming side to make up for that. That’s okay because I know him well enough not to expect more than he can give. Today just—” She shook her head. “I had no idea.”

Jack placed his hand over hers. She needed to talk it out and he was more than willing to give her the space to do it in. “Tell me,” he said quietly.

Caroline looked him full in the face, eyes wide. “He liked it when I fought him.” She shook her head, slowly, clearly still stunned at the idea. “It excited him. It was … God, it was unmistakable. At first, when he tried to kiss me, I thought all I had to do was push him away, so I did. Or tried to. He just held me closer. It’s not—” She shook her head. “Most women have experiences like that. Someone you don’t want wants you. And usually it doesn’t take that much to make them back down, once you make it clear you’re not interested. And I thought it would be like that with Sanders—just push away and he’d stop. But he didn’t. And when I started fighting back hard…” she drew a deep breath. “He got an erection. It washorrible.”

Son of a bitch. Maybe Jack had been wrong. Maybe heshouldhave killed the asshole.

That fucker McCullin had punched a hole in Caroline’s self-confidence, in her sense of herself as a woman. Jack wanted to give a measure of control back to her, repair the torn fabric.

“I know guys like that,” he said, as he held Caroline’s hand. “It’s like there’s something fundamentally wrong inside them, like there’s something broken. Because, honey, a normal man doesnotget excited at the idea or the feel of a woman who’s frightened or in pain. Trust me on this one. The military attracts a lot of guys like that fu—like McCullin. They like the idea of the power trip and of being trained to physically dominate.

“Luckily, the military also has ways to screen men like that out, and they do that because they never work out as soldiers. Those kind of men are broken inside in other ways, too, not just sexually. They don’t know how to work in teams, which is what a good Army is all about. They don’t take orders well and they often have an inflated idea of their own abilities, which can be disastrous in combat. So a lot of them get weeded out. Not all of them, but most of them.” He held her chin and bent and kissed her softly, just a touch of his lips to hers. “The guy’s a sick fuck, and he’s not worth an instant of your time or your worry.”

Caroline gave a soft laugh. “Actually,you’rethe one who should be worrying. Didn’t he threaten to sue you? I warn you, Sanders is a really good lawyer. I hope you won’t have any trouble because of me.”

She’d been manhandled by someone she considered a friend, had had her home broken into, and she was worried abouthim. “Let me worry about that.” He reached out with his thumb and erased the little frown line between her brows. “He doesn’t scare me, believe me.”

“No, I imagine he wouldn’t. And I never thanked you for showing up right in the nick of time, did I? Just like in the movies. Jack Prescott To The Rescue. Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.” Jack’s voice was suddenly hoarse and he had to clear his throat to get the words out.

She was holding the stem of her wine glass, twirling it, watching the deep red wine climb the walls of the crystal, lost in thought.

The hand holding the stem was delicate, as was her wrist. He could see the tendons working as she twirled the stem. Everything about her was delicate, even fragile. Tonight she didn’t have her usual rose under ivory color—she was pale and looked tired.

Much as she clearly tried to build little havens for herself from the outside world in her home and her shop, the sharp-toothed outside world had come roaring in to take a big bite out of her in both her havens.

The world was not kind to the kind-hearted.

Jack’s heart simply rolled over in his chest.

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