Page 47 of Resisting His Target
“I wasn’t talking, I was touching.”
“Don’t do that, either. Don’t even look at it.” He pulled a shirt from a cart similar to the one in her room, tugging the material over his head. “You’re always staring. You think I don’t notice? Like it doesn’t matter to me?”
The scars had been in front of her all along, but now she was seeing the wound. “I never tried to hide it. Why does it upset you?”
He raised his eyebrows. “Seriously? I walk around with the worst day of my life where my face should be, and you’re asking why it upsets me when you stare at the scars?”
That did make her sound rather insensitive. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize—”
“You should get some sleep. You’ve got a big day tomorrow.”
It was her turn to laugh. They’d just been snuggled in his bed for the past four hours. “You’re kicking me out?”
“You’re the one who wanted separate rooms.”
It was tempting to retreat, but she couldn’t let a misunderstanding be the reason. “Well, I don’t anymore. This is a ridiculous argument—”
“It isn’t an argument, it’s my life.” He shook his head. “Don’t you get that? I live in a world outside of yours, with my own problems.”
“So then tell me what they are. I want to know what you’re thinking. I’ll listen to you.”
“Why?”
“Because I like you.”
I care about you.
The absurdity of the words and his certain rejection stopped her cold. She didn’t know he felt this way about his face, didn’t know anything about him. The man she thought he was wouldn’t be saying these things to her, wouldn’t be shutting her out over something that was so unimportant in the grand scheme of things.
“Cowboy was right,” he said. “I should’ve had another one of the guys take over when we left Texas.”
His words were like a door slamming in an empty room. He wished he wasn’t even here, and the ease with which he did so hurt her deeply. She was naked while he was clothed. She was cold and alone, he pushing her out of his life with an efficiency that spoke of great practice.
She wished she could rewind time. “I can’t make it better for you, Ian. I can’t fix what the world has taken away. But I won’t pretend not to see, and you shouldn’t ask me to.”
He met her stare, his face expressionless. “Look, it’s all right. Okay? No big deal.” He looked away. “You should get some sleep.”
“That’s it? You’re kicking me out, just like that?”
“It’s late, Jackie.”
She reached for her panties and bra, her mind going numb as she walked to the door. “It doesn’t have to be this way,” she said quietly.
He opened the door wider, and she walked back through it. “Good night,” he said.
She hesitated. This wasn’t really happening. Razorback hadn’t really just asked her to leave and shut her out in the time it took to brush his teeth. She opened her mouth to protest, to fight for what she wanted, to make him see—but the door clicked shut behind her.
She was alone.
It was the night before she would destroy her former husband before his allies, friends, and the American public, and she was worried about Ian Rhodes. She blinked several times, refusing to cry for the man who didn’t want to be near her, who would rather wallow in despair than accept a new beginning.
She turned off the light and climbed between cold sheets, reminding herself of what was truly important. Safety. Selena. Creating a home. She didn’t need Razorback. She was a strong, independent woman. She was used to being alone.
28
Jackie had barely slept, her heart broken and her emotions wrecked. When the sound of a distant siren had her sitting up and startled, she gave up completely and got dressed for the day.
Finding a pair of tinted glasses was her first priority, and the early hour made it safer to venture out. The political world was a small one, and too many people in town for the convention might recognize her. A drugstore around the corner from the hotel had some, then she’d gotten herself a bagel and coffee before heading back to her room.
