Page 56 of Parker

Parker’s expression softened as he rested his hands low on his narrow hips, another wave of desire splashing into her without warning.

Damn, there was just something about that manly, alpha stance that sent her pulse racing. Or maybe it was justthisman.

But what got to Quinn even more was the sincerity in his words. The truth reflected in his eyes. He hadn’t been avoiding her intentionally, nor was he upset with her for cutting their one and only kiss short.

He feels guilty about leaving you alone.

“So you arranged for me to have my very own whirlwind day of shopping and overindulgence to make up for it.” Her shoulders fell as her own contriteness set in.

“Thought it might be nice for you to get a break from the prison’s phone records and visitor logs.” He shrugged. “Guess I was wrong.”

The confusion and hurt in the man’s eyes clawed away at the walls she’d built around her heart.

“Itwasnice, Park.” Tears pricked the corners of Quinn’s eyes as her arms fell back to her sides. “It was thoughtful and sweet, and… Instead of thanking you, I turned into a royal bitch.”

“Don’t.” Parker’s gaze sharpened, his tone becoming deep and unwavering. “Don’t call yourself that.”

“Why not? It’s true. You did this wonderful thing for me, and I…” She swiped a tear away before it could fall. “I ruined it.” Just like she ruined everything else that might possibly make her happy.

“You didn’t ruin a damn thing, sweetheart. This one’s on me. I guess I just thought…I mean, most of the women I know wouldkillfor that kind of attention.”

“Not to mention the Louis Vuittons.”

“Those, too.” A soft chuckle had his lips curling into the first real smile she’d seen since her moment of overreaction, but fell with a slight shake of his head. “I should’ve known better than to think you’d care about designer clothes and champagne brunches.”

“Why should you have known that?”

“Because you’re nothing like those other women.” He lifted his hand as if to reach for her but stopped mid-rise.

He said he wouldn’t touch you again, remember? Not unless you ask.

Focusing on his most recent statement, Quinn responded with a jutted, “No. I’m not.”

“That’s not a bad thing, Quinn.” Another twitch of his lips. “Trust me.”

“You sure about that?”

Parker nodded. “The women the world sees me with are nothing more than accessories. And before you claw my eyes out”—he raised a defensive hand—“that’s all I am to them, too.”

“What do you mean?”

“They weren’t my girlfriends. Very few made it past the first date. And on the off chance that happened, it never lasted more than a couple months.”

“Because you got bored?”

“No, Quinn.” His blue stare was uncompromising. “Becausetheydid.”

Wait. Did he just say…

“The women got bored? Why?” She looked at their current surroundings. “How?”

“Because, unlike you, those types of women thrive on attention. They have this voracious need to be seen. To be coveted. And the only way to fulfil that need is to constantly be in the public eye.”

“Which happens when you start dating someone rich and famous,” Quinn surmised. “But they had that with you, right?”

“Not as much as they thought. And definitely not as much as they wanted.” Parker licked his lips. “The thing about me, Quinn, is I’m actually a homebody.”

A barked laugh filled the two-story entryway. “I’m sorry.” She covered her mouth as a show of remorse. “I thought that was a joke. You know, because there are a lot of pictures of you out on the town with gorgeous women.”

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