Page 58 of Fight for Me

Blane grabbed her arm and spun her back to face him. “Then what am I?”

She gasped in surprise, her face stark. There was a moment where they both just breathed. Then she spoke in a whisper.

“A man who I’m utterly terrified I’m falling in love with.”

Blane’s breath caught in his chest, frozen between shock and exultation. Had he heard her right? By the look on her face, he had.

He pulled her closer, gently cupping her bruised cheek, and settled his lips over hers. Her mouth opened beneath his, allowing him access to her tongue and taste. He savored the trust she was showing him. His hand cradled her head, his fingers sliding through her thick, soft hair.

They were both gasping when he came up for air, resting his forehead against hers.

“You can trust me. I swear I’ll never hurt you. And I’ll protect you, no matter what.”

To Anne, it sounded disturbingly like a vow. She stepped away, breaking his touch.

“I’m not yours to protect,” she said, shaking her head. “You don’t owe me anything.”

“Don’t I?”

She felt her face whiten. “Please don’t tell me this is about last night. You insulted me once. Don’t do it again.”

“Last night I made mistakes,” he said, spreading his arms wide. “I admit it. I was a complete asshole and said all the wrong things. I’m sorry.”

A man who apologized. Practically unheard of.

Anne swallowed. “Apology accepted. But that doesn’t change the fact that I don’t want to involve you in this. You have a presidential campaign you’ll be starting soon. This won’t help. Especially if anyone finds out. And…and you could get hurt.” That last part was what was the root of it. That man last night had terrified her.

He smiled. “You’re cute.”

Ugh. Male bravado. She rolled her eyes. “I’m serious, Blane.”

“I’m not usually a black and white kind of guy. But he hurt you. I’m going to hurt him back.”

A little corner of her tucked away somewhere that was a throwback to the stone age was just a bit thrilled at this declaration. Like her man going off to avenge her honor. But it was a ridiculous thought and she squashed it immediately.

Men had survived this long because women were able to rein them in when they went rushing off into situations for which they were ill-prepared. Blane wasn’t a savage like the man last night.

She shook her head. “I can’t be responsible like that. I’d never forgive myself if something happened to you.” The very thought made her gut churn.

“Ditto.”

They were at an impasse. By the look in his eyes, she wasn’t budging him.

“Fine,” she conceded with a huff of air. “But tell me you can have your security detail or someone you can tell where we’re going who’ll be able to keep tabs on you.”

“I have someone I can call if it’ll make you feel better,” he said.

“It will.”

He nodded and got back on his phone while Anne went into her bedroom to change into jeans and a thick hoodie. Instead of her purse, she grabbed a backpack. Pulling items from a bathroom drawer, she caught her reflection and paused.

“Are you really doing this?” she whispered to herself, appalled and afraid in equal measure.

Did she have a choice?No, she didn’t. Not if what she’d seen in that envelope Smithson gave her was true. And how could it not be? There werephotographs. Matt deserved justice. Anne deserved to know why.

Yet still…her heart ached and tears threatened. She should’ve known it was too good to be true, she thought bitterly. Life just didn’t work out like that. Falling in love with the man of your dreams and living happily ever after was a myth.

Anne dashed her hand across her eyes, stuffed more things in the backpack, then slung it over her back and returned to the living room. She was once again composed. Blane was ready to go. He’d arrived in casual clothes and heavy boots.

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