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"I'm fine." She kept her eyes closed, not moving.

He reached over, rubbing her hand. "It's not a request. You didn't eat earlier."

She opened her eyes and he handed her a plate and napkin. She sat there, picking at the bread.

"They wouldn't have helped you. Whoever was standing on the cliff wasn't a friend."

She looked at him. "You're not a friend."

"No, I'm not." He leaned back on the couch, studying her. "You said Michael didn't stir anything in you. What did you mean?"

She looked up, her eyes narrowed. "Why do you want to know so much about my relationship with Michael? Who cares? I left him. That's all you need to know."

He picked up his wine. "I'm curious about you and your past, and because, as I've said to you before, I'm trying to protect us. I need to know if he's going to be a problem."

She set her plate down. "Protect us from what? You're the killer."

"Watch it, Charlotte. You have no idea who or what I am, but I guarantee I'm not the one you should be worried about."

* * *

He was right. She had no idea who he was, but she did know one thing. He killed those men in the bar. She'd watched him, as she came out of the bathroom. He shot them both. Anger for her stupidity ripped through her and she took a deep breath trying to calm herself. She could still feel his kiss on her forehead and her reaction to it and she was ashamed her body kept responding to this man in the way it did. He handed her the wine glass and she took a small sip.

"Answer my question, darling. What did you mean when you said he didn't stir anything in you?" he asked, removing the knife and gun from the leather holster and placing them on the table in front of him.

"Stop calling me darling. I'm not your darling."

"I'll call you what I want. Now answer my question. It's the last time I'll ask," he said, unfazed, as he removed his belt, setting it next to his weapons.

She stared at it. Her face grew warm at the thought of her over his knee. She didn't need another repeat of that experience. "It's complicated."

"I'm sure I can keep up."

She swallowed, wondering where to begin. "Our families have always known each other and used to joke when we were little how wonderful it would be if we married one day, the uniting of two great dynasties. After I graduated university, we were at a party together and he asked me out. I said yes, more out of obligation than any other reason, and it kind of continued from there. Next thing I knew, we were engaged." She paused, putting her glass down on the table.

"Go on," he said, watching her closely.

"Michael is a boy, not a man. So, when I said he didn't stir anything in me, I meant just that. He didn't challenge me, and we have nothing in common. He's immature and spoiled and bad tempered. I tried to break it off many times, but my parents really wanted it. He was the son my father never had. They liked the idea of our two families being united more than they cared about my happiness. At the last minute I panicked, and I ran. Now I'm here. I think this is karma. What kind of person leaves someone at the altar? I'm the immature one."

"You're not immature. You were smart to realize it wouldn't have worked." He finished his sandwich, wiping the crumbs from his face with his napkin. The music filled the small house, slow and solemn. She was surprised he chose it. "You have an older sister," he continued, picking up his wine.

"Why do you care?" His line of questioning was treading on a subject she didn't like to discuss.

He shook his head. "Just answer."

"Yes."

"What does she do?" he asked.

"She's a doctor."

"You said your father wanted a son."

"I was supposed to be a boy. They thought they were having a boy. The ultrasound showed as much. But well… I turned out to be a girl and I ruined the perfect plan," she said solemnly.

"Let me guess, your father was disappointed." The creases around his eyes deepened.

"To say the least. He wouldn't hold me or look at me in the beginning. I had no name for three months. Charles was the name they had picked out if I had been a boy. My mother was the one who finally decided on Charlotte."

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