Page 18 of Nothing to Tell

“You didn’t have to come,” Harper said, curling her fingers around his wrists as his hands continued their caress.

“You were mugged,” he said.“Did you expect me to hear that and ignore it?”

The presence of the strange woman made it impossible to have an honest conversation.

“I didn’t know Adara called you.I don’t know how—I wouldn’t have let them.They must have called when I was with the doctor.”

“Good, I’m glad they called,” he said.“Someone needs to drum some sense into you.What happened?”

She tried, unsuccessfully, to duck away from his touch.“It’s not a big deal.”

He leaned forward, forcing her to slope backward.Dropping his weight to his fists on the mattress at either side of her, Bastian was intent, completely at ease with their proximity.

Her heart, on the other hand, couldn’t handle it.It hammered so hard she could almost hear it screaming to jump from her chest and hide.Shit, the last thing she wanted to do was start panting in his face.If she was going to have a heart attack, guess a hospital was the place to do it.

This man, this deliciously, unconstrained, consuming man, wasn’t shy about using his size and effect on her to demand what he wanted.

Somehow, he loomed closer.“Then you won’t mind telling me what happened.”

Wow, well, when he was set on something, he didn’t let up.Was this battle winnable?Not if she wanted it over as fast as possible.He was so damn assured and unapologetic.Being the sole point of his commanding concentration was both humbling and arousing.The power of his fixation alleviated the pain in her skull, diverting it to the tingling between her thighs.

Swallowing, she licked her lips, accepting Bastian wouldn’t retreat until he had the truth.

“I went out for dinner with Adara and Carnell,” Harper said, tracing a fingernail around the face of his watch.

Her nail kept exploring, moving to the links of the metal strap, sliding in and out.Fidgeting refocused her bouncing endorphins.It was the adrenaline of the night.That was the agitation.She shouldn’t read anything into it, he shouldn’t—was she a billboard of humiliation?

“And?”

“I went outside to make a phone call and… a guy ran up and snatched my purse.”His eyes rose to note the purse on the bed behind her.Yes, that purse.Okay, she knew what he was thinking.“I didn’t let him have it.”

After a long, unimpressed blink, his eyes opened on hers again.“Of course not, that would’ve been too smart.Do you have secret nuclear launch codes in there?The Football wears Prada?”

If he wanted to get sarcastic, she’d get defensive.“No,” she said.“But it’s mine.”

“You have a sentimental attachment to it?”

It was a purse, like any other, one she liked, but it wasn’t an heirloom or a gift.“That’s not the point.”

“What if he’d had a gun?”

Her attacker didn’t have any kind of weapon, except his fists, which were the reason all parties found themselves in this moment.

“He hit me in the face.”

“I can see that.What if he’d had a knife, or another weapon, something that caused more than cuts and bruises?”

“He didn’t.”

Bastian was overreacting, everybody was overreacting.It was done and she was safe.End of story.A mugger had no right to put his hands on her or her things.To be honest, she was surprised everyone else seemed so eager to capitulate.

“You didn’t know that,” he said.“Why would you take the risk?”

“It’s mine!”

Though his exhale was audible, she gave him points for mentally counting to ten before responding.No, there was no need to fuss, but it was sweet of him to come despite their lack of an actual connection—a genuine connection at any rate.

“You’re more important than a purse, Sweet.”