Page 66 of Her Sensual Protector

God, his chest. His lips. His eyes.

It was his eyes that did it for her. He spoke with his eyes, and he seemed to be saying a lot of things. Things that she couldn’t bring herself to believe. He couldn’t be emotionally into her. She’d dated sometimes. There’d been that man—well, boy really—in Guatemala where they were both working on an assignment. He hadn’t really cared. The only thing she allowed herself to care about was W.A.N.T. and family. Not her father. Because people let you down.

But Leo, he seemed to care, but she was just projecting her feelings onto him, wasn’t she?

Ah fuck, I have feelings!

“Ouch!”

She looked down at the blood streaming down her leg.

She felt frustrated tears welling up.

No feelings. No feelings. No feelings.

Feelings got you hurt. Expectations got you hurt. People always left you when you needed them the most.

So I’m stupid to expect Leo to come to my room tonight. He’s seen who I am and changed his mind.

“And I shouldn’t be shaving my legs!”

She looked down at her half-shaved leg. Well, she couldn’t leave it like that, for God’s sake. She finished up and then got out of the shower. She slathered some ointment on the cuts and it stopped the bleeding.

I’m going to read a book. I like books.

She put on a denim skirt and a yellow scoop neck T-shirt, then sat down on the bed and picked up her e-reader. She wasn’t going to call him. He could call. He was good at calling. I’m not projecting feelings, and I didn’t see feelings in his eyes. There are no feelings. No such thing as feelings.

She went through her list of books, looking for one that she could cry to, and found To Kill a Mockingbird.

21

If he spent one more second in his head wondering why she hadn’t called, he’d call Cullen for dating advice. Yep, that would be the kind of punishment he’d deserve for being so goddamned wishy-washy. But seriously, he’d followed her halfway around the world, followed her around the camp, come to her hotel door yesterday, and they’d made love all day and night. Not once had she made one call or come his way. Was he kidding himself?

“Fuck this noise. I’m not going to call Cullen. I’m taking a page out of Nic’s playbook. He’s all about assuming the win. God, twenty-four is so damn young. But I’m assuming the win.”

He looked at his bare feet, then looked at his boots.

Fuck it. Assume the win. Taking off my boots just takes more time.

He left his room and ignored the couple who stared at his feet the entire time he was in the elevator.

He knocked on her door. It seemed like forever until she opened it.

“Please, for the love of God, say you used the peephole before you opened up the door wearing just a T-shirt.”

“Of course I did. Where are your shoes?”

He squinted down at her. “Hey, wait a minute, that’s my T-shirt.”

“Possession is ninth-tenths of the law.”

“Are you going to let me in? Or are we going to talk in the hallway?”

She backed up and he walked in. The bed wasn’t made. As a matter of fact, she’d been in it, and he could see she had been reading on her e-reader.

“What are you reading?”

“I’m pretending I’m back in high school and reading To Kill a Mockingbird,” she said.