Protector's Instinct

The woman looked back and forth between them, a little concerned, before nodding. “Sure. I’ll be right back.”

“Where I choose to take my vacation is none of your concern, Zane.”

“It is when no one is willing to tell you how risky and stupid it is.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Really? How much do you know about my plans, exactly?”

“I know you’re going hiking alone in Big Bend. That’s enough.”

Caroline clenched her fists by her legs and forced herself to breathe in through her mouth and out through her nose. She would not get in a screaming match with Zane Wales in the middle of a bar.

Unable to look at him without giving him the full force of her opinion—loudly—she surveyed the bar. Just about everyone was watching them, waiting for the fireworks. It wouldn’t be the first time they’d provided a colorful show. But it had been a long time.

“You don’t know anything about my plans, Wales. You don’t know anything about my life. Remember?”

“You say that like me getting out of your life wasn’t the best thing for you.”

She just stared at him. “Seriously?”

“And regardless, this plan of yours—” he said the phrase with such derision her eyes narrowed and she felt her temper rising to a boiling point “—is ridiculous. You can’t do it.”

Oh. No. He. Didn’t.

The waitress brought them both their checks and Caroline counted it one of her greatest accomplishments that she didn’t say anything at all. She just got out a twenty-dollar bill, threw it down on the table and stood, not caring that she was tipping the waitress almost as much as the bill itself.

She felt every eye on her as she turned and walked out the door. She didn’t care and definitely wasn’t afraid to go back to her house now. She was too damn pissed.

She made it to her truck before she heard him.

“You can’t seriously be going on this trip.”

She didn’t turn around. “You know what, Zane? You don’t know anything about it.”

“I know it’s dangerous.”

Now that they didn’t have an audience, she didn’t even try to keep her volume in check. “No, you’re making a snap judgment that it’s dangerous because you don’t know all the facts.”

“Then tell me all the facts.”

Now she turned around. “I’m not stupid. And believe me, I have no desire to put myself at risk. I have taken precautions to make myself as safe as possible.”

What was more, she needed this. Had talked extensively to Grace Parker about this time by herself. The psychiatrist had agreed that, with the right precautions for her personal safety, it was a good idea.

She would’ve told Zane all of this already if he’d been around. If he’d been a part of her life. But he hadn’t been. So by damn, he did not get to have a say in her decisions.

“You know what? Just forget it.” She spun back toward her truck.

“Hey, I’m not done talking to you.”

“I don’t give a damn if you’re done with me or not. Have you thought of that? Maybe I’m done with you this time.”

He strode directly to her. “What do you mean, this time?”

His nearness didn’t bother her. Zane’s nearness had never bothered her. This entire shouting match—so much like old times—was so freeing in a lot of ways.

“You bailed on me eighteen months ago, Zane. You don’t get to have a say in anything I do anymore.”

His volume rose with hers. “I didn’t bail on you. I knew me being around you would be a constant reminder of the worst day of your entire life. So I tried to do the noble thing and get out of your way.”

“Noble?” She all but spat the word, poking him in the chest. “You were too much of a coward to fight for us, so you ran.”

“This discussion is not about the last year and a half. This discussion is about your asinine plan to go hiking for a week by yourself.”

“Why do you think you get to have a say in what I do, Zane?”

She got right up in his face and shouted the words.

God, it felt so good to yell. To have someone yell back. To not have someone treat her with kid gloves like she was going to break any minute.

“You don’t, Zane,” she continued, poking him in the chest with her finger again as she said it.

His eyes flared as he wrapped his hand around her finger against his chest.

And then, before either of them realized what was happening, he yanked her to him and kissed her.

Caroline had been kissed since the rape. She’d even had sex with a couple guys since. But they hadn’t been Zane. Hadn’t been who, deep inside, she truly wanted.

And it sure as hell hadn’t been a kiss like this.

Zane’s lips were like coming home. His arms banded around her waist and hers slid up his chest and around his neck.

That hair. Thick and brown. She thought of how many times she’d flicked off his hat and ran her fingers all the way through it as he kissed her. Exactly like she was doing now.

He devoured her mouth and she couldn’t get enough of it, pulling him closer with fists full of his hair, moaning as his fingers bit into her hips in his urgency to get her closer.

He backed her up until she was against her truck, then grabbed her by the hips and hoisted her up to the engine’s hood. Now she could wrap both her arms and her legs around him.

Passion simmered through her blood as his lips nipped down her jaw to her neck. Not gentle, not timid. Just Zane. Fierce and passionate, the way lovemaking had always been for them. She moaned as one of his hands came up and fisted into her hair, holding her so he had better access to what he wanted.

Her.

And she couldn’t get enough of it.

Dimly she was aware that they were still in the parking lot of the Silver Eagle. That any minute her colleagues, law enforcement officers who generally tended to frown on sex in public places, were going to make their way out.

This needed to be taken back to her place. Or his. Or a hotel room.

Stat.