“The woman has no food,” he grumbled.
She had dangerous curves, curves that made his mouth water and all the blood in his body rush to his cock. There was no way she'd keep them if she continued to eat this crap. Scowling, he shut the door. Actually, she'd dropped a few pounds since her arrival. Why hadn't he noticed before? He turned to face Mick.
“I've got steaks at home. I'll go get them. Be right back.” But Mick didn't move out of the doorway to let him pass. Jonas grunted.
“What?”
Mick cocked an eyebrow. “I'm not the one with the problem. She's not a soldier.
Quit treating her like one.” He hesitated. “She's not Liza.” All the air rushed out of Jonas's lungs. He had to take several deep breaths before he could speak. “Believe me, I know that. And I'm not comparing her to Liza.
She doesn't have anything to do with this.”
He'd thought he loved Liza once, but once he accepted she'd never be his, that feeling had faded. Eventually he'd realized it wasn't Liza he wanted in particular, but a woman like her. Strong and fierce and independent. Yeah, he felt protective and possessive of Harper. Hell, he felt that way about most of the pack. It was just part of his nature. But he never counted on having a mate who couldn't match him in strength of will, if not physically.
Harper, lovely and appealing as she was, didn't have the fortitude to stand up to him. She didn't have the will to rein him in when he went way overprotective, and he knew he would. She would never be an equal partner the way Mick was.
He'd been in a nonstop struggle with his wolf side since she'd shown up. It wanted to claim her and protect her. It wanted to possess her, and not doing so just pissed it off. Jonas was struggling for control, and the wildness in him was winning.
Harper couldn't handle it, as clearly evidenced by her fleeing the room.
But even knowing that, knowing she couldn't take the wolf and she wasn't what he'd expected, he no longer had the willpower to walk away. She was his.
Eventually, she'd come to grips with what he was. Maybe. Hopefully.
Perhaps with the right kind of encouragement she'd grow into the kind of woman he needed at his side. Perhaps with time the damage done in the past to her self-esteem, her spirit would fade. He sincerely hoped so. He didn't want a doormat for a mate.
“Jonas?”
He shook his head. He knew Mick wanted to know what was on his mind, what kept holding him back, but he wasn't ready to discuss his fears. Sometimes he wanted Harper so badly he shook with the force of it, and admitting he was afraid she might never accept him, accept his wild side and be able to tame it was more than he was capable of yet. Just knowing how deeply his passion ran would probably scare her off.
“I'll be back in a few minutes,” he told Mick and then stepped out the back door.
They hadn't left. She stood frozen in the hall and listened in. So that was it.
Jonas might have wanted her, he couldn't hide the desire she sometimes saw lurking in his eyes, but he was in love with someone else. When he left by the kitchen door, she moved into the light. Mick turned around with a sigh.
“How much did you hear?”
“Enough.” The bottle of rum and her untouched glass were right where she'd left them. She walked over, turned to lean against the counter, and lifted it to her lips. “How long has he been in love with Liza?” For the first time she felt a bit of sympathy for Jonas. Liza was incredible.
Harper felt familial love for her and a hell of a lot of gratitude for Liza's having taken her in. She was strong and confident and outspoken. In short, everything Harper was not. But unfortunately for Jonas, anyone could see she was totally in love with Caleb and Zach. Harper swallowed the liquid, enjoyed the slight burn as it slid down her throat.
“That's gotta suck for him,” she went on softly.
“He's not in love with Liza.” Mick shook his head. “And I shouldn't be discussing it with you. Jonas needs to tell you what that's about.” He didn't have to. “I'm nothing like her.”
“No. You aren't. Why should you be? She grew up here. She was always loved.
Never abused.”
It was only years of practice that kept her face calm, kept her from flinching.
She didn't fool him for a minute.
“How bad, Harper?” he asked the question so softly, so gently with a voice thick with compassion, not pity, that she almost gave in to the instinct to rush over and cling to him. She was so tempted to steal a moment of time, a few minutes of comfort, and she knew he wouldn't deny her. “I saw the scars on your legs.” Tempted, but in the end she wasn't able to let her guard down so much. She let her chin drop to her chest, stared at the floor, and shook with years of repressed fear and anger and self-disgust. She was smart enough to know it wasn't her fault.
Not one of the many times her father had raised a hand against her had it been her fault. But it was damned hard to not hate herself for not getting out, for not saving herself and her brother all the big and small humiliations accumulated over a lifetime.
She looked up to meet his gaze. “It doesn't matter anymore. I'm free. Dane is free.”
And she would continue to rebuild herself bit by bit. She'd stood up to Jonas, hadn't she? She was getting braver about risking smart-ass retorts when he slung his subtle insults her way. She was under Liza's protection, and she was pretty sure even if she hadn't been, Jonas wouldn't have hurt her. For the first time in a very long time, she experienced a sense of empowerment.
The door opened before Mick could push her for any answers, and Jonas walked in with three reusable shopping bags filled to bulging. He must have run to his house and then packed like a maniac. She arched her eyebrows when without a word he started to unpack and fill her small freezer, fridge, and pantry.
“Are you planning to feed an army?”
