The peace she felt hadn’t lessened, and however it came about, she was grateful for it.
It was disconcerting that she felt so close to him now, though. At times, she thought he felt the same way, but that was ridiculous, right? And yet, she couldn’t stop feeling like they’d grown so much closer while she told him her story.
But her stupid heart—not to mention, her hormones—didn’t understand that that didn’t mean he felt the same way about her as she was coming to for him.
She could fall for him. Hell, maybe she already was. And that scared the shit out of her. Not because she was worried history was repeating itself or he’d turn into another Shawn, but because she knew he couldn’t possibly feel the same way about her.
How could he? He didn’t know her that well, and what he did know wasn’t exactly flattering. Besides, didn’t motorcycle clubs always have hot women hanging around, more than willing to jump into a biker’s bed? Why would he want her when he could walk back into the main room, snap his fingers, and be surrounded by women ready to fight it out for a spot in his bed?
It almost made her wish she could worry about him turning into her ex. If she could find some caution that way, maybe she could protect her heart. As it was, it was going to hurt like hell when it was time to leave. Just the thought made her heart ache. How would she feel after she’d been here even longer?
But he wasn’t anything like the bastard she was running from. She knew that with bone deep certainty. She trusted him already, had nearly from the start, and despite the fact that he did illegal shit for a living, she knew where it counted, he was a good man.
Just like how an investment banker like Shawn could be the spawn of Satan and beat on women, a biker who did illegal shit like run guns or drugs could still have a heart of gold.
“You okay in there, Ana?”
Jumping at Bolt’s voice, she slapped a hand over her suddenly racing heart. “Yeah, I’ll be out in a sec.”
Wincing when her voice came out shaky, she blew out a breath and gave herself one last once over in the mirror. As much as she longed to change clothes, she couldn’t. Her spare set was still in his room, so unless she wanted to put her dirty clothes back on and then field questions about why she had, she needed to suck it up and quit being so ridiculous.
He probably wasn’t going to pay any attention to her in his clothes, anyway.
Before she could chicken out, she opened the door and turned the bathroom light off at the same time. Eyebrows raising when she realized the lights in the bedroom were also off, relief washed over her as she hesitated, letting her eyes adjust to the darkness.
Bolt was already in bed, and she swallowed hard as she realized again that she’d have to climb in with him. Maybe she could sleep in the recliner. She could put his clothes away for him, it would be the least she could do to repay him for everything…
“Get in bed, il mio cuore. I promise I won’t bite.”
Shivering at his huskily spoken Italian words—that she still didn’t know the meaning of—she found herself wishing he’d tell her the opposite was true and he would bite. She’d probably haul ass like her tail was on fire in her haste to get to the bed.
Nearly snorting at her thoughts, she walked over and gingerly sat down. As she laid back and pulled the sheet up, she couldn’t help thinking this should freak her out much more than it was. How if he were any other man, she never would have even contemplated sleeping in the same bed.
But he wasn’t any other man, and instead of being scared shitless, she listened to him getting comfortable on the bed next to her and nearly drowned under a rush of desire.
Instead of making sure her gun was within arm’s reach, she was imagining what it would feel like if he reached over and pulled her into him.
What it would feel like if he put his mouth against hers and slid his tongue past her lips as his hands traced down her body.
Shit. She wasn’t going to get any sleep if she couldn’t stop thinking about him and all the delicious things she wished he’d do to her.
“Bolt?” she whispered, knowing she should leave him alone, but desperately needing a distraction—even if it came from the very reason she needed one to begin with.
“Yeah?”
“What’s your real name?”
He snorted. “I’m not sleepy enough to tell you that just yet, baby.”
She smiled into the darkness at the endearment. “Still don’t trust me enough to tell me, huh?”
“I already trust you, Ana. Got nothin’ to do with that.”
“You already trust me? Really?” she asked, surprised.
“Really.”
Pursing her lips, she decided to test that theory. “What you do when you’re not saving helpless women?”
“You’re not helpless. He caught you by surprise, is all. But to answer your question, all sorts of shit. I just got back from making sure a shipment of guns went off without a hitch, for example.”
Her eyebrows rose. She hadn’t expected him to actually tell her anything, but maybe, like she’d been testing whether he really trusted her, he was testing her too, with the truth—maybe to see how she reacted to the information.
She’d been determined to not react badly if he told her some of his truths, but to her surprise, what he told her didn’t freak her out. It absolutely should have. She’d grown up with the proverbial silver spoon in her
