Protector by Catherine Mann Page B

He’d been so thoughtful to stay with her at the hospital, so kind to drive when she’d been too emotional to steady her thoughts. Was it all just because he worked on the ship? Did he remain with her to stay in the family’s good graces? It surprised her to realize how much she resisted that idea, but she would be foolish not to take that into account. Still, something drew her to the blackjack dealer who seemed so competent. So… hot.
    And bottom line, she’d had the day from hell.
    “Not yet. I’m not ready.” She unsnapped her seat belt and flung herself from the car, twirling in the abandoned lot, waves foaming lap after lap against the rocky beach. “Let’s walk, Mr. Charles Tomas.”
    She spun away without waiting for his answer and scrambled down the stony embankment to the narrow shoreline, grabbing hold of an olive tree on her way, branches rustling, seeming to whisper caution. Would he leave her to walk alone? Unable to bear the thought of another rejection so hot on the heels of her father’s, she sprinted into the gritty wind, embracing the friction of sand against her skin.
    The Maserati silenced, and she heard Chuck’s steady progress until he eased beside her with quiet grace. Hands stuffed in the pockets of his black work pants, he kept pace, his shoulder close, but not brushing hers. But he might as well have. She could feel him near her all the same.
    Comfort— distraction— waited a few inches away. Did she dare take it? She certainly couldn’t imagine hurting worse than she already did.
    “Myfather wants me to go back to Dallas first thing in the morning.” She punted a small rock, weaving her way along smooth, worn stones, broken in places by the determination of many generations of weeds coming up through them, a testament to the stubborn.
    Ache and anger twined as she wove around a small boulder, past a tide pool. After her father had sent her away that last time, after college, she’d vowed never to set herself up for the rejection again. She was a grown woman, damn it.
    “Maybe you
should
leave.” Charles nudged the small rock farther along with a brush of his foot.
    So much for him offering her consolation. Jolynn snatched the rock and flung it into the sea, before spinning to face Charles. “I was considering going home, but now? Who knows? I go where I choose, when I choose. Maybe you don’t know it, but I’m an overindulged only child. Like my father, I don’t do well with the word
no
.”
    She studied his brown eyes, searching for some indication that he might be different, a man to trust. His hands clenched visibly in his pockets. Silently, he tipped his head from side to side, working away a kink in a gesture she was beginning to recognize as habit.
    “Why doesn’t he want me in his life?” Her voice sounded pathetic, even to her own ears, and she hated herself for the weakness.
    Chuck blinked, unveiling eyes more guarded than when they were closed. “Anyone who would send you away is a fool and doesn’t deserve you. Go back where you belong, Jolynn.”
    Could she have heard him right? Was he somehow as tempted as she was? Staring back, she savored the edge of danger. Maybe she was her father’s daughter after all. “Whatif I already am where I belong? Could be it’s time to quit running.”
    “And if running keeps you safe?” His hand lifted, jerky, as if weights tried to tug him back until it steadied just beside her face. He brushed her cheek lightly.
    His hands were scarred and calloused. Hands that had grabbed hold of life up close.
    His touch soothed, healed— excited. He cupped her cheek and she swayed toward him. She didn’t even bother trying to resist. She wanted this. Wanted to find out if he could deliver on the promise in his molten dark eyes, in his surprisingly gentle touch. Her whole body ached to feel him closer.
    The scent of his soap and a hint of perspiration from the warm night mingled on the salty breeze with each breath that seemed to