Saving Liberty (Kissing #6) by Helena Newbury

Now, in the flesh, I could see the change in her. That energy I liked so much had gone, the light cruelly extinguished. She looked more fragile. And she didn’t light up the room, anymore. She hid, even when you were looking right at her.
    That didn’t change her beauty but it changed how I reacted to it. Before, she’d been so damn pretty it had hurt. That face, that body... they brought out an animal need in me to grab her and kiss her harder than I’d ever kissed anyone, tear that white blouse off her button by button and then start working my way all the way up those long legs with my lips. But I liked her way too much to make her a one night stand and I couldn’t offer anything else... not anymore. So it had hurt, knowing that I could never have her.
    Now, though, it was different. Now, it was goddamn heartbreaking. The fear was owning her, draining the life from her and making her shy away from everyone. I hadn’t kidded myself she could be mine... but the way she was spiraling downward, she wasn’t going to get to be happy with anyone, even the asshole oil tycoon I’d imagined her with.
    It wasn’t fair. She’d done nothing wrong. She hadn’t asked to be born into this life and these risks.
    I knew I was staring at her, losing myself in those soft green eyes. But I couldn’t stop. I figured this was probably the last time I’d ever see her and part of me wanted to just selfishly drink in as much of her as I could.
    Meanwhile, she was staring right back at me. I could feel her fear easing, like when you pet a nervous animal and it slowly stills. Except I wasn’t touching her. I wasn’t doing a damn thing except being near her. And the longer we looked at each other, the more I could feel a different kind of tension building. Part of me wanted to warn her off, to tell her that she had no idea what she was getting into.
    Part of me just wanted to dive across that seat, push her back on the upholstery and own her.
    “How did you find me, anyway?” I asked. “How’d you know I’d be here?”
    She swallowed. “I didn’t. The agents asked at your apartment building. Then we went around the bars people suggested. This is the fourth we’ve tried.”
    She must have been cruising around the neighborhood for a full hour, all while scared out of her mind. However strong of a hold the fear had on her, she wasn’t giving up easily. “All just to say thank you?” I asked, deliberately gruff.
    “No. Not just to say thank you.” She looked right into my eyes and something passed between us. We both knew, in that second. We glimpsed the future: tangled sheets and clothes torn off, kisses so deep and goddamn desperate you don’t want to stop to come up for air. It was like looking down into a ravine. The sensible thing would be to turn around and walk away from the edge; the sensible thing would have been to get out of the car.
    Neither of us moved. I’ve never felt so helplessly drawn to anyone my entire life. I watched as she finally dropped her gaze, the car so quiet I could hear every breath she took, and I knew she felt the exact same way.
    “I need protection,” she said. And lifted her gaze to see my reaction.
    She was right. Unlike all those assholes I’d been guarding, she actually did need someone. Not just from the physical danger, although that was definitely true. From the fear. She was sinking fast into a blackness I’d seen claim too many good people—a blackness that claimed me, in a different way. She didn’t just need safety, she needed protection and she needed it on a deep, base level, the only level that could counteract the fear.
    I understood that, because my need to protect her was just as basic, just as primal. And I knew that I couldn’t.
    I could look after assholes in suits all day long because I didn’t care about them. I’d do my job, even take a bullet for them if I had to, but I didn’t feel anything for them. That was the way it had to be. I’d made that decision a