Devil You Know(63)

I look down at her as she stares out the back window at Rocco. “Love that has never been put to use. Strength, and compassion.”

Jane ducks her head to hide her glassy eyes, but I saw it. I know. My hand finds her chin, and I coax her face up to me. “Don’t hide your emotions, Jane. They’re a part of who you are, and if people can’t handle that then fuck them. They don’t deserve you in their life if they’re going to be that insensitive.”

She smiles, and renders me hopeless. “Again, Malice. You need to take your own advice.”

I chuckle, and kiss her on the forehead. She can tell me how it is every day, and I’ll never tire of it. Anybody else, and I would have walked out of the room. Anybody else, and I would have shot them down.

But not Jane.

“Can I ask you something?” she says.

“Anything.”

“Why is it you can sleep with me, but you can’t talk to me? I would have thought being comfortable with one would have gone with the other.”

Ground, swallow me now.

She’s making a regular Johnny-on-the-spot of me today. “I worry that if you get too close to me you’ll leave, and never look back. I’m kind of worried about what you’ll say when you get past the top layer—see the real me.” My heart hammers in my chest, but I push through the anxiety and get the words out anyway. “You mean so much to me, Jane, that if you left, I fear it’d be the thing that finally ruins me.”

She twitches a smile, and strokes her gentle fingers along my jaw. “How do you think I felt the first time you saw me? Don’t you think I was ashamed that you’d seen me at my worst?”

“I don’t want to think about that night again.” I bring my hands to my face, and try to scrub the memory away.

She startles me by placing her arms around my waist, and coaxing me to face her. “I appreciate the fact it hurts you to think about it, Malice. But please, when you think about me, don’t think of that scared woman; think of me as who I am now.” She shrugs. “I want you to give me a chance to return the favor.”

My gaze fixes to a point over her head while I fight the urge to push her away, shut her out, and avoid crossing this fine line we’re dancing on. She’s a temptress, coaxing me over to her side of the argument, while I’m determined that my way has worked for this long, and it can’t be faulted. I need this change. I need to let her in.

“Tell me what you’re thinking,” she urges.

“I’m thinking . . .” I swallow—hard. “I’m thinking about how badly I’ve wanted to show you the world, and make you my girl since I took you away from that fucking house. I’m thinking about how perfect it would be to wake up next to you every day, and know you’ll always be there. But I’m also thinking I can’t bear to see another second of pain cross your face—especially if I’ve put it there. I’m thinking that if I tell you everything, and I mean everything, all I’ll see is pain. I’m certain, Jane, that you’ll never see me the same way, and I can’t bear to lose the way you look at me now.”

Her forehead thumps into my chest, and she sighs. “You’re so damn frustrating, you know that?”

I chuckle.

“For the love of God, Malice, take the fucking leap, and trust.” She pulls back, and looks deep into my eyes. It hurts. “If I go, it was never meant to be. If I stay, then you have your answer.”

“What is it that you want?” I ask, tracing the shell of her ear with a finger.

“To be relaxed, and happy,” she answers. “To live a life without the misery I grew accustomed to, and believe it or not, you give me that. So I guess you could say, I want you.”

“Why do I deserve you?” I murmur.

“I ask myself the same thing.”

“I’ve never been this open with anyone, ever,” I confess.

She smiles, and rubs her hands over my chest and shoulders. “I’ve never wanted to be with someone like I do with you.”

The locks on my heart disengage, and this tiny woman before me crashes through my barriers with the strength of a fucking hydraulic ram. My resolve shatters, and I can’t hide from her any more. I can’t keep her away from the side of me that wants to love and cherish her until we’re old and gray.

Before I register how we got there, she’s in my arms, her legs wrapped around my waist, and I’m heading for my room. Her mouth is warm, and fucking divine to taste. She groans as I break our kiss, and place her on the bed. I stare at her, sitting there, so fucking perfect. Made for me. What would life have been like if I’d met her ten years ago? Would I have known what I had back then, or would I have wasted her, and missed out on this?