For Her Protection(47)

He paused and she recognized the nervous jerk of his chin. He had something more to say.

“Joyce and I are getting married.”

The pain turned knife sharp, cutting deep enough to stop her from breathing. This was the betrayal she couldn’t cope with, the one that lost her a cousin. “It’s been three months,” she whispered.

“Don’t be a bitch about this, Charlize. Rejection sucks, I get that.”

She shook her head. “No you don’t. You don’t get it at all.” Her chest tightened the way it had two nights before but she ignored the added pain. “I’m not upset because you left me. I’m upset because you spent eight years forcing me to conform to the person you wanted me to be. You tried to make yourself the only thing I had.” Her chest squeezed and she jabbed his shoulder with her finger. “You did all that and then you left me for my cousin.”

Simon’s face flooded pink and he closed in on her. Such moves used to scare her—not anymore. She held her ground.

“Are you kidding? If I tried to make myself number one with you, I sure as hell failed. I never came first with you—you couldn’t agree to a wedding date, you didn’t want to have kids.”

The rage she’d been holding back came spurting out. “I never said I didn’t want kids. I do want children. I just didn’t want to have them while I was studying or starting my career.”

“That’s right, your precious studies. I’m a fucking lawyer, you didn’t need to work.”

Those words, the ones she’d heard from him and everyone else, over and over, seemed to echo louder than all the rest. She ran the back of her hand across her dampening forehead. “It was never about needing to work and that’s what you never understood. As far as I’m concerned you and Joyce are perfect for each other. She’d fucking love not to work.”

She barged around him for the door. A woman stood in the way, a hand pressed to her belly, brown eyes wide. A lump rose in Charlize’s throat and she stumbled back. Joyce stepped in. She’d heard, obviously, judging by her stiff movements. No one had said it out loud but no one had been surprised when Joyce had scored herself a lawyer by any means necessary. Uncle Steve’s daughter through and through.

“Charlize, I’m sorry if you’re still upset about how everything happened, but Simon and I are engaged and you’re going to have to get used to it.” Joyce moved to Simon’s side, her blond locks shifting over her shoulders. He put his arm around her waist. “I thought you’d have moved on by now.”

“I have moved on. But continuing with my life doesn’t mean I’ve forgotten my cousin fucking my former fiancé.”

Joyce slumped against Simon, eyes shiny. There’d been a time when they’d been close. Not as close as Charlize was with Alicia, but close. It helped to see that maybe on some level, Joyce felt bad.

“You don’t sound like someone who’s moved on,” Simon snarled.

Joyce looked from Simon to Charlize, mirroring his skepticism in the rise of her forehead. Charlize’s shoulders hunched. They both thought she was lying. But one thing was for sure—only one man had any claim on her now.



Connor strode through the house, having been directed by Aunt Bess on where to find Charlize. Murmurs hummed down a hallway and he approached the sound.

“I’m seeing someone.” Charlize’s clear voice reached him.

Damn right. A smile tugged his lips. She was his woman. Good thing she’d started coming around. Even better she was telling family about him.

“If you say so.”

Connor stiffened. A snide male tone was not what he’d expected to hear. The meaning of her words slipped from the boast he’d assumed to a defense of some kind. He stepped into the doorway, his gaze taking in the couple facing Charlize.

Her back faced him, straight and unyielding, softened only by the inky black waves. He draped his arm across her shoulders. She twitched for a moment before he tugged her against him.

“There you are, baby.” Connor’s voice filled the room.

Charlize relaxed into him and her hand gripped the back of his shirt where it tucked into his waistband. He studied the man, the way his gaze flicked from him to Charlize, his neck coloring, lips thinning. Connor squeezed his fist, resisting the temptation to simply knock the fucker out for daring to look at his woman as if he had some claim on her. For daring to make her uncomfortable.

She didn’t introduce him, just looked up at him and smiled. Smiled only for him. “Let’s go find Aunt Bess,” Charlize said.

They walked out of the bathroom. Connor caught a look at the silent blond, her lips pursed as if she wanted to say something, but she glanced at the man beside her and her lips smoothed.