Nowhere to Hide(19)

“Is that hurting you?”

Startled, her hand dropped away. For a moment, she caught him not wearing his game face. Instead, she saw concern in his eyes. For her.

“No, I’m fine,” she said with embarrassment, feeling her face heat up. She stared straight ahead, tensing, afraid of what he might say. She couldn’t link his compassionate nature with his being a man. Nearly every other man who’d seen that scar had shown disgust, or gave her a look that that spoke volumes about how it messed up her face.

Truth be known, Lia had never given much thought to her looks, even though her mother, Susan, had always said she was beautiful. Didn’t every mother think her child was beautiful?

Cav held out his arm toward her. “I’ve got you beat by a mile on that score,” he said, giving her an amused look.

Lia stared at his hard, muscled arm, so close to hers. Her fingers itched to slide along his darkly bronzed flesh and feel that black hair sprinkled across his forearm. It was tempting. She curved her fingers into her palms, keeping them on her lap.

“Yes, you do,” she whispered.

Cav put his hand on the wheel once more. He’d recognized the fear in her gray eyes when he mentioned her scar, and she’d actually yanked her fingers away from it, as if she’d been burned. Now, he knew how sensitive she was about it, and he wanted to calm her down. He actually felt a need to hold this woman in his arms, a reaction he’d never had before on the job.

In truth, his heart had been engaged from the moment he’d seen her standing so uncertainly in the doorway of the boardroom. She looked like a deer ready to run pursued by a nearby predator.

Would he want to have great sex with her? Absolutely. But this other feeling of personally wanting to protect her was very uncommon in his experience. It actually reminded him of the feeling he often had around children. For him, children always needed to be protected. Hell, he knew that better than most.

This wasn’t the first time he’d worked to protect a female, but it was always all business. He’d never wanted to ask them personal questions or get to know them on a one-to-one basis. On the other hand, with Lia, he wanted to bombard her with hundreds of questions.

He was sorry he’d upset her about her scar. He could see it in her sudden stiffness, the way she sat up in the seat, her hands fisted in her lap when he’d asked her if that scar was hurting her. The woman had suffered enough trauma without him stirring up whatever had created that scar on her face.

“Aren’t you going to ask me how I got all my scars?” He kept his voice light and teasing, adding a slight curve to his mouth. Instantly, Cav saw Lia relax. She leaned back in the seat, her fists uncurling.

“Did you get them as an operator?”

“Yes, I did. I joined the SEALs at eighteen and stayed until I was twenty-five. You get a lot of nicks and scratches doing that kind of boots-on-the-ground work.” He glanced at her profile through the rear view mirror. Those sweet lips of hers had softened, and he sensed she was heaving a huge sigh of relief. Obviously, if he talked about himself, she was comfortable with that.

“I’ve heard about you guys, but I never met one while I was in the military,” she admitted.

“What branch were you in?” Cav asked, and saw her tighten up a little. As an operator, he knew body language. It was the nonverbal language of a human being—and was used sixty percent, versus the forty percent verbal language. He’d been trained to observe even the most minute body changes and could read them with great accuracy. He had her file, read it and memorized it. Cav knew the answer to the question, but he needed to establish some connection and trust with Lia. Her military file had a large, redacted section, so he had no way of knowing what that was about. And it was important he knew why that part was hidden from the world.

“I was in the Army. Motor pool.”

“Officer or enlisted?” She went rigid again. Why? He wondered if she’d been in combat, maybe a PTSD survivor. The questions he had for her were on a long, long list.

“Enlisted. I was a sergeant, an E-4.”

Now, even her voice was going tense. Lia usually had a mellow voice, a soothing alto, and it relaxed him when she spoke.

“I was an E-5 when I got out, Petty Officer, second class,” he offered.

Her mouth relaxed, giving him another clue. Cav wasn’t the greatest communicator, but hell, in his business, being the quiet type was a decided asset. But with Lia, he was just the opposite. He could see that she didn’t want to talk about herself just yet. If he opened up about himself, she became at ease once more. What the hell was she hiding?

“Did you like being a SEAL?” she wondered aloud, turning to him.