River Wolf(34)

“True.” He opened a bottle of white wine and poured two glasses, each half-full. Yes, definitely someone used to getting his way. Had he pushed away all those who cared? His loneliness remained palpable, even after the presence of his parents earlier.

“Why?”

When he crossed the room toward her, glasses of wine in hand, he prowled. If she were in some art house movie, she imagined the cut would have shown some great predator stalking through the jungle before returning to the man before her. The conjured image filled her mind’s eye—though she couldn’t quite decide whether he’d be a lion or other great cat. Maybe a bear. Though bears were dangerous when provoked, she didn’t imagine them stalking their prey.

“Why what?” he asked, holding the glass toward her. The mottled skin extended from his cheekbone to his hairline, though the puckering seemed smoother in some places than others. Had he been in some kind of accident? How deep had the hurt gone?

“Why are you so insistent I stay—and don’t say it’s because the doctor wants to talk to me.” She shook her head. “Your mother got all the details of Luc’s accident and treatment that I know. I’m a nobody. Just someone who was serving out her community service. There is nothing I can tell the doctor that she can’t or that Luc can’t fill her in on or for that matter she couldn’t simply get from his hospital records.” Their fingers brushed when she accepted the wine glass. The electric charge tingled over her skin, but it didn’t burn or pop this time. Thankfully.

“I didn’t lie earlier when I said Luc wanted you to still be here when he woke. So that’s part of the reason.”

Appreciating the honest answer, she met his gaze and nodded. “Part? So what’s the other part?”

“I want you to stay.” The response startled her. Heat coiled in her belly at the appreciation in his frank gaze. “Will you?”

Needing the wine, she took a swallow. Smooth, sweet and perfectly chilled it moistened her lips and quenched her suddenly parched throat. At least she could blame her stupidity on the wine. Cause I want to say yes. What the hell is it with this guy? He wasn’t her usual type. Success seemed to roll off him in waves and money didn’t appear to be remotely a problem. Yet, edginess gave him an almost lonely air—maybe Brett wasn’t a bad boy per se, but he wasn’t a white knight either.

“So you’re staying.” It wasn’t a question. Her protest died, however, when he glanced at her wine glass.

Hell. After another sip, she said, “Maybe.”

The low rasp of his chuckle slid across the surface of her skin. “You are a hard ass, aren’t you?”

“Sometimes you have to be.” Her mother raised her to be a polite, soft-spoken lady who never churned the water. Disappointing her had become something of a habit.

“I agree,” he said, then extended his hand to the sofas. “Would you like to sit here or on the patio?”

“Isn’t it still raining?”

“Yes.” He opened one of the double doors and twinkle lights activated around the patio roof. They were low, golden in color and cast a soft glow over the stone patio with an inset fire pit and more chairs. The soft patter of the rain played like music against the roof.

Accepting his offer, she stepped outside. “It’s beautiful.” More, it soothed her in a way she couldn’t express. “I almost wish we had a fire.”

“We can.” With a light press of his hand to her lower back, he urged her to take another step forward before striding out onto the porch.

“Oh, I didn’t mean you had to…”

At the fire pit, Brett set his wine glass down on a table and glanced at her. “You wanted a fire, I can make a fire. It’s not that big of a deal.” Yet, the way his pupils seemed a little larger and the faint gleam of sweat along his skin despite the chill told her otherwise.

“Does it bother you to have one?” The question escaped before she could swallow the nosiness.

Straightening, he met her gaze and held it. “Because of the burns?”

“Yeah. I can’t imagine those were pleasant, and I wouldn’t blame you if you didn’t like fire after going through something…well, what I presume is a fire.” Shut. Up. She bit her lower lip and sucked it between her teeth. “I’m sorry,” she said finally when he didn’t immediately answer. “I’m usually much better about minding my own business.”

“Fire bothers me. It shouldn’t, but it does. I refuse to let fear rule me, however, so if you would like a fire, I’ll build one.” He added a couple of logs to the pit. “As for being nosy…well, I started it.”