He caught her hand, holding it tightly in his much larger one. It was a fascinating contrast, her tiny bone structure compared to his much larger frame. She had a delicateness to her that fired his protective instincts. Like if he didn’t handle her with infinite care, he could break her—hurt her—and he’d die before ever causing her a moment’s pain.
And yet that was precisely what he was doing by his boneheadedness. He was hurting her. Just not physically. A woman would only put herself out there so much before she gave up, and damn it, he didn’t want her to give up on him. He had to get his shit together and man up and quit acting like a moron who’d never been with a woman.
“I don’t pretend to understand what you could possibly see in me,” he said hoarsely. “I can’t even wrap my head around it. God only knows I have nothing to offer you.”
“I only want one thing, Swanny,” she said gently. “You. Just you.”
“You make it sound so simple.”
She shrugged. “It is. I mean, it can be as simple or as difficult as we make it. I don’t know how to make you understand that my feelings are sincere. I know you don’t trust me yet. But I do trust you.”
“I’ve done nothing to deserve it or you,” he said bluntly. “I’ve been a complete asshole and I’m sorry, Eden. You have no idea how sorry I am to have hurt you twice now. You deserve so much more than me.”
Her lips quivered into a faint smile. “You’re repeating yourself, Swanny. You keep saying the same things. Stop analyzing why and figure out if you want me as much as I want you. That’s the only real issue here. Everything else can be worked around.”
“Hell yes, I want you,” he bit out. “I can’t think for wanting you. You’ve consumed my thoughts since the very first time I saw you walk into that hotel room where we met.”
Her smile broadened and delight formed in her eyes. “Okay, now we’re getting somewhere. Finally!”
He sighed. “I’m not normally such an idiot. I’m not stupid. Except when it comes to you, apparently. But you have this effect on me that I can’t even explain. I keep asking myself, why me? What does a woman like you possibly see in me?”
She leaned forward and cupped a hand to his scarred cheek, lightly caressing the ridges and the puckered skin. “You keep saying ‘a woman like me,’ but turn that around for a minute. Don’t you think I’m asking myself what a man like you could possibly see in me? You’re a hero. You’re a survivor. You help people for a living. You put your life on the line for others, and that takes a very special person to be that selfless. What could you possibly want with a woman who makes her living selling her looks and her body? You’re paid to save lives, and I’m paid to look pretty and sell a product. So who’s the better person here?”
The way she very matter-of-factly levied her opinion of him blew his mind. Whether he agreed with her assessment or not, it was evident that she was absolutely sincere in her thoughts and her analysis of him and his character. He felt like a complete fraud. Because he felt that what she was seeing or what she thought she saw was not the real Swanny.
Whatever lens she viewed him through was faulty. Was she merely temporarily infatuated with him? Perhaps intrigued by him? And what would happen when she realized that he wasn’t all she seemed to think he was?
He’d prefer never to become involved with her rather than to become emotionally and physically involved with her only to see the way she viewed him change and to see the light dim in her gaze when she looked at him and really saw him for what he was. Flawed. Far from perfect. Still dealing with the demons of his past and the shame over his weakness during his captivity and how very close he came to giving up. The physical scars were certainly no cakewalk, but worse were the scars no one could see. The ones he could feel, ones that would always be there inside him, a stain on his soul.
And yet she sat there, mere inches away, looking earnestly at him as she asked what a man like him would see in her. Her. He couldn’t even wrap his brain around that kind of question. She deserved so much more than what he could give her. She deserved a man who didn’t come with the baggage he carried.
When he still hadn’t answered her question—how could he?—she straightened slightly and gazed steadily at him, her lips firming with . . . resolve? And yet her voice was silky soft, as sweet as the rest of her and so fucking beautiful that it hurt to look at her, to listen to the musical tones of her voice.
“I’m not asking for anything you can’t or don’t want to give me, Swanny. And if you don’t want this, if I’m completely off base here, then just tell me and I swear to you I’ll never mention it again. I’ll back off and all I’ll be is a job to you and I’ll room with Skylar from now on. All I want is for you to give me—us—a chance. To just go with the flow and see where this—whatever this is between us—takes us. But the ball is in your court now. I can’t make you want me. I wouldn’t want to make you feel anything you didn’t on your own. That’s not ever the reason I want a man to be with me, because I pressured him for something he didn’t willingly give me on his own.”