flashed into his eyes at the mention of his brother’s name. But then his face went hard again. He grabbed onto her finger, held it away from him, but his voice remained calm. ‘You don’t want to be around me right now. I’m not feeling civilised.’
She heard the menace in his words and pulled her finger free. She didn’t know this man at all. He looked dangerous. He was breathing heavily as if he’d been running, the firm bronzed skin of his chest glistened with sweat, but his eyes were so remote it was frightening.
She took a step back. ‘What happened by the pool? Why was it so hard for you to take the gift?’
Suddenly, she wanted desperately to know, to understand. Where was the man she’d come to care for?
‘Just because we’ve shared a few hot kisses…’ he gave her a slow, deliberate once-over ‘…just because I’d like to see you naked, doesn’t mean you’re my shrink.’
He was trying to upset her. With a flash of insight she saw that he wanted her to run. ‘Why are you being deliberately cruel? It’s not like you.’
‘You don’t know what I’m like.’
Something swirled into his eyes as he turned away. Unhappiness? Pain? Was he hurting, too?
‘Monroe, what is it?’ She walked up behind him. He stood in front of the window, the muscles of his back and shoulders rigid.
‘I’m warning you, Jessie. You need to get out of here.’
He didn’t look round. She studied the thin white scars that marred the smooth, bronzed skin. Reaching up, she hesitated a moment and then stroked her fingers down his spine.
He shot round. ‘Don’t touch me.’
She could see his eyes clearly now. Desperation and confusion burned in the blue depths.
‘Tell me. What is it? Why was it so hard for you to take Linc’s present?’
‘I didn’t know how.’ He shouted the words, fisted his hands in frustration and thrust them into his pockets. ‘I’ve never been given a birthday gift before in my whole damn life.’
CHAPTER TEN
ANGER at himself churned like molten lava in Monroe’s gut. Anger and a desire that he was struggling real hard to ignore.
He’d been raw, ragged with emotions he’d never felt before ever since Linc had handed him the birthday gift two hours ago. And guilt was right slam-bang at the top of the list.
He’d played them all, like an orchestra. He’d done a few odd jobs, befriended the little girl and managed to con them all into thinking he was a good guy—Emmy, Linc, Ali and most of all, Jessie.
Since he’d got out of prison, Monroe’s life had been nomadic. It was the way he liked it. Women had come and gone, friendships had been shallow and fleeting. He didn’t want it to be any different.
But when Linc had held the present out to him, the sparkly wrapping paper glinting in the sunshine, all those foolish old feelings of wanting to have a place to belong had come flooding back. He’d realised in a rush that they’d all accepted him into their home, into their hearts. The yearning that had gripped him at the thought, the desperate need to be accepted, had stunned him. But worse had been the knowledge that he could never have a place here.
Because he wasn’t a good guy, not really.
He was a user. He used people and moved on. That way he didn’t have to be bothered by anyone but himself.
He’d taken Linc’s gift in a daze of confusion and pain. He’d stormed back to the apartment, turned up the stereo to blast level and painted like a madman. But the storm of emotions had continued to churn inside him. And when Jessie had shown up, the only thing he could think was he had to make her run before he took something he could never give back.
She was beautiful, fresh, impulsive and honest. No wonder he wanted her so badly; she was all the things he wasn’t.
Looking down at her, seeing the concern in her eyes as she absorbed what he’d said about the present, he wanted to take her so badly, claim her so badly, it hurt.
‘Why did you never have a birthday gift before?’ she asked gently.
He could hear the compassion and it crucified him. He shrugged. ‘I don’t live like that. All neat and pretty.’
He turned, stared blankly out the window at the gathering dusk, the darkening red of sunset mirroring his own shadowed thoughts. He couldn’t look at her and tell her the truth. ‘I do what I want, when I want. I don’t have a family. I don’t need one. Nobody’s going to tie me down. That’s the way I like it.’
Jessie could hear the defiance, the desperation in his words. She had been right, was all she could think. He was lonely and he was scared.
No wonder he hadn’t been able to take Linc’s present. It had meant something to him he didn’t understand. It meant love and trust and affection. All things he’d spent most of his life without. He was always so sure of himself, so cocky. But beneath that was a good, caring man who needed things that he seemed determined to deny himself.
Jessie had a huge well of love inside her that she wanted to give to someone. And here was a man who needed it. She wouldn’t ask herself why Monroe denied love, denied family. It was enough for now to know he needed her and she needed him.
She’d been falling in love all along—and now she knew why.
He was the one she’d been waiting for. He was everything she’d ever wanted, standing there before her. So handsome, so vulnerable and so confused. Taking the next step now was all that mattered. The rest of it would sort itself out in time.
‘Everybody needs family, Monroe,’ she said softly.
He swung around, his eyes fixed on hers. ‘Damn it. Don’t you get it? I used you. I saw something I wanted, so I went after it.’ His voice was rough with self-loathing. ‘You heard what I said when I jumped you at the party. I’ve been planning this all along. Getting you to like me. Getting you to trust me. It was all just a damn game so I could get you into bed.’
She laughed, the mix of arousal and excitement making her light-headed. He wanted her. ‘If that was the plan, you seem to be mucking it up a bit now.’
‘What?’ His mouth dropped open.
She stepped forward, drew her hands up his chest, wrapped her fingers around his neck. He smelt wonderful—linseed oil, turpentine and the musky smell of man. He felt even better. The hard, rigid muscles of his chest quivered against her breasts, as if he were a racehorse, ready to leap out of a starting gate. She had the power. For the first time, she was the one in control.
‘You know, Monroe.’ Her voice came out on a soft purr; she heard him swallow. ‘It was really nice of you to do all the work, up to this point.’ She caressed the back of his neck, threading her fingers through the soft hair of his nape.
He shuddered.
‘But it looks like I’m going to have to take over now,’she said.
