At Odds With the Heiress by Cat Schield Page B

“I didn’t want to disturb you.” As he spoke, he narrowed the distance between them. “Is your jaw still sore?”
    He’d moved within reach and before she could question the wisdom of her actions, Scarlett pressed herself against his strong body. She wrapped her arms around his waist and felt him tense. But when his hands touched her shoulders, it wasn’t to push her away but to gather her still closer.
    “Don’t worry,” he said. “You’re safe.”
    And for the first time in a long time, she knew she was. Letting someone take care of her wasn’t comfortable for Scarlett. She’d developed a deep and wide streak of distrust not long after reaching puberty. The older brother of one of her fellow actors had cornered her in a dressing room and stuck his tongue down her throat. Afterward he’d threatened to say she’d come on to him if she told anyone what had happened. She’d been twelve years old at the time and was just beginning to understand what it meant to be a woman.
    “I’m not always strong,” she told him, her voice muffled against his shoulder. “Usually I’m terrified that what I’m doing is completely wrong.”
    Logan stroked her hair. “You’ve sure fooled me.”
    “That was the idea.”
    * * *
    Logan drew Scarlett toward the couch. They sat together in the middle with little space between them. Scarlett snuggled against his side and her lips curved into a dreamy smile when his arm came around her shoulder. It was a serene, domestic moment, unlike their normally tempestuous encounters. The invasion of her home had cracked her shell, knocking her off her game.
    For the first time he didn’t question whether this was honest fear or just a performance to make him sympathetic toward her. He’d seen her acting range. She could transform herself into whatever played into a man’s fantasy. Since he’d criticized the way she dressed, he’d noticed her wardrobe had become more professional. Was she donning another costume, one designed to win him over? Did she even comprehend what she was doing? Or was it second nature to her?
    “You’re a hard woman to read, Scarlett Fontaine.”
    Tonight, she’d been as rattled as he’d ever seen her. So much so she couldn’t bring herself to tell him she was afraid.
    Her sigh brushed his neck. “I hate to admit it, but you bring out the worst in me.”
    He was silent a long moment. “Why is that?” He asked the question, not expecting she’d tell him the truth.
    “I guess I want too much for you to like me.”
    Her declaration caught him off guard. Had she recovered her equilibrium? Was this an act? She’d been prickly when he’d told her he wasn’t going to take advantage of her. She hadn’t appreciated his chivalry. And she’d been right to say that few men would’ve let her go to bed alone. Sitting alone out here with nothing but an unlocked door between them was a harsh test of his willpower.
    “Why do you care what I think?”
    “Because I like you and I know you don’t approve of me.”
    He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “Why do you care what I think?”
    “There aren’t a lot of people who don’t like me.” She huffed out a small laugh. “I know how that sounds, but I’ve always had a knack for winning people over.”
    “I’ve seen you in action many times.”
    “I can hear it in your voice. You don’t approve of how I behave.” She sounded grumpy.
    Against his better judgment, Logan found her dismay charming. “Does it occur to you how ridiculous it sounds to say you want me to like you when you’ve been provocative and difficult at every turn?”
    “I’m simply responding to your scorn.” She flashed him a baleful glance. “Call it self-preservation.”
    Hadn’t he been just as guilty of provoking her? “Should we call a truce?”
    “And have you lose interest in me because things become boring between us?” Her green eyes had regained some of their wicked sparkle. “Half the reason you find me so