there.
“Running away, Harmony?” he asked as though she intended to do just that.
“This conversation is pointless.”
“You can’t run away from yourself forever. Aren’t you tired of running by now?”
Harmony turned back to him, knowing she wasn’t hiding the effect his accusation had on her.
“Hiding is the only way to survive,” she whispered. “Do you believe Jonas was the only person searching for me the last ten years, Lance? Or the only one to get close? Eventually, my enemies will find me. When they do, they’ll strike where I’m weak.”
“Chemistry doesn’t bind you to another person, Harmony. Emotion binds.”
She stared back at him in shock. Emotion?
“I have no emotions,” she snapped. “Unless you count vengeance.”
“Then you have no weakness.” He shrugged. “Your enemies can’t use what you care nothing about.”
She stared back at him, pressing her lips together as she clenched her teeth on the furious words threatening to fall from her lips.
“A one-night stand does not a lover make, darling.” His smile was faintly sardonic.
“So I should just become your little bedmate and forget the danger in it?” she snapped.
His brow arched slowly. “I wasn’t asking you for sex, Harmony. I was trying to get to know you . I was pointing out how stubborn and willful you are. Not trying to find out how easy you would fall into my bed.”
“I’ve had to be stubborn. Strong,” she bit out. “I would have died that first year I escaped if I hadn’t been.”
The year Dane Vanderale had found her, broken, all but dead. He had saved her, just as he had saved her many times since.
“Yeah, there were a few notes in your file concerning that first year.” He nodded as though the information were general knowledge. “The Coyotes sent after you reported you were wounded, severely. They would have caught you if they hadn’t been diverted by an unknown team of men.”
One of the Coyotes must have lived. She had hoped she had taken them out. There had been two, merciless and bloodthirsty.
“I don’t know about that.” She shook her head firmly. “I just know I escaped. That was all that mattered to me.”
“You were fifteen years old, severely wounded and alone,” he pointed out. “Yet you survived.”
“What’s your point?”
Harmony watched Lance warily now. He was fishing for information, which meant he knew something. Something more than her file had provided for him.
She remembered well the fight between those two Coyotes. Running on nerves alone, hungry, exhausted, they had nearly taken her. Instead, she had escaped when two shadowed figures had jumped into the fray.
The knife wounds she had carried had nearly been fatal once infection and fever had set in. The wounds had been too deep, and her body too weak to fight. She would have died if Dane hadn’t found her.
He was the son of an African industrialist, a rogue and a man who followed his own rules. At that time, he had been tracking the Coyote Breed who had been sent to kill a friend of his, a young man who knew more than he should have. His death had not been easy. And neither had the Coyote’s after Dane had caught up with him.
The secretiveness of his work was imperative for him to succeed in his goal of helping the Breeds destroy the Genetics Council. If it were ever learned that the heir to the vast holdings of Vanderale Enterprises was no more than a vigilante, it could destroy all his family held. It was a secret Harmony had sworn to carry to her grave.
“How did you escape, Harmony?” He lay there asking the question as though the subject meant no more than the weather. He wasn’t demanding answers, he wasn’t interrogating her. He was asking.
“I had help,” she whispered. “Two men heard the fight. I ran while they distracted the Coyotes.”
“Why did the Coyotes say they didn’t have a scent?” A light frown furrowed his brow. “The interrogation reports stated that the
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