feel way too small and fragile.
“Yep.” Forcing bravado, she ignored her racing heart and tried to brush past him.
He stopped her with a finger against her heart. “Did you or did you not get shot at last night?” His voice was a low rumble of mangled rebar mingled with shards of glass.
Her lungs seized. Okay. So he was really mad. “I have my gun.”
“Your gun.” He breathed out, tension pouring off him in waves. “You have your little shooter to handle another hit team with automatic weapons. Well shit, Veronica. I didn’t know that.”
She grimaced at the furious sarcasm. “You’re overreacting.”
Wrong thing to say. She knew it the second the last word left her mouth, but it was too late to grab it back.
Red flushed high and dark across Jared’s sharp cheekbones. His nostrils flared. The atmosphere in the small room swelled with the force of his anger. “Is that a fact?” he growled.
Her legs trembled a second before her temper caught up. Thank God. She reared up, meeting his glittering gaze head on. “Yes. Plus, I didn’t want to bother you. It seemed you and Ginny were deep into a cozy conversation, and you weren’t even wearing a fucking shirt.” Yeah, she sounded jealous. Who the hell cared? He had no right to be so furious at her.
His chin lowered.
Her stomach rolled.
“Listen, mate .”
She held up a hand. “No. I’m done listening. You want that wallflower? That weak chick who needs you to tie her shoelaces? You can have her. I’m tired of it. Tired of you acting like we’re all so breakable. Fuck off, Jared.” Her words started to roll together so quickly she wasn’t even sure what she said.
He stared at her.
Why the hell did he do that? It was as if he weighed every option, every decision…even in a temper. Finally, he seemed to reach a decision. “All right.”
She shook her head. “What do you mean, all right?”
The slight curve of his lip held menace. “You don’t want me to treat you as breakable?”
So much threat existed in the sentence, she had no choice but to instinctively deflect. “Jared, I’m so tired of your crap.” In a suitable huff, she tried to move past him again.
And didn’t make it.
Did he pick her up? No.
Toss her over his shoulder? No.
Instead, former pirate Jared Reese shot a hand into her hair, tangled, and pulled. He stormed through the kitchen and living room, his hold absolute.
She had no option but to follow along, considering her hair was nicely attached to her head, her face slightly down. “What the holy crap are you doing?” she hissed.
“Showing you,” he snapped back, reaching the stairs.
She plowed a fist into his kidneys. “Showing me what? That you can drag a woman by the hair like a Neanderthal?”
He paused. “I’m not dragging you and you know it.”
True. Yet she had no choice but to move. “You’re showing me you’re an ass.”
“You already knew that.” He twisted his wrist, and her head jerked back so her gaze could meet his. “What you apparently didn’t know is that I can control you with one fucking hand. Just one. If that isn’t the definition of breakable, I don’t know what is.” His fingers tightened just enough to hint pain along her scalp.
“You are such a dick.” Which didn’t explain why her nipples were peaking and her nerves firing. Did she actually like this side of him? Hell, no. So she punched out again.
His hand moved, faster than possible, to manacle around her neck. He jerked her face closer to his.
Her eyes widened.
“Back. Up.” He enforced each word with his thumb against her jugular, pushing her just enough she had no choice but to lift her foot to the step behind her. “Again.”
Okay. So he was making a good point, damn it. Her knees trembled in awareness as she was intrigued whether she wanted to be or not. “Let go of me or I’ll just shoot you,” she said, digging deep.
His chin lifted slightly. “Take the gun out.”
Oops. It figured he’d
“Yep.” Forcing bravado, she ignored her racing heart and tried to brush past him.
He stopped her with a finger against her heart. “Did you or did you not get shot at last night?” His voice was a low rumble of mangled rebar mingled with shards of glass.
Her lungs seized. Okay. So he was really mad. “I have my gun.”
“Your gun.” He breathed out, tension pouring off him in waves. “You have your little shooter to handle another hit team with automatic weapons. Well shit, Veronica. I didn’t know that.”
She grimaced at the furious sarcasm. “You’re overreacting.”
Wrong thing to say. She knew it the second the last word left her mouth, but it was too late to grab it back.
Red flushed high and dark across Jared’s sharp cheekbones. His nostrils flared. The atmosphere in the small room swelled with the force of his anger. “Is that a fact?” he growled.
Her legs trembled a second before her temper caught up. Thank God. She reared up, meeting his glittering gaze head on. “Yes. Plus, I didn’t want to bother you. It seemed you and Ginny were deep into a cozy conversation, and you weren’t even wearing a fucking shirt.” Yeah, she sounded jealous. Who the hell cared? He had no right to be so furious at her.
His chin lowered.
Her stomach rolled.
“Listen, mate .”
She held up a hand. “No. I’m done listening. You want that wallflower? That weak chick who needs you to tie her shoelaces? You can have her. I’m tired of it. Tired of you acting like we’re all so breakable. Fuck off, Jared.” Her words started to roll together so quickly she wasn’t even sure what she said.
He stared at her.
Why the hell did he do that? It was as if he weighed every option, every decision…even in a temper. Finally, he seemed to reach a decision. “All right.”
She shook her head. “What do you mean, all right?”
The slight curve of his lip held menace. “You don’t want me to treat you as breakable?”
So much threat existed in the sentence, she had no choice but to instinctively deflect. “Jared, I’m so tired of your crap.” In a suitable huff, she tried to move past him again.
And didn’t make it.
Did he pick her up? No.
Toss her over his shoulder? No.
Instead, former pirate Jared Reese shot a hand into her hair, tangled, and pulled. He stormed through the kitchen and living room, his hold absolute.
She had no option but to follow along, considering her hair was nicely attached to her head, her face slightly down. “What the holy crap are you doing?” she hissed.
“Showing you,” he snapped back, reaching the stairs.
She plowed a fist into his kidneys. “Showing me what? That you can drag a woman by the hair like a Neanderthal?”
He paused. “I’m not dragging you and you know it.”
True. Yet she had no choice but to move. “You’re showing me you’re an ass.”
“You already knew that.” He twisted his wrist, and her head jerked back so her gaze could meet his. “What you apparently didn’t know is that I can control you with one fucking hand. Just one. If that isn’t the definition of breakable, I don’t know what is.” His fingers tightened just enough to hint pain along her scalp.
“You are such a dick.” Which didn’t explain why her nipples were peaking and her nerves firing. Did she actually like this side of him? Hell, no. So she punched out again.
His hand moved, faster than possible, to manacle around her neck. He jerked her face closer to his.
Her eyes widened.
“Back. Up.” He enforced each word with his thumb against her jugular, pushing her just enough she had no choice but to lift her foot to the step behind her. “Again.”
Okay. So he was making a good point, damn it. Her knees trembled in awareness as she was intrigued whether she wanted to be or not. “Let go of me or I’ll just shoot you,” she said, digging deep.
His chin lifted slightly. “Take the gun out.”
Oops. It figured he’d
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