Page 33 of His Other Half

"The last time I saw you, you told me to stay away from you." She shrugged. "If you don't want—"

"I want you."

She walked over and turned on the light. Not allowing him to hide in the dark, she wanted to see his face when he explained why he came into her apartment again.

"You only want me in the privacy of the apartment and not out there around your club." She crossed her arms underneath her breasts. "There are women at the clubhouse who looked more than happy to do what I can do."

His mouth hardened. She wasn't going to let him use her.

The one night they'd spent together was enjoyable. More than enjoyable. It was the best night of her life, but she wasn't looking for a complicated relationship or to be someone's convenience. It would be different if he wanted to share time with her, and it came with mutual respect.

But half the time, she had a feeling Paco didn't even like her.

"The other women, aren't you." He stared at her chest. "I can't sleep."

Realizing what he'd gone through killing one of the men who'd taken her and Cami, she softened. She wasn't the only one having a hard time accepting what had happened.

She held out her hand. He looked at her, questioning her silently after she'd told him he couldn't be with her.

"Lay down with me. I'll watch over you while you close your eyes," she whispered.

He slipped his fingers into her hand. She pulled him to the bed. There was no reason to get under the covers. She wasn't going to sleep tonight, and he was fully dressed.

She climbed up on the bed. "Take your boots off."

He sat on the edge of the mattress and bent over. She studied his broad back, the patches on his leather vest.

They were so different. He was older. She was younger. He adorned himself with black leather, bulky rings on his fingers, and ink on his skin. She never wore makeup, kept her hair straight, and preferred to wear one beaded necklace in her mother's colors. She had one tattoo.

She reached up and rubbed the back of her shoulder. The symbol for Thunder bird.

At sixteen years old, she'd had an older boy at the Rez give her a tattoo. She'd picked Thunder Bird because she liked to think that someone was watching over her, guiding her, and keeping her focused on the future.

How little she knew at the time. Now, because of Paco showing up in her life, she believed it was a sign—one she was reluctant to believe in.

When Paco finished removing his boots, he stretched out beside her and pulled her against him. She snuggled, holding him close, and hummed in the quiet of the night. A song her mother used to sing her when she was little and wasn't feeling well.

She closed her eyes, comforted by him being here despite knowing in the end, they had to stop seeing each other. Even now, her body warmed and molded against him as if made to have sex with him. She'd never had an attraction that was more powerful than common sense.

Falling for someone who would never match her life was something careless women would do. Not her.

She had too much to fight for.

Paco stroked her back. His chest, underneath her cheek, rose and fell steadily, showing no sign of relaxing. It went against her belief to ask someone about their dreams without them volunteering the information. It was a sure way of inviting nightmares into her sleep. But she found herself struggling to keep her mouth shut. She wanted to know what was bothering him.

If she could lighten him of his burden. A burden she'd put on him. He could find some peace.

She lifted her head. Paco looked back at her as if he'd never stopped since getting into bed with her.

"I need to fix what I put you through." She rubbed her lips together. "I owe you."

He smoothed the hair off her forehead. "You don't owe me anything."

The question that kept popping up in her mind sprang out. "How did you know Askook took me?"

"Askook?"

She shook her head, remembering he wouldn't know Askook's tribal name. "Robert Shaw."