Page 47 of His Other Half

What they had was good. The best thing he'd ever had.

He couldn't let her go. It was impossible.

Josie had turned out the light in the room. By habit, he placed his clothes on the dresser and put his weapon on the nightstand. He lowered himself to the bed, keeping his jeans and boots on. If Shaw or his men returned, he wanted to be ready, not naked, or compromised.

He rolled his head on the pillow. Josie hugged her side of the bed. Not one part of Josie's body touched him.

The distance was his loss. He'd forced her to step back and stay away.

He hated every minute of staying away from her. All he wanted was her in his arms.

What would happen when she realized she no longer needed him?

"I was wrong," he whispered.

She never moved, never responded.

"The shit you're going through, Josie, is a lot. I don't want to add my life to yours, because I don't want to hurt you. It's too much." He latched his hands behind his head. "But I can't stay away from you, so we've got a problem."

She rolled over to her back and stopped before making contact with him. Encouraged, he pushed away everything that could go wrong for everything that could go right.

"I'm staying," he said.

That was that. He told her. They'd move on.

She sat up in bed. He dipped his chin to his chest to peer through the darkness, trying to gauge her reaction.

"Josie?"

She got out of bed and turned on the light. The pleasure he'd expected to see on her face was replaced with anger.

Josie folded her arms tightly under her breasts. "You don't own me."

He sat up.

She cocked her hip. "You can't have me because you want me."

He swung his legs off the bed.

She backed up against the wall. "Stop, Paco."

He stalked forward, every cell, every fiber, every drop of blood inside his body pounded. If she needed proof that she belonged to him, he'd give her fucking proof.