The trip down the mountain was quiet. Rebecca sat against the passenger door, staring at the hands she had folded neatly in her lap. He stole occasional sideways glances at her. He hadn’t wanted to hurt her. The whole point of taking her back – of getting her away from him – was to protect her, because he was way beyond the point of being able to watch her give herself so freely – so selflessly – to others. He couldn’t think about any of the things that had been done to her, because the resulting rage was almost more than he could handle.
Outside, he was the Iceman. Inside, it felt like every last cell in his body was on fire, the pain constant and excruciating.
He couldn’t kid himself anymore, either; he was incapable of being her friend. He’d thought he could be. He’d told himself that her companionship was enough. It wasn’t. Now he knew he wanted nothing less than full possession, and that wouldn’t be fair to a woman as giving, as caring as Rebecca. She would come to resent him, just as she resented her brother and her family for trying to control her life and her choices.
If he had one wish, he would wish desperately to be the kind of man who could love her and still give her the freedom to do whatever made her happy. But he wasn’t that man. And he knew that no matter how much he loved her, he never could be. It simply wasn’t in him.
Her face was a mask, expressionless. He knew better than to expect tears or pouting from her; she was much too strong for that. It was one of the things that drew him to her – her inner strength, her resolve. And it was a good thing, too, because if he ever saw a single tear fall from her eye because of something he’d done, he would never forgive himself. As long as she stayed strong, didn’t cry or pout, he could tell himself that he was doing the right thing, and that deep down inside she knew and accepted that. That as much as this was killing him, it was the best thing for her. She had willingly sacrificed herself for him once. He wouldn’t allow her to do it a second time.
When Kane pulled up in front of Aidan’s condo, he didn’t bother turning off the engine. He stared straight ahead, refusing to look at her. He made no move to get out.
“So where does this leave us, Kane?” she asked quietly, her voice as soft as a whisper.
He turned his head slowly; his face could have been carved from stone for the amount of softness it held. “There is no us,” Kane said simply. His tone was cool; his eyes, blue ice. “I apologize if I misled you.”
*
It was scary, being the target of such barely leashed rage. His anger washed over her, suffocating her, holding her captive; she couldn’t have moved if she wanted to. Rebecca began to realize why everyone else gave him such a wide berth; the man was power personified, rolling thunder and deadly lightning – one strike and that would be the end. How many had looked into those eyes, those beautiful, deadly eyes, and thought the same thing?
Had he misled her? She thought about it. No, she realized, he never had. He had been nothing but kind and thoughtful. He had not once tried to kiss her, or hold her, or suggest anything beyond simple platonic companionship. It had been she who had misunderstood. God, she was such a fool. Just because he was the first man she’d ever had these kinds of feelings for, she’d assumed he felt the same.
Her cheeks flushed and she dropped her eyes, saying a silent prayer that the earth would just open up and swallow her. When that didn’t happen, she nodded her head once.
“You didn’t mislead me. It is I who must apologize for ... misunderstanding. Thank you for being honest with me.”
Kane turned his gaze back to the windshield, a clear dismissal. Rebecca let herself out of the cab and walked slowly to the door. Once she was inside, Kane pulled away from the curb. He didn’t gun it, didn’t leave skid marks.
And he didn’t look back.
From behind the curtained panels flanking Aidan’s entranceway, Rebecca watched Kane pull away until his tail lights were no longer visible, still feeling somewhat shell-shocked. She didn’t know what possessed her to drop that towel and reveal herself to him. It wasn’t like she had planned to do it, or even that the thought occurred to her when she came out of the bathroom to find him standing there, eyes closed, looking rugged and windblown, the epitome of everything raw and masculine. It just happened. One minute she was covered; the next, she wasn’t.