“Hi,” he said.
A long silence stretched between them, broken only by the sounds of the children, and more distant sounds from the game further down the hall. Rebecca shifted her weight slightly from one foot to the other, threading her hands through the beast’s fur like it was a lifeline. He’d never seen her anxious before – not in the jungles of Namibia, not in the midst of a raging flood, and not when it had been only the two of them in a remote location deep in the mountains. Yet here, in his brother’s house, surrounded by friends and family for a Thanksgiving celebration, she was afraid. Of him.
It was so inherently wrong it was difficult to grasp. No matter what, Rebecca should never feel uncomfortable around him. She was the only one who had ever not looked at him like he was the Iceman.
He had been a fool. He had let himself believe that he was protecting her by pretending there was nothing between them, but now he knew the truth. Having her look at him like that hurt worse than any bullet he’d ever taken; any torture he’d ever endured.
Maggie’s voice rang out from the kitchen, announcing that dinner was ready and inviting everyone into the dining room. Parents came for their kids, shooting the two of them looks but wisely refraining from comment, leaving Kane and Rebecca alone at opposite sides of the playroom.
Rebecca bit her lip uncertainly, then took a step forward. The beast stood and mimicked her actions. She moved slowly, cautiously, her hand on the back of the dog for support. Her limp, though slight, was unmistakable. An icy cold began to blossom somewhere deep inside Kane’s center, spreading outward with every halting step she took.
As Rebecca neared him, she dropped her head, unable or unwilling to meet his eyes. He stepped back slightly to allow her to pass, fighting the urge to crush her to him and kiss her until she looked at him like she used to. That’s when he saw what her new hairstyle had been concealing from across the room – the faded, mottled spots from the beating she had taken several weeks earlier.
Kane couldn’t help himself. Without conscious thought, one hand grasped her upper arm while the other brushed back her hair, revealing a line of shadows that ran the length of her face, only partially concealed beneath makeup she rarely wore.
“Jesus,” he whispered, his chest filling with so much rage his vision tinged red. Jake had told him. Nicki had told him. Goddamn it, he had known she’d been hurt. But nothing had prepared him for this, for actually seeing the evidence. Someone fucking hurt his woman. The realization hit him even harder, like a solid shot to the solar plexus with a wrecking ball.
Rebecca Harrison was his croie.
As the roar in his ears began to subside there came another sound, a deep warning growl. Simultaneously, Kane became aware of a steady pressure against his thighs as the big black monstrosity shouldered his body between them to separate them.
“S’okay, Angus,” she said softly, her graceful fingers reaching down to soothe the beast. The growls stopped, but the dog did not budge.
She only met Kane’s eyes for a second, if that, but the message it held was strong enough to burn into his mind forever: It’s too late, it said.
The hell it was. Rebecca placed her hand over his; her fingers were stiff and cold. This was not Rebecca’s touch; she was always so warm and soft. So surprised was he that he allowed her to gently remove his hand from her arm. Then she turned and took another step. Away from him. Out of his grasp.
At the doorway to the dining room, Rebecca asked the beast to wait. Obediently, the dog sat down on his haunches, though his eyes did not leave his mistress. Kane ran his hand over his face and exhaled. What had he expected? For her to leap into his arms at the sight of him? Well, yes, that would have been nice. He might have dreamed that at some point. Maybe several times.
But he had never imagined the bruises. He hadn’t pictured her slow, hesitant steps to minimize the lingering pain of her injuries. Or the look in her eyes. Those big, soft, exotic brown eyes that had always looked at him with warmth and affection were now shielded and all but devoid of feeling.
She’s lost without you. Nicki’s words resounded in his head as he tried to reconcile the loving, caring woman he’d known with the ghost he’d just seen. Jesus Christ. Rebecca Harrison loved him, and he’d turned her away.
He took a minute to wash up in the hallway bathroom before going in to the dining room. A splash of cold water or two might help him focus, might help him to see a way through this. Because right now, after seeing her, hearing her voice, after being close enough to scent her and feel just a whisper of her fear, he didn’t seem to be capable of thinking of anything much at all.