He said nothing.
“She was having your baby! The same baby I felt die inside of me! You're the father of my sister's child. And the Pack Leader? And you kept it from me?!”
“You weren't ready to hear it.”
“Don't you dare! You lied to me!”
He glared at her defensively. “I never lied to you, I just didn't tell you.”
“Don't use that 'not telling me isn't the same as lying to me' crap, 'cos it is! Keeping something from someone and lying to them is the same thing!”
“I was just trying to protect you!” he barked, his voice cracking the air like a whip.
“That's the problem! You protect me when I don't need it, and you don't protect me when I do!”
He frowned and observed her carefully for a long moment. “Why? Do you need protecting?”
Jaz gaped at him, speechless. She hadn't predicted this reaction. She saw the unexplainable suffering sweep across his face, then a strong emotion burned behind his eyes. She didn't understand it but she felt the power of it and it made her lose her trail of thought. “I-I...”
“I will always be there to keep you safe, no matter what.” He was deadly serious.
An unwanted voice inside her head whined, But where were you this week? Through all the fevers, and harassment and the loneliness that I never felt when I was with you?
She didn't want to believe it but she had to be honest with herself: she'd really wanted him there. When she had been ill and feverish and then when Fraya had made her suffer this long, unrelenting week, she'd thought only of him; imagined him flying in to save the day. It was stupid. He was her brother-in-law. And her kidnapper, and her prison guard. He wasn't her friend -he was a stranger to her.
Part of her stuck by that premise. The other part felt the complete opposite.
She wanted to cry but she didn't. She'd been humiliated enough.
As she held back the fireball of tears, something weaved its way up her throat trying to form into words. If she was going to bring it up, now was as good a time as any. “Why did you put me in your room?” she asked. She caught a flicker in his eyes and knew she'd hit a nerve. Her retort was acidic. “Was it just because you felt sorry for me?”
Driver glowered at her and Jaz balked for the first time, her anger laying way for common sense. Do not piss this guy off.
“No,” he snarled. “I did not.”
She regarded him for a moment. “Yeah, right,” she muttered and turned to walk away.
He caught her and gripped her arms, swinging her around to face his fiery eyes. “I didn't do it because I felt sorry for you -you can take damn good care of yourself. That excuse is bullshit and you know it! You're just using it as a cop-out because you're too scared to face the truth. You know why and it terrifies you.”
Her chest became heavy from the weight of both their emotions. “Let go of me.” Her voice was a befuddled whisper.
The invisible fire between them ignited her skin. The sensation was caused by more than just their anger; though she had never experienced anything like it, she knew sexual tension was the culprit. She couldn't stop it and was ashamed that a huge part of her didn't want it to stop.
His dark eyes watched her as if they could see her confusion as she languished and lusted for the man that right at that moment, she hated.
Jaz began to feel the heat for real and she started to sweat. Her skin was scorching hot. Her whole body was on fire. She touched her hand to her forehead and flinched as it toasted her hand. She blew a gust of air out between her lips. “Is it me or is it hot?” she mumbled.
Without hesitation, Driver placed his hand on her forehead, making a face when the heat burned him. He kept his hand there anyway. It was cool. If she'd had the energy, she would have slapped his hand away. At least that's what she told herself.
She began to fear that her brain would bake inside her skull. That her organs would roast and she'd die an agonizing death. The pain and fever only got worse. It was more intense than any other fever or illness she had ever experienced. From being nothing to a horrible torment, it only took ten seconds. She couldn't hide it anymore and involuntarily winced, letting out a tiny suppressed moan.
Driver loosened his grip on her arm, frowning at her with concern. He removed his hand from her head. When the coolness disappeared, replaced with fire, that's when she fully realized he'd touched her.
“You're feverish.”
She shook her head. Stabbing pains shot up and down her arms and legs and she cringed. She shook her head again. No, this is something else. “I need to go.”
Before he could stop her, she turned and sprinted away, desperate to get back to the cabin so she could scream her guts out alone.