Just like that she became distant, the shields going up, and he knew he wasn’t going to be able to get any of the answers to the questions burning his tongue tonight. Damn it, but the parts she’d inadvertently disclosed frustrated and angered him and had him thinking that wherever she’d come from, whoever she was running from hadn’t treated her any better than an animal.
There was something unworldly about her, a cloud of innocence and ignorance of the most basic things that made him believe she’d been kept tightly under wraps. A prisoner never allowed out of whatever hellhole she’d been sequestered in. And the fact that she knew so little of the modern world also told him she hadn’t been there a short time, either.
He sighed, seeing that she was tense and wary, probably expecting him to start demanding answers at any time. After all, he’d told her as much on their way here. That she was going to tell him everything.
Wanting to give her one night when she wasn’t so burdened down that she staggered under the weight of so much worry, he reached over and brushed his fingertip down the line of her cheek.
“Just eat, Jenna. We’ll talk when you trust me enough to let me in and share what you were running from. Until then, I’m just going to have to prove to you that I’ll never hurt you, I’ll always protect you and that I’m willing to wait until you’re ready to tell me your secrets.”
He nearly groaned because when she lifted her gaze to his, she looked at him like he was the only man in the world. Like he was some kind of damn hero. Her hero. Her eyes went shiny with tears and her smile . . . Jesus, her smile. It had the effect of a sledgehammer to his gut.
“No one has ever been nice to me,” she said, almost whispering. “I had given up hope that kindness existed in the world, but you—all of you—have shown me that it does. You’ll never know how much this has meant to me.”
He wanted to weep at the sincerity in her words. The calm, matter-of-fact way she’d said that no one had ever shown her kindness. And yet she was an angel in a world that had shown her no mercy. His damaged angel. An angel with broken wings just dying to fly. He made a vow that she would fly again, no matter what he had to do in order to make that happen.
“Eat,” he ordered in a gruff voice laced with emotion. It was all he could say without risking breaking down in front of her. He wanted to put his fist through the wall, but what he most wanted was to get his hands on the bastards who’d made her suffer, who’d made her life a living hell for so long.
She excitedly dug into the steak first and he watched her expression as the first bite hit her tongue. She chewed reverently and then closed her eyes, sighing deeply as she savored the taste of the perfectly cooked meat.
“Good?” he teased.
“Amazing,” she breathed.
He noticed she dug into the steak and the baked potato with enthusiasm, delighting in every single bite. In fact he’d never seen anyone take such pleasure in such a simple meal, but then he had to remember it was doubtful she found much satisfaction at all in the food she’d eaten before. Yet despite her obvious enjoyment of the steak and potato, she didn’t so much as touch the asparagus.
“Not a vegetable eater?” he teased.
But then he cursed his words and his attempt to lighten the mood when her face fell and once again she became fidgety.
“Vegetables were all I was ever allowed to eat,” she said, her head low in embarrassment. “Sometimes bread as a reward when I . . .”
Once more she broke off before revealing further information.
Isaac ignored the anger simmering in his veins, determined to make the meal as enjoyable for his angel as possible.
“Then I’ll make sure you never have to eat anything you don’t want again,” he said, solemnly.
Her smile was small, but at least she lifted her head again and most of the shame shadowing her eyes had disappeared. Just to make her smile again, he leaned over and forked her asparagus, moving the stalks to his plate.
“Now their offending presence is gone from your plate and won’t interfere with your steak and potato,” he said with an exaggerated grin.
Her smile broadened and once more he felt like he’d been punched in the stomach, momentarily robbed of air. Even bruised and fragile looking, she was the most beautiful, tiny angel he’d ever seen in his life.
“There. That’s better. I like it when my girl smiles.”
She blinked in surprise and he wondered if he’d gone too far in his teasing. There was sadness in her eyes, but also what looked like a flash of hope and yearning, as if she wanted more than anything to belong to anyone.
Fuck that. She might not know it yet, but she did belong to someone. She belonged to him.
NINE
ALL too soon the others began filtering back into the living room and Jenna retreated into observation mode, shrinking against the couch as if to make herself invisible as she watched the others interact.
Isaac had used the need for more seating room as an excuse to move closer to Jenna until they sat side by side, their thighs touching. Eliza walked out ahead of Sterling to collect Jenna and Isaac’s plates, but before she could return them to the kitchen, Sterling was there, taking them from her, and then he leaned in and kissed her deeply.
“We need to be going,” Sterling said to Isaac and his men. “But my guys will be staying to guard the perimeter and if you need anything at all, don’t hesitate to call me.”
Jenna had watched Eliza and Sterling, her eyes glazed with shock, but she waited until they’d left the room before she whispered to Isaac.
“Why did he kiss her?”
He could tell she was deeply confused and hell, so was he.
“He loves her,” he said simply. “She’s his wife. Hell, he can barely keep his hands off her most of the time,” he added with a chuckle.
There was no change in her expression.
“The men never kissed their wives,” she said in a low voice. “I was told I was unworthy of being kissed, of being held in such high regard, but none of the women were kissed. They were just possessions, married or not. I guess I don’t understand the point of kissing.”
Isaac swore under his breath. Just how old was Jenna? Was she even legal? He knew she looked young and there was definitely an air of innocence and na?veté about her that he’d never encountered even in very young girls. Jesus, if she wasn’t even of legal age, that meant he was almost twenty years older than her and he had no business having the thoughts he’d had of her.
“There are many reasons to kiss someone,” he said in a near whisper so the others wouldn’t hear. He knew she’d be deeply embarrassed if they were overheard. “Kisses can be a gesture of affection. Friendship. They can be an indication of passion. Of love. Of wanting someone. Or they can show a person that they are deeply cared about.”
Her sad expression of longing told him that she’d never felt any of those things, or at least that no one had ever felt those things about her.
He leaned forward, sliding his hand behind her neck to pull her toward him, and pressed a kiss to her forehead.