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“Is there something going on here that I ought to know about?” Caroline asked, her head bobbing from man to man.
“No,” Blake said succinctly, keeping his gaze a few inches above her head. What the hell was he supposed to do with her? It was far too dangerous for her to stay. He had to make sure she left before it was too late.
But she'd already woken up that part of him he liked to keep undisturbed. The part that cared. And the reason he didn't want her staying—it was simple. She frightened him. He had spent a great deal of his emotional energy keeping his distance from women who aroused anything other than disinterest or lust.
Caroline was smart. She was witty. She was damned appealing. And Blake didn't want her within ten miles of Seacrest Manor. He'd tried caring before. It had nearly destroyed him.
“Ah, bloody hell,” he finally said. “She stays, then. But I want both of you to know that I completely disapprove.”
“A fact which you have made abundantly clear,” James drawled.
Blake ignored him and chanced a look over at Caroline. Bad idea. She smiled at him, really smiled, and it lit up her whole face, and she looked so damned sweet, and …
Blake swore under his breath. He knew this was a big mistake. The way she was smiling at him, as if she thought she could actually light the farthest corners of his heart …
God, she scared him.
