Page 70 of Hearts at War

I sighed heavily, hating that I’d had to go from a raging hard-on and enjoying the hottest, most sensual woman I’d met in years, to a flaccid dick now down with a massive turn-off.

“Nevaeh has been a thorn in my side for years now,” I explained.

“But does she need money?” she worried.

“No.” I frowned as I grabbed my shirt where I’d set it on the back of my chair. “Yes. Hell, I don’t know. She’s not forthcoming with answers. She comes and goes as she pleases.”

“Ah.” She bit her lip, still hugging herself. “But if she’s a minor—”

“She’s nineteen. Alone, but like she loves to remind me, an adult.” I hated to have to admit any of this. “I help her when I can. She’ll find me and crash on my couch. I have no clue what she does and sometimes I don’t hear from her for months. But I will never give her money again.”

Heather winced. “Drugs?”

I shook my head but ended up shrugging. “I don’t think so. I never smell them on her. Or booze. But she blows through it on stupid shit. She refuses to get a job. If she’s going so far to ask for money, it probably means she’s hooking up.”

She frowned. “Not on...drugs though?”

I shook my head again as I tugged my shirt on. “No. Whenever she gets this bold about looking for money, I’m concerned she’s hooking up with someone. And that’s never good news. She’s not the best judge of character, and whenever she has a boyfriend, they want to use her for whatever they can—usually money.”

“I see.”

Do you? I hated to think of how Heather could be familiar with such a rocky and unstable situation, but clearly, she had some kind of experiences to make her the guarded, almost hostile woman that she was.

Heather as a victim... I didn’t like that concept one bit.

“I won’t give her money,” she said.

“Thank you,” I said as I straightened my shirt. “It’s not like she’s violent. Or anything like that. Sneaky, yes. Mean, no.”

She huffed. “I don’t know. Calling me a bitch doesn’t make her pleasant.”

I sighed. “Sorry about that. She’s...quick to temper, but she’s not a harm.”

“Okay.”

“And if anything were to harm you,” I added, approaching her, “you can trust me to keep you safe.”

Her chest rose and fell in a deep inhale and exhale. It seemed shaky, as if those specific words could be a weapon to face, a danger to counter.

“No offense, Roarke,” she said, oddly stubborn and doubtful, “but I’m skeptical you can or should keep me safe.”

What a stark difference. Gone was the submissive, sweet, and needy woman in the throes of passion. She was defensive and putting her walls back up, no thanks to the interruption from my niece. Talk about one step forward and two steps back.

She’d definitely been hurt before, and as much as I wanted to rail in fury, I knew that staying calm and patient was the only way to go with her.

“But I will,” I said, closing the distance between us and trying to keep things light before I left. After kissing her one last time, I savored how she leaned into me, trying to follow me as I backed away. “Maybe you can play nurse for me again sometime soon. It’s been a long time since I got taken care of like that.”

Her cheeks turned pink, turning me on again. Dammit, she was something else. Strong, but battered. Sexy, but demure.

“Since you were taken care of?” Her blush deepened as she wrapped her open shirt around her tighter. “I was the one who got off on the table.”

“Then we can keep a tab,” I joked.

Her brow furrowed.

Shit. That was a stupid thing to say. Once the words were out of my mouth, I realized how ridiculous that was. A tab? Like we were making transactions or keeping a fucking score? I wanted to give her pleasure, and I wasn’t doing it just so she would return the favor.

Fuck. I never should’ve said that.