guard unless he chose to let you in, and well, that was rare. Sheâd gotten a few glimpses, usually when women, or rather the women the men of DSS had claimed, had been endangered, nearly killed, certainly harmed.
She nearly laughed. Claimed was such an old-world, outdated term, not in keeping with her modern sensibilities, but then not so very long ago, she would have proudly and without shame used that term for a monster who had certainly claimed her. Sheâd reveled in that sense of ownership. The idea that she belonged. That she mattered and was important to someone in the world after a lifetime of mattering to no one. Now it was only a source of never-ending shame because the claim Thomas had on her was sick, twisted and it was not love. Nothing like the claim Caleb, Beau and Zack had on their women. That was love. It was pure, beautiful and magical and it was the epitome of everything sheâd once wanted more than she wanted to breathe and would have died for it. She nearly had.
Sheâd even caught a crack in Daneâs icy veneer when she herself had been the one in danger on their last mission. Heâd come close to completely losing all vestiges of that legendary composure when sheâd lain there so still after enduring unspeakable torture and it wasnât known whether she lived or had died.
Until that Neanderthal Wade Sterling had inserted himself into a situation he clearly didnât belong in. She scowled at the memory of just how heâd taken over. Heâd picked her up, had held her, cradled her, actual concern dark in those mesmerizing eyes as though she had mattered to him.
She caught herself before she did something stupid like shake her head vehemently in denial of such a crazy, unwanted thought. But a nagging voice inside her, one she wanted to bitch slap and banish forever, innocently asked if she was so certain she didnât matter to Sterling.
To get her mind off Sterling and to delay, for now, the overwhelming grief and dread of her impending meeting with Dane, she turned just enough so she could see Zack in her periphery, but made certain it wasnât obvious she was watching him. The voice of Caleb droned on and on and she could see she wasnât the only one impatient for the meeting to be done. Several of the people she worked with had bored, impatient expressions and the eyes of others were glazed over, obviously having tuned out the endless drone completely.
Her gaze slowly settled back on Zack and she went still, remembering to bring and adopt the same bored expression the rest of the team wore when he looked in her direction. Her heart plummeted because it wasnât a friendly look. Not remotely. His expression was black and brooding. Yeah, he was pissed. But then she couldnât blame him considering how protective he was of Gracie and then there was the fact that before that fucking phone call, she had been tight with Gracie. Sheâd been tight with all the wives. But especially Gracie, with whom sheâd formed a special bond after all the shit that had gone down.
Unable to bear the anger and, worse, the disappointment in Zackâs expression she averted her gaze, shutting him out. She glanced in Daneâs direction, not feeling any better about the deception she was perpetrating. Guilt flooded her.
She shuddered, tears stinging her eyelids and she blinked them back, furious at her lack of control. And she should have known that if no one else would pick up on that nearly imperceptible slip up, Dane would.
He eyed her sharply, his gaze flickering over her as if revealing every secret she ever held, every thought sheâd locked down permanently, never to escape and see the light of day again.
He moved closer with casualness that had her blinking because he made it seem unplanned, like he was growing weary of the prolonged meeting and was merely shifting his weight. He donned an impatient look, one he was famous for, one that said,
She nearly laughed. Claimed was such an old-world, outdated term, not in keeping with her modern sensibilities, but then not so very long ago, she would have proudly and without shame used that term for a monster who had certainly claimed her. Sheâd reveled in that sense of ownership. The idea that she belonged. That she mattered and was important to someone in the world after a lifetime of mattering to no one. Now it was only a source of never-ending shame because the claim Thomas had on her was sick, twisted and it was not love. Nothing like the claim Caleb, Beau and Zack had on their women. That was love. It was pure, beautiful and magical and it was the epitome of everything sheâd once wanted more than she wanted to breathe and would have died for it. She nearly had.
Sheâd even caught a crack in Daneâs icy veneer when she herself had been the one in danger on their last mission. Heâd come close to completely losing all vestiges of that legendary composure when sheâd lain there so still after enduring unspeakable torture and it wasnât known whether she lived or had died.
Until that Neanderthal Wade Sterling had inserted himself into a situation he clearly didnât belong in. She scowled at the memory of just how heâd taken over. Heâd picked her up, had held her, cradled her, actual concern dark in those mesmerizing eyes as though she had mattered to him.
She caught herself before she did something stupid like shake her head vehemently in denial of such a crazy, unwanted thought. But a nagging voice inside her, one she wanted to bitch slap and banish forever, innocently asked if she was so certain she didnât matter to Sterling.
To get her mind off Sterling and to delay, for now, the overwhelming grief and dread of her impending meeting with Dane, she turned just enough so she could see Zack in her periphery, but made certain it wasnât obvious she was watching him. The voice of Caleb droned on and on and she could see she wasnât the only one impatient for the meeting to be done. Several of the people she worked with had bored, impatient expressions and the eyes of others were glazed over, obviously having tuned out the endless drone completely.
Her gaze slowly settled back on Zack and she went still, remembering to bring and adopt the same bored expression the rest of the team wore when he looked in her direction. Her heart plummeted because it wasnât a friendly look. Not remotely. His expression was black and brooding. Yeah, he was pissed. But then she couldnât blame him considering how protective he was of Gracie and then there was the fact that before that fucking phone call, she had been tight with Gracie. Sheâd been tight with all the wives. But especially Gracie, with whom sheâd formed a special bond after all the shit that had gone down.
Unable to bear the anger and, worse, the disappointment in Zackâs expression she averted her gaze, shutting him out. She glanced in Daneâs direction, not feeling any better about the deception she was perpetrating. Guilt flooded her.
She shuddered, tears stinging her eyelids and she blinked them back, furious at her lack of control. And she should have known that if no one else would pick up on that nearly imperceptible slip up, Dane would.
He eyed her sharply, his gaze flickering over her as if revealing every secret she ever held, every thought sheâd locked down permanently, never to escape and see the light of day again.
He moved closer with casualness that had her blinking because he made it seem unplanned, like he was growing weary of the prolonged meeting and was merely shifting his weight. He donned an impatient look, one he was famous for, one that said,
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