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I turn to him because the lie is so scalding. "Seriously, you're staring at me."

"I'm sorry." Ash drops his gaze to the carpet between us.

"You're mad that Omar thinks you betrayed me?"

"No."

"You think I'm playing with fire and are concerned for my safety?" His jaw relaxes and his lips twitch. I grin, pleased with myself.

"Don't look so pleased with yourself," Ash says, keeping his focus on the intricately patterned rug.

"Don't ruin my fun."

His eyes come back to me, and concern tightens the skin around them. "Angela." Fuck, when he says my name like that, the whole grid lights up, sparks skittering between us. Does he feel that too? He must. This kind of thing can't be one-sided. Can it?

No. He wants me—Ash has made that clear. That he wants me but isn't going to do a damn thing about it because of his nobility and professionalism. Traits I admire. Sort of. I swallow and his eyes drop to my throat as if he can tell I'm trying to push down the lust that his voice saying my name just ignited in my sleep-addled body. Does he know the way it fuzzed my not nearly caffeinated enough brain?

"This hunt is a bad idea," Ash continues.

"I'm not going hunting," I say, shaking my head and dropping my gaze to my coffee cup. "I might go horseback riding with Omar. But I'm not joining the hunt."

"Okay."

"Why?" I look up. "Do you think I'd be hurt? Or are you worried about how you and Alesana can provide security?”

"I'm worried about you." His eyes hold mine and there is analwaysat the end of that sentence he's not saying out loud. The fealty I wanted is right there. I got it. But it doesn't feel like enough…

"I'll be fine," I say.

"I know."

My smile trembles. "Because you'll take care of me?"

"You can take care of yourself. I'm just here to watch your back." I laugh because it's so ridiculous. His head tips, examining me from that other angle he seems to need when I'm not making sense. "Angela."

"Don't." I shake my head.

His head tips further—my words just getting more confusing. "You are very capable. You saved my life." Fuck, he's doing that earnest thing again and I cannot. I just cannot contend with earnest Ash. Iceberg Ash is better than this vulnerable man leaning forward, his eyes intense—practically begging me to see what he sees.

"You've saved mine a few times." I wave a hand at him. The memory of his big body blocking me every time I've needed a body to block mine in the last two years except for that blast. That ambulance. The sickening need to kill I've been fighting grips me by the throat.

"What?" Ash asks, noticing the shift in me.

I meet his gaze, suddenly desperate to tell him. The words are sitting there.I wanted to kill him, Ash. I wanted to slide my blade across his throat and feel the warmth of his life pour over my skin. I wanted to end him so he would never hurt anyone again."Nothing," I say, shrugging one shoulder, and turning my focus to the fire.

"You can tell me," Ash says, his voice quiet, almost a whisper. "If there is ever anything…you should tell me. It makes it harder to have your back when you don't share."

The laugh that comes out is bitter. It belongs to a woman who has realized all her efforts have gotten her nowhere but to the edge of an abyss. That she made all the wrong moves for the wrong reasons. I note the swirl of emotions that elicit it. The thoughts running through my mind when it escaped.

He would never understand.

Don't risk telling a man what you really think.

Sharing your darkest thoughts will only hurt.

Life will kick you in the teeth the moment you think it won't.

Faith is the most dangerous drug.