Page 22 of When He Fights (Protector & Defender #3)

Chapter Twelve

One bed.

Two people.

Three orgasms.

Ana opened her eyes and stared at the shadowy form right in front of her. Beside her. Around her? Because Kane’s warm, strong arm was still over her hip. She was on her side, cuddled close to him, and it honestly felt like the most natural position in the world.

Like that didn’t terrify her to the soles of her feet.

She’d fallen asleep in his arms. After those truly epic orgasms. The man should come with a warning label. May give orgasms so intense that you’ll never want to use your vibrator again.

Now what was she gonna do? Before, she’d just had fantasies about Kane. After giving herself to him, she knew just how intense the pleasure between them would be. Except…she had a fake life, and she didn’t think he intended to stick around once the case was closed and Logan went back to prison.

I didn’t talk about love. Kane didn’t talk about love. This isn’t about love. It was sex. Really good sex, and nothing was wrong with that.

Carefully, she eased from beneath his arm and out of the bed.

Ana grabbed a robe—soft terry cloth, bright blue—and slid into it before she tip-toed out of the bedroom.

Insomnia wasn’t new for her. In fact, since discovering that her ex was a killer and having her whole life upended, Ana didn’t think she’d actually had one full night’s sleep.

She pulled the door shut behind her. Crept down the stairs. Normally when she couldn’t sleep, she’d head downstairs. She’d play the harp. The music soothed her. Settled her. Typically the routine let her unwind enough to go back to bed.

So when she stepped off the staircase, Ana turned on the downstairs lights, and she went straight to the harp. But she didn’t pluck the strings. Just stared at it. Same time. Two a.m. She always came down right around two a.m. That was her middle-of-the-night wake-up time. Maybe because…

Once upon a time, I was with Logan. I woke up, and he wasn’t there. I slipped down the hallway. I went looking for him. Found him in the basement. I was just about to call his name.

Then she’d realized he wasn’t alone.

And by the time she’d realized that fact, he’d just cut the throat of the man who’d been in the basement with him.

Too late. Too late. Too. Late.

So now she woke up at two a.m. Always trying to stop a murder that had happened long ago.

Her fingers hovered over the harp strings.

She wouldn’t play tonight. Kane needed his rest, and, even with the bedroom door shut upstairs, he might hear the music and wake up.

Her shoulders sagged a little bit as she turned away from the harp.

Instead of touching the strings, her fingers reached out and tugged open the drapes in front of the nearby window.

One of the big, floor-to-ceiling windows that sat in the front of her house and gave her such a beautiful view of the beach.

On full moon nights, she’d leave her drapes open while she played.

She’d look out and see the reflection of the moon on the water, and peace would settle in to chase out the fear that she felt.

“Are you going to play something?”

Ana jumped. She whirled around, with her hand flying to cover her heart.

Kane stepped off the staircase. “Sorry.” Gruff. “Didn’t mean to scare you.”

How could someone so big move so soundlessly? It should have been impossible for him to sneak up on her.

“I was worried when you left the bed. Wanted to make sure you were all right.” He advanced slowly, inexorably toward her. “You still wake up every night around two, huh?”

Of course, he would remember that. Ana’s hand fell away from her heart. “I’m sure I’ll stop. Eventually.”

“Will you?” Soft.

“I had a shrink who offered to prescribe medicine so that I could sleep through the night.”

“But you didn’t take the pills.” He kept advancing.

“But I didn’t take the pills.” He was nearly right in front of her.

Wearing his sweats again. They hung low on his hips, and his bare chest was close enough to reach out and touch.

They’d had sex, insanely wonderful sex, but that felt like a dream.

Embarrassed, shy, unsettled, she eased away and sat down on the stool that she used when playing her harp.

Her fingers stretched out and strummed lightly over the strings.

“Why didn’t you take the pills? They could have helped you.”

“They would have knocked me out completely. If someone came inside when I was taking them, I might not be able to wake up.” More soft strumming.

Music drifted in the air. Beautiful, but sad.

She hadn’t intended to play anything sad.

Her fingers stilled. “If I can’t wake up, then I’m too easy of a target. ”

“Do you still dream of the dead man?”

The victim she’d seen. With the knife shoved into his throat and the blood pouring down his shirtfront as he tried to scream.

A sound that would never break from him.

“I dream that I arrive too late, as always. The knife is in him, the blood is everywhere, and the man I’d been sleeping with is the one who is the monster. ”

Kane crouched beside her. “It’s not your fault that man is dead. He was involved with the mob, too. He’d stolen from the wrong people. Gotten on Logan’s hit list as a result. The man could have gone to the Feds. He could have turned on the power players. He could have gotten a new life.”

“Like me?”

He reached out. Tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “You’re not like him.”

Because she wasn’t dead. Didn’t have a knife shoved into her throat. Check. But she had turned on Logan and his associates. She’d worn a wire. Done the undercover bit. Sent Logan to prison.

Got a new life as payment.

A muscle flexed along Kane’s jaw as he crouched before her. “Does it help you to play?” Careful words. A careful touch of his fingers against her cheek. “When you tiptoe down here in the middle of the night and you go to your harp, does it help?”

“Music therapy.” A wan smile tipped at her lips. “It can soothe the soul. I play and the demons leave me and the fear goes away, and, after a while, I can go back upstairs and close my eyes again.” That was her long-winded way of saying…yes. Yes, it helped. More than anything else ever had.

“Music is supposed to soothe the savage beast, isn’t it?” Kane lingered before her. “Pretty sure that’s an old saying.”

“It’s, um, a little wrong.”

He lifted a brow.

She licked her lips and quoted, “ Music hath charms to soothe a savage breast, to soften rocks, or bend a knotted oak. ”

He blinked.

“Breast, not beast.” She smiled at him. A real smile. “It’s something we all get wrong. It came from a really old play, one called The Mourning Bride. I always figured it was talking about how music can soothe anyone, even those with too much pain and rage in their hearts.”

A nod. Considering. “I always thought I was the beast in our story.”

She sucked in a surprised breath. “Our story?”

“Yeah. Yours and mine. You’re the beauty. You have all the grace. The delicacy.”

Ana shook her head. He was so wrong.

Kane pulled back his hand. Stared at it. Curled his powerful hand into a fist and turned it over. “I was always bigger than everyone else. Always rougher. I’ll break every damn thing in a store if I’m not careful. I’ll break everything in my life.”

Her hand flew out and curled around his fist. “You’re not a beast, Kane.” He should never see himself that way. It was certainly not how she saw him.

“Sure I am, sweetheart. I’m the beast who would rip apart the world to protect you.”

He was still crouched before her, one knee on the floor. She wanted to throw her arms around him. To hold tight.

“That’s the job, isn’t it?” Kane rumbled.

Her heart seemed to shrivel.

“Protecting you. Destroying anyone who comes after you. It’s the reason Gray wanted me in the first place. He’s always appreciated the way I fight dirty.”

Of course. She let go of his hand. He was protecting her because Gray had called Kane back into service. Because she was the current job. Kane wasn’t doing the protecting and defending bit because he was hung up on her.

Fucking and loving were two different things.

And that was fine. She didn’t still love him. She’d gotten over that roller coaster of emotion long ago.

“Ana?”

Her head turned away from him. Blindly, she stared at the harp strings.

Then she scooted closer to the harp, nestling her shoulder beneath it.

“It’s a lever harp. Thirty-six strings. Fifty-four inches tall.

” A slow release of her breath. “You’ve probably felt the calluses on my fingertips from the harp strings.

But, then again, I had calluses from my violin, too.

” That was just part of the price to be paid in order to play.

She’d had calluses on her fingers for as long as she could remember.

“Ana, did I say something wrong?”

No, he’d just said the truth. Instead of answering, she began to play. Slowly. Softly. Then hitting deeper notes. Going faster.

He rose. Moved to stand behind her. Between her and the drapes that she’d left open just a bit.

She could feel his eyes on her. Watching her every move.

Her fingers moved faster, the movements automatic for her as she closed her eyes and sank into the music.

She didn’t usually have anyone watching her when she played the harp. Just her and the music.

But this time, it was different. The song was different.

She poured all of her emotions into the music. Pain and fear.

I almost died in that aquarium. The attacks just won’t stop.

Anger and betrayal.

Logan said he loved me, but he was a killer. Hiding his evil behind a smile.

Sorrow and…hope.

I wanted more. Wanted more from Kane. Wanted a real life and someone who would love me.

Love.

Something real. Something deep. Not just sex. Not fleeting. But for always. For ? —

A roar of an engine reached her, growling over the notes of the harp.

Her fingers stumbled. The music clanged.

She glanced toward Kane, but he’d spun to face the window. Alarm flared, threatening to choke her. “Kane?”

She should relax. It was probably just some kids, driving hard and loud late at night or maybe someone with a souped up truck.

“Down!” Kane roared.

Only Ana didn’t have time to get down. He was already launching at her. Kane flew toward her. Their bodies collided even as she heard the fast explosion of gunfire. Blasting again and again.

Ana screamed.

Her window shattered. First one window, then another as gunfire slammed into the front of her house. The glass flew inward.

She was already on the floor, with Kane on top of her. The glass rained down around them even as the screech of tires shrieked in the night, and the vehicle squealed away.

She couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe. Kane crushed her. Covered her completely. And he…

Her hand rose to press against his arm. “Kane?” Barely a breath of sound.

She knew she’d screamed his name before.

Her fingers slid down his arm. “I think they’re gone.”

Her fingers were wet. Ana’s heart raced even faster.

Her fingers were definitely wet. Wet and red. Red covered her fingertips. Red coming from Kane. Blood.

No, no, no. “ Kane? ”

His head lifted. His hands pressed into the floor on either side of her body as he levered himself up. “You are not hurt.” A statement, not a question.

She grabbed for him.

“You are not hurt, ” he said again. Sharper. Harder. More determined.

“No, dammit, I’m not!” Because she’d had a giant bodyguard fling himself on top of her. Ana held up her blood-covered fingers. “But you are!”