“You were better off without me.” Oh, for the love of—why the hell could he not shut his mouth around her?
Her delicate jaw hardened. “I decide what’s good or bad for me. My choice. No one else’s.” She straightened her shoulders. “My brother is worrying over nothing.”
Cole would hardly call it nothing. “Harrison said you were nearly rundown in the middle of the street—”
“A careless driver. Not my previous kidnappers.”
“The driver wasn’t caught.”
“He fled the scene.” A firm nod. “But the police have a description of his vehicle. I have faith in the NYPD. I’m sure they will turn up something.”
He stared at her.
“Thanks for stopping by.”
Cole shook his head. He crossed his arms over his chest.
“I would love to say catching up with you was fun,” Evie added.
He quirked one eyebrow.
“But I don’t like to lie. In fact, I try to never lie. Mostly because I’m really bad at it.” She sniffed. “It wasn’t fun. It was as uncomfortable and awkward as I feared, and I hope our paths don’t cross again.”
Well, damn. She’d just cut him up as her voice stayed sugary sweet.
“Now, I’m going to shut the door. If you try to throw your hand up again, I’ll just shove harder. Your hand may get broken.” A shrug. “You’ve been warned.”
She slammed the door.
He heard the lock click. “That’s good,” Cole praised, raising his voice so that she’d be sure to hear him through the thick wood. “Always lock the door. Set your alarm. Be alert and vigilant. Because if you are being hunted again, you need to be on guard every single moment.”
Silence.
Was she staring at him through the peephole? Watching him?
His hands dropped back to his sides. He glanced to the left, to the right. No one else was there. They were on the top floor of the building, and she was the only tenant on that level. It wasn’t an overly fancy place, not like the high-rise where her brother lived. No, Evie had made her home in a hip, casual apartment building.
Cole had never been hip a day in his life. He was battles and bloodshed. Tattoos and fist fights.
But Evie…Evie was sophistication. Class. She was Broadway and lights. She was the kind of woman who always seemed to fit in wherever she went.
She was the woman who’d fit him. Until, of course, he’d fucked everything to hell and back. Totally part of his charm.
“Evie…” His right hand lifted and pressed to the wood of the door. “I’m sorry.”
Silence. The door didn’t open. But then, he hadn’t really expected it to open.
***
Her eye pressed to the peephole. Her left hand pressed to the door, uncomfortably close to the spot where Cole was pressing his own hand.
Damn him. He wasn’t supposed to be sexier. Time wasn’t supposed to have been kind to him. He should have gotten out of shape. Should have developed some thinning hair. Lots and lots of wrinkles.
He should not still have thick, luxurious, run-your-hands-through-it hair. He should not still have a hard, muscled body that made her quiver. He shouldn’t have seriously sexy stubble on his jaw. And no way should his eyes be that electric shade of blue. She’d convinced herself that she’d imagined just how gorgeous his eyes were. A figment of her overstressed imagination. She’d learned that, in times of stress, people tended to overemphasize certain things. Reshape some memories.
She thought she’d imagined his incredible eyes.
She hadn’t.
He was even better looking now than he had been before because, obviously, fate hated her.
She kept right on peering through the peephole. His tattoos were new. Cole wore a short sleeved, black T-shirt, and swirling, dark tattoos covered his arms. The tats looked seriously badass. Not that she was in to badass guys.
Not anymore.
Badass guys did nothing but bring trouble into her life. She was way over trouble. She wanted a nice, ordered routine. Was that so bad?
Did he have tattoos on his chest, too?
Why was she wondering about his chest?
“I’m sorry,” he said again, and a fist seemed to squeeze her heart. How often had she dreamed of him apologizing? Of him saying that he was sorry for hurting her and leaving and that he would do anything to make it up to her for—
“I’m sorry, but I was hired to do a job, and I intend to do that job.”
Her mouth dropped open. Cole wasn’t apologizing for hurting her. He was apologizing because he wasn’t leaving? What a jerk!
“I can’t leave you unprotected. I told Harrison that he could count on me, and I’m here until I can figure out just who is after you.”
He had just pushed all her buttons. Every single one with his half-ass non-apology. She nearly ripped the lock off her door as Evie flipped it and yanked that door open again—
Cole had the sheer, insane gall to toss his wide smile at her. “Figured you might open the door.”
Her index finger stabbed into his chest. “You don’t know a thing about me.”
One powerful shoulder rolled in a shrug. “I knew you’d open the door.”
She would not scream at him, but she wanted to—so badly. Did he think this meeting was a joke? Did he not get just how much he’d hurt her? She jabbed him again with her index finger. “You don’t belong in my life.”
His smile vanished. Something dark and dangerous flashed in his eyes.
She ignored the warning flash because Evie felt plenty dark and dangerous herself. “I don’t want you in my life.”
His hand rose. His fingers curled around hers. Warmth immediately shot through her hand. Up her arm. Right to her heart.
“Sorry, princess,” he murmured, “but for the foreseeable future, you have me.”
“Let go of me.” She couldn’t stand his touch. It stirred too many memories.
He immediately let her go. Took a step back.
“Do not call me princess.” She wasn’t some pampered princess. She worked hard for everything that she had. Twenty-hour days weren’t uncommon for her when she was doing a show. She would come home, dripping sweat, and every muscle aching from choreography sessions. It was her job to make the routines. She came up with the steps, the sequences. She made them look beautiful and seamless when they were really grueling and gut-wrenching. Over the years, she’d had more broken toes than she could count. She’d had enough bruises to last a lifetime. Evie wasn’t some spoiled princess. She was a flesh and blood woman, and she wasn’t putting up with his bullshit.
“I don’t want to fight with you,” Cole said softly. He lifted both his hands toward her in that old, I-surrender gesture. “I’m here because I want to keep you safe.”
“Why do you care?” He didn’t. Obviously. She should not have asked the question. But then, he shouldn’t have shown up at her door, either. Yes, she was bitter.
He’d vanished without even a backward glance. Just disappeared from her life. As if he’d never even been real.
A fantasy.
His lips thinned.
“You know what? Forget it. I don’t want an answer.” She tried to calm her racing heartbeat. “There was one near hit with a car. An accident. That stuff happens. I’ll talk to Harrison and get him to seriously chill.” Unfortunately, Harrison didn’t know how to chill. “I’m good. Now, if you don’t mind, I do have places to go.”