Once the thought hit him, his systems vibrated. He swallowed, trying to clear the tightness in his throat.
“You dyed your hair,” he said softly.
And cursed himself for choosing those words over others. Shit words.
She didn’t respond. She still trembled.
He needed a response, demanded one. “Why were you fighting like I was about to kill you?”
Had he really frightened her that much?
She slowly leaned back, and he missed her against him but relaxed knowing he didn’t have to offer comfort anymore. He didn’t know how. His immediate response was to offer her his touch his flesh, and that was the last thing he wanted to do. Ever. Especially to her.
He could make her feel good, real good if he did that. He could blow her mind and fuck it sideways, but he’d end up losing her in the process. She’d eventually come back for more, again and again. He couldn’t do that to her. Even the good stuff was still poison in the end.
She leaned back even more but still wouldn’t look up at him.
He knew he should give her space but he didn’t fucking want to. If she ran from him and went to Raul, Hysterian would lose his mind.
“I was startled,” she said, quiet as a mouse.
“That was more than being startled. You were fighting for your life,” he corrected.
“I want to go. Please move, Captain.”
Irritation surged. She was acting like nothing strange had just happened. “You’re not going anywhere until you explain to me exactly why you reacted like that.”
“I…” She turned her head to the side, exhaustion etched into her face.
“You?” he prompted.
“I was scared.”
His fingers curled into his palms. Of course she was scared. He’d grabbed her, and for what reason, he had no idea. It wasn’t like he could touch her, strip her, kiss her. He’d grabbed her so she would be inhisarms, not Raul’s. Hysterian’s jaw ticked.
The only solution, he decided, was to get Raul out of the picture and off his ship. Hysterian couldn’t have her running to someone else, especially another man.
“I’m scared of you,” she whispered.
His gaze narrowed. “Have I done something to frighten you enough that you would think I would kill you?”
She shuddered, and his brow creased.
Did I?
“It doesn’t matter.” She pushed at his chest; he didn’t budge. “I just reacted, and now I’m tired. Please let me leave.”
“No.”
Her eyes finally found his. “No?”
“If you won’t tell me what’s wrong—and I will find out, Alexa—you can’t leave. I don’t plan on hurting you, nor can I recall a time where you might think that I might.”
“And telling me we’re going to fuck and that there’s nothing I can do about it isn’t frightening?”
“Is that why you’re scared? Of the goddamned inevitable?”
Her lips pressed together tight.
