“We both…” He hesitates like he’s wishing he hadn’t started this topic. “We’re defensive. On the alert. Right?”
“True.” I bite my lip.
“But you know what?” Dylan says. “I’m not scared of you. And you’re not going to make me either.”
I crack a smile. “Oh, yeah?” I put my hands on my hips. “I don’t scare you even a little?”
That shadow from earlier crosses over his face again. He covers it quickly with a grin, but I know I didn’t mistake it.
Dylan is feeling vulnerable.
And from the experience we just had outside, he’s not exactly an expert at fending off unwanted attention.
“Didn’t know Tucson had this many paparazzi,” I say with a searching look at his face.
He turns red. “My agent thinks it’s great. And the media knew we were coming here this weekend. The team officials didn’t try to keep it a secret like they could have. They wanted the attention.”
“And yet, every single cameraman within five square miles of our hotel seems to have one man in their sights,” I say as I touch his hand. “You.”
“Sometimes they follow me,” he mumbles. “Not like the entertainers get followed. But you know…”
He trails off, but I finish his sentence for him. “But right now it’s hunting season. Your team just won the championship, and you were the MVP. So they’re chasing you.”
His jaw ticks. “Jasalie, I’m sorry I didn’t do a better job of getting you out of there. They took me by surprise, and they film everything. All they want is a story, so if I lose it in front of the cameras, it’ll be all over the press, and that’s the last thing you deserve. As it is, you’re probably going to see yourself in a shit tabloid somewhere. I wanted to control when the photos were taken and by whom, but some of those guys work for the low-hanging fruit tabloids.”
I shrug. “Hey, doesn’t bother me. I really don’t care what anybody thinks about me.”
Dylan’s gaze locks with mine. “I know. That’s something I really find…mesmerizing about you. I just want you to know that I would do anything to protect you.Anything.”
A caveman speech if I’ve ever heard one.
So why does it turn me on so much?
Thank God. The elevator’s here.
We ride it in silence to my floor.
“I’ll walk you to your door,” Dylan says as he gets out with me.
I slide my keycard in the lock and hold the door partway open as I turn to look at Dylan.
He looks back at me. “I’m very patient.”
I laugh nervously. “I guess you’d better be to put up with me.”
“What’s in your heart?” He reaches over and lightly touches the front of my shirt with his index finger.
As the shivers go up and down my spine, I swallow hard. “Nobody’s home there,” I say, only pretending to be joking. “Hasn’t been for a while now.” Maybe forever.
“You need a home?” he says.
Oh, you have no idea.
“In a manner of speaking,” I say, hoping to sound casual.
“I want to kiss you, Jasalie,” he says next.
My stomach does a cartwheel. “Um…” I swallow hard. “I don’t think that’s such a good idea.”
