I took it off quickly, draping it over her shoulders, and she pulled it tight around her, letting her eyes shutter closed for a second.
“I’m too tired and too drunk for this shit. Are you a serial killer, Roman?”
“No.”
“Are you going to hurt me?”
“No. I’m trying to keep you safe. Let me take you home.”
She scrunched her nose adorably. “Where’s your car?”
6
ROMAN
I openedthe passenger side door of my Range Rover and waited while she climbed in before running around to the driver’s side. Minutes later, we were driving out of town, Hana still wrapped up in my coat, staring out of the window.
“Sorry if I was a bitch back there.” She pulled her ponytail over her shoulder, twisting the ends between her fingers. The movement sent a ripple of her perfume through my car, the scent tickling my senses and thickening my cock.
“Did you try to punch me in the throat?” I checked, letting out another unfamiliar chuckle. Taking my eyes off the road, they darted sideways to graze over her for a second, seeing her shrug.
“I know a bit of self-defence, and you deserved it. You came out of nowhere.Again.”
“Sorry. I was just worried about you.” I tried to keep my tone soft. I knew how I looked, and she had every right to be nervous, but I’d rather die than harm a hair on her head. However, I couldn’t exactly explain that to her.
“When you just happened to notice me at the exact minute I left the club… I’m still not convinced. What were you doing at work at 1 am anyway? What do you do?”
“I’m in IT. I work funny hours. I have clients all over the world.” I mean, it wasn’t a total lie.
“Hhhhmmmm.”
“What?”
“It just feels a little weird. I’m not a damsel in distress, Roman. I’ve been taking care of myself for a really long time. I don’t need someone with a hero complex stepping in and trying to take care of me. In fact, I’d fucking hate it.”
“Noted.”
I focused my attention back on the road, not wanting to piss her off any more than I obviously had.
She let out a sigh. “Never had breakfast in bed, never had someone spoon me while I sleep, and I’ve certainly never had someone care if I got home okay.” She was mumbling now, and I wondered if she knew she was saying this out loud, but hearing how alone she’d been broke my heart. And what was worse was that I took the one person she had, and I’d kept everyone else away since I found her six years ago.
I should have kept quiet, but a sick need to hear her story, despite knowing most of it, made the question fall from my lips. “You don’t have family?”
She let out a hollow laugh. “My mum died when I was eight. We lived with my stepfather, who was,”—she paused, and I could see her fiddling with the hem of her skirt out of the corner of my eye—“a selfish fucker. Luckily, I had my older brother, who took as good care of me as a teenage boy is capable of doing.”
“You don’t see him anymore?” The question burnt my throat because I knew the answer.
“No. He died. I lost him when I was fifteen. He went to prison and refused any visitors. He was two years into his sentence when there was a riot. He was stabbed and bled out before they could get anyone to him.”
I pulled up outside her house and unfastened my seatbelt so I could turn to look at her. “I’m sorry,” I whispered.
She plastered a fake smile on her face that didn’t reach her eyes. “Did you get him locked up or arrange the riot that got him killed?”
I didn’t reply. I guessed she’d thought it was a rhetorical question, but the shame of my past raged in my chest so intensely, I was sure I’d burst into flames. While I might not have arranged the riot, he did take the wrap for a crime I’d been involved in. I walked away. He ended up dead.
She glanced over at her house and then back at me, tilting her head with a puzzled expression on her face. “Did I tell you where I lived?”
I paused before shaking it off. “Small town. Everyone’s been talking about the new girl moving into the empty cottage.”
