Tall Dark Defender. Beth Cornelison

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      His face sobered, and he pitched his voice low. “No. But I think you’ve been used as a punching bag by some bastard you once trusted.”

      Annie’s head swam, and an odd buzzing rang in her ears. She staggered drunkenly to the nearest chair and dropped onto the seat.

      Slowly, he moved toward her and crouched beside her. “Maybe a father. Maybe a husband or boyfriend. Am I right?”

      Practiced denials sprang to her tongue but shattered under the weight of his piercing gaze. She struggled to draw a breath. “How…Why would you think—”

      “Because I’ve been there.”

      Annie’s breath backed up in her lungs. She shook her head, not sure she’d heard him right. Did he mean he’d been an abuser—or been abused?

      Jonah nodded, his expression open and guileless. “I’ve seen what you’ve seen. I know the emotions you’ve known. I recognize the signs.”

      He reached for her left cheek and gently grazed her scar with his knuckle.

      Mortified, she jerked away and scoffed. “That’s from a car accident. I shattered my cheekbone and couldn’t afford a fancy plastic surgeon after the emergency surgery.”

      The lie tumbled easily from her lips, while a hurricane of confused emotions twisted inside her. Guilt, relief, embarrassment, anger, frustration…

      How did she begin to sort it all out?

      “Part of that is probably true.”

      Clenching her teeth, she shot him a tight scowl. “Are you calling me a liar?”

      He wrapped his hand around hers, and she flinched. Undaunted, he squeezed her hand. “I got good at lying about my injuries, too. To teachers, neighbors…even myself. It wasn’t easy to tell anyone my dad had a nasty temper, and he’d beat us and our mom with little provocation.”

      Icy fingers clamped around her heart. Torn between empathy and wariness, she stared into his jade eyes, searching for some hint of insincerity. But his unflinching gaze shone with compassion and honesty.

      Unsure what to do with his revelation, Annie gripped the edge of the chair and listened to the thundering of her pulse in her ears. “Why are you telling me this?”

      “I wanted you to know I understood what you’d been through, and I know how—”

      Annie stiffened, fury coursing through her blood. She shoved to her feet, balling her hands and glaring at Jonah. “Stop it! You can’t begin to know what I’ve been through! And I don’t know what your life was like growing up with a father who hurt you. Don’t you dare try to tell me—”

      “All right.” He put a hand on each of her shoulders, and she tensed, realizing the mistake she’d made.

      Her stomach knotted. Her mouth dried. Dear God, if she’d ever lost her temper and challenged Walt that way, she’d have paid dearly.

      Inhaling sharply, she held her breath, bracing for Jonah’s answering wrath.

      Instead, he murmured softly, “I’m sorry. You’re right. I only meant—”

      When a tremble raced through her, he paused, his brow lowering in a concerned frown. Cupping her chin, he lifted her face toward his, his thumb stroking her jaw.

      His tender gesture, so opposite the raw power she’d seen him display moments ago, caught her off guard. The warmth of his fingers, the crisp scent of soap that clung to him, the lulling calm in his voice had her senses reeling. Her head swam, and the heat of a blush prickled her skin.

      “Relax, beautiful. You’re safe with me. I swear it. I will never hurt you.” A husky growl of conviction emphasized his vow, a stark contrast to the tenderness of his touch.

      Annie couldn’t speak, couldn’t move. Confused emotions tangled inside her. Part of her wanted to trust Jonah and believe the warm promise in his eyes. Another part of her remembered too clearly the brute violence he’d employed defending her in the alley last night and the power behind his punches in the boxing ring only moments ago. Despite his kindness and gentle touches, she’d witnessed Jonah’s fierce strength and skill. Her body’s reaction to him was only the natural response to being near so much virile magnetism. Wasn’t it?

      When she didn’t respond, Jonah lowered his hand and stepped back. He sighed and glanced away, his expression pensive. “Annie, I asked you here because I have a bad feeling about what happened last night.”

      Sinking back onto the chair, she rubbed her throbbing temple and shoved aside distracting thoughts of Jonah’s allure. “That makes two of us. Hardin isn’t likely to forget the money I lost any time soon. He’s going to make my life miserable until I repay him.”

      Jonah popped his knuckles restlessly and frowned. “I wasn’t referring to Hardin.”

      She glanced up. “What do you mean?”

      “I don’t think your attack was random. I think the guy who stole the money was waiting for you, that he was expecting someone to be making that delivery for Hardin.”

      A chill shimmied through her. “Waiting for me?”

      “I can’t go into detail, but…I have reason to believe the money you were delivering was profits from a gambling ring that Hardin had laundered through the diner’s accounts.”

      Her stomach seesawed. Annie’s emotions had spun in every conceivable direction in the past few minutes, but Jonah’s claim made her head reel. Hands shaking, she hugged herself and drew a ragged breath.

      “The man who mugged you may have intended to kill you so that you couldn’t make an ID. Or Hardin may have picked you to make the delivery because he thought you’d be least likely to talk, that he could keep you quiet through intimidation. Or…there are other scenarios possible, but they all boil down to this—you’re involved now. You’re in danger.”

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