“Well, my freshman year at Northwestern, someone was… well, she was assaulted at a frat party and it… changed me.”

Alex’s fingers were still around Angel’s hand as he replaced his wine glass by his plate and turned his full attention on her. “Oh, I’m sorry. Was it Becca?”

“Mmmm, uh uh.” She shook her head, and then stopped, eyes flashing up to his. His face was concerned, interested, focused.

“What happened?” he asked softly.

“We were at a party, we had drinks, and someone drugged her.” Angel looked away quickly. “She was raped.”

Alex ran the back of his fingers across her wrist. “Oh, my God. I see.”

His touch was comforting and his company wrapped around her like her favorite quilt.

Angel shook her head again as she regained her senses. “She was too scared to call the police, afraid that her friends and family would be ashamed of her, afraid they’d think it was her fault. So, I wanted to be in a position to put bastards like that behind bars, or help anyway, with situations like that.”

Alex nodded silently and reached out to brush her cheek the same way he had her wrist. It was so gentle and surprising. She wondered if he understood.

“Alex, tell me more about your parents and sister. You only talked about your brother last evening.”

It was clear to him that she wanted the subject changed and he sensed she was hedging. Some nondescript emotion flitted over her delicate features and it pained him. He quickly cleared his throat. “My father is a brilliant businessman, and my mother is a beautiful, caring woman. She and my sister, Allison, do a lot of philanthropic work when they’re not messing in my personal life.” He chuckled softly as he continued to enjoy his meal. “Which is often.”

“I sense you’re all very close. Are they all in the area?”

“Mmmm.” Alex nodded. “Allison’s husband is in insurance, and though my parents take two extended trips a year, most of the time they are here. They still live on the same estate that they purchased when I was in high school. It’s quite beautiful. My father worked very hard, and Mom kept it up perfectly. When I first saw you last spring, we were buying stuff to redecorate the sunroom of that house.” His eyes watched her face carefully. “He wants to move, to buy her houses in a few locations worldwide, but she won’t hear of it. I told her that she can still nag me wirelessly, but she thinks I’m kidding. Plus, she loves that house.”

Angel smiled at his humor, drawn in by the softness of his voice, the warmth of his enveloping nearness. “That sounds nice. My dad,” she sighed, “I can’t get him to leave the sticks. Joplin was a nice place to grow up, but there is so much more that I’d like him to see.”

“You miss him.” It wasn’t a question, his expression understanding.

“All the time.” Angel wasn’t eating much of her dinner and it didn’t go unnoticed by the man beside her. He could see her mind whirling behind her furrowed brow as she watched her fork push her food around the plate. “Alex… about this—”

He sat back in his chair a little, not liking where he knew her words were headed. “Angel, are we having fun?”

“Fun isn’t the issue,” she dropped off quietly. “Is it?”

Alex was unsure what to say, wondering how this woman, who always had words aplenty, seemed at a loss in the current moment. “Isn’t it?”

She reached for the wine to refill their glasses. “Is it?”

He picked up his glass and concentrated on the liquid as he swirled it in a miniature cyclone, carefully considering his words.

“Why did you agree to dinner the other night if you didn’t want to know more? Would I be here if you don’t enjoy my company?”

Her eyes flashed to his face. “I do. But—”

“What are you afraid of?”

“Nothing!” Angel answered quickly and then bit her lip. “I’m just realistic, Alex.”

“What are you trying to say, Angel? Just spit it out.”

“Okay. If you want to fuck for the sake of fucking, I can do it for a while. But if you want to get to know me, we can’t have sex.” She shrugged and smiled, her brows arching in challenge.

Alex pushed his plate away as he burst out laughing. “What? Intimacy on only one level at a time, eh?”

“Sex isn’t intimacy.”

Alex instantly sobered. “It is with us.” His green eyes bore into hers, unflinchingly daring her to dispute him. “You’re afraid of me, Dr. Hemming.”

“No, I’m realistic.” She knew she was lying to herself and to him. “I don’t believe in what you represent. However, against my better judgment, I find you very—” she looked away. “—you’re charming and likeable, even though my brain screams you’re a womanizer. So if we want to be mutual users for a while, fine.”

Alex paused, the laughter dying in his chest. “Is that truly how you see me? I thought I’d been clearer.”

“I get it. After knowing you a little better, I understand more. I don’t necessarily agree with your arrangements but I can see your point of view, even if it still differs from mine.”

“What differs? We’re attracted to each other, and we enjoy our time together. Can we just let what happens, happen?”

“Nope.”

“Nope? That’s it?”

“We can’t let it happen. I’m attracted to you. Not gonna lie. You’re funny and charming and all the wonderful shit dreams are made of; except one thing. You don’t feel. Call me crazy. That’s huge.” She flitted between the dining room and the kitchen as she methodically cleared the table, ranting as she went. Alex was amused and mesmerized.

“Do you dream of me, Angel? And I do feel. I love my dog.”

Lucky damn dog. “Shut up and focus.”

Alex grinned and a big smile split out on Angel’s face, even though she was trying to be serious. He thought she was the most beautiful, sexiest thing he’d ever seen, glasses and all.

He cleared his throat and sat up straighter, mocking her. “Yes, ma’am.”

“I don’t know if I trust you.”

Alex shut his mouth and looked at her. He knew closing the deal meant shutting down the argument that sprung to his lips. Angel cocked her head.

“I know you could just be messing with me to get me back for the ridiculous notion I made that twit breakup with you, but let me assure you, it wasn’t me… it was you.”

“Okay. It was me,” he agreed good-naturedly.

Angel stopped and glanced back over her shoulder on her last trip to the kitchen, to roll her eyes at him.

“You’re agreeing with me? So you will tell me, Alex Avery, what the fuck you’re up to.”

“Okay.” This time it was softer and more persuasive. Her steps slowed on her way back.

“Okay? It was that easy?”

“Yes, okay.” His expression was sardonic, amused. “Let’s take the wine and go in the other room, and I’ll tell you anything you want to know.”

* * *

Two hours, two bottles of wine, and lots of laughter later, the two of them ended up on some big pillows on the floor in front of her sofa, on their sides face-to-face and their feet tangled.

Quiet and serious, Alex’s hand finally reached out to touch her, pushing a tendril back behind her ear. She closed her eyes as the back of his knuckles brushed across her cheekbone. She drew in a long breath, reveling in the wonder of the sensation. It was light, warm… electric.

“Alex,” she began as her eyes found his.

“Shhh… you said I could touch a little.” His open palm moved over her shoulder and then, with slight squeezing massage, down her arm. It was dark with only the glow of the muted television to cast a blue glow around the room. His eyes were darker and more intense. Maybe it was desire that filled his gaze, and she found herself hoping… wanting, her body involuntarily leaning toward his.

“Angel, tell me who did that to you in college,” he said it softly, but his tone was demanding. “Who could hurt you like that?”

“How do you know? I mean…” Angel began to withdraw, but his hold tightened, keeping her close.

Alex shrugged slightly and his brow furrowed. The muscle in his jaw twitched. “I just know. Just tell me who it was, so I can kill the motherfucker.”

Angel’s eyes stung with tears as they began to glisten. Alex hadn’t moved other than to keep rubbing her arm and to finally bring her hand up to his mouth for a soft, open-mouthed kiss on the inside of her wrist.

“I can’t.”

“Yes, you can. Trust me.” His fingers continued over the flesh of her arm and shoulder, up behind her neck as he applied gentle pressure and squeezed.

Angel saw understanding and sadness in Alex’s eyes that propelled her to share something that she’d never told anyone, save Becca.

“No.” She shook her head. The waver in her voice broke as a tear slid from each eye. “I mean I trust you. But I can’t tell you who it was. I don’t know.”

Confusion filled his features. “What? How?”

“I told you. I was drugged. Ruffies. I don’t remember any part of it. Except the next morning. I woke up in a bedroom alone, missing my clothes and…”

Alex’s chest was feeling constricted and fire rushed under his skin. “And?”

“And, there was blood.”

He sighed heavily and leaned his forehead against hers, his hand coming up to cup her cheek. “I’m so, so sorry. You should be worshiped, not abused. Sweetheart, I’m sorry.”

“Stop,” she whispered. “You didn’t do it. I’m sorry about it, too, but at least I don’t remember experiencing it. If it hadn’t happened, my life would be different, and I would have made different choices. I wouldn’t be helping anyone.”

Alex studied her face, searching her expression for anything that would signify she was telling the truth about reconciling with it. He was speechless as he stared into her glittering brown eyes, and then moved a soft strand of hair back behind her ear. She was so strong. Alex felt his admiration for her grow even more.