Her Irresistible Protector. Michelle Douglas

paled.

      ‘I do not want to be here with you.’ She’d almost struck him! ‘What are my other options?’

      ‘There’s a safe house in Hornsby. You’d need to remain inside at all times, hidden.’ He swung away, raked a hand back through his hair. ‘I remembered how active you were—how much you hated being cooped up—and figured you’d prefer being out here.’

      She swore and sat, rested her head in her hands for a bit. They couldn’t go on like this. She’d almost hit him! The thought of being cooped up in a hot sweaty suburb didn’t appeal one bit, though, either.

      What on earth had happened to polite distance?

      She lifted her head. She dragged in a breath. ‘What kind of sandwiches did you make?’

      ‘Ham and tomato.’

      Her favourite. She reached into the basket and took one. ‘Thank you.’ But it came out stilted.

      He sat then too, but he kept the basket between them. Wise. Very wise.

      ‘I’m sorry.’

      She didn’t want an apology. She wanted him gone. You can’t have that. Get over it.

      ‘If I have this wrong and you’d prefer the safe house just say the word.’

      She considered it. Seriously considered it. She stared at the beach, the surf, the sky. Eventually she shook her head. ‘This,’ she gestured to the beach, ‘is better.’

      A heavy silence descended.

      Would you like to clear the air?

      She set down her sandwich. Would it help?

      Her chest cramped as she looked at him. ‘Do you know I never trusted another man after what you did?’

      He bowed as if buffeted by a sudden breeze. ‘Tash.’

      Her name groaned out of him and she didn’t answer the incredulity in his voice. She couldn’t.

      He raked both hands back through his hair. ‘Jesus, Tash, you were just a kid!’

      She stiffened at that. ‘What? You don’t think a seventeen-year-old can truly love?’ She’d loved him with her whole heart. She’d never felt as intensely, as passionately, as deeply about any man. Not before. Not since.

      She never wanted to feel that way again. When she thought he’d returned her feelings she’d been on top of the world. When she’d found out he’d used her to gain information that had led to Rick’s arrest...

      Betrayed didn’t begin to describe it. No amount of jubilation, not the highest of highs, was worth that kind of devastation.

      He turned to her, his face grey. ‘I’m sorry, truly sorry. I thought...I thought you’d get over it. I thought you’d treat it as a light flirtation. It wasn’t until afterwards I realised how much I’d hurt you.’

      ‘Light flirtation?’ She stared at him in disbelief. ‘Mitch, seventeen-year-old girls don’t treat anything as light except, perhaps, parental rules.’

      Which was why she’d sneaked out to meet Mitch that night. It was why she’d taken him to Cheryl’s party. A party that had been raided as soon as Mitch’s suspicions that cannabis was present were confirmed. Until that night she’d kept her ‘romance’ with Mitch a secret from everyone. Because he’d asked her to. Because it was the one bright thing she could hold onto when everything else around her was shabby and tacky. She hadn’t wanted to let reality intrude.

      In hindsight, what he’d been doing had become obvious, only she’d been too besotted at the time to see it, too distracted by the presents he’d brought her—chocolates, books and knick-knacks that she’d treasured. She’d been too awed by the attention he’d paid her, too thrilled by the desire in his eyes. Too consumed by the physical mayhem he’d created in her.

      She’d been altogether too stupid, too gullible and too naïve. But she’d learned her lesson—trust no one.

      ‘I was twenty-two and I thought I knew everything.’ He gave a laugh that scraped her nerve-endings raw.

      Twenty-two? He’d seemed like a god to her back then. She’d forgotten how young he’d been too.

      ‘But I got a lot of things wrong, Tash.’

      She wouldn’t argue with that, but something in his tone had her swinging to him. ‘Like?’ The question was out before she knew it.

      He stared down at his hands and then out at the water. He didn’t wear sunglasses to shade his eyes and she could see the lines fanning out from their corners. He must be what—thirty, now? He was too young for so many lines.

      And just like that her heart started to burn for him.

      She stiffened and took another bite of her sandwich. She wasn’t forgiving him.

      ‘When I first started in the police force I was hungry to save the world.’ His lips twisted. ‘You can translate that into hungry for promotion if you like.’

      ‘Which is why nailing Rick on drug charges was such a coup for you.’

      He nodded.

      Hungry to save the world? She scowled at the water. He hadn’t saved. He’d only destroyed. The sad thing was, he didn’t know just how much he’d destroyed. And even now she couldn’t tell him. Wouldn’t tell him.

      ‘So you must be pleased with yourself these days.’ She rested back on one hand as if she didn’t have a care in the world. As if they were talking about nothing more innocuous than the weather. ‘Moving up through the ranks as you have with such commendable speed.’

      ‘You’d think so.’

      She frowned and moistened her lips.

      ‘But I got you wrong, Tash. I misjudged what I’d need to do, what I’d need to sacrifice, to rise up through the ranks and make a difference. I don’t know if you remember this, but the day Rick was found guilty and was sentenced you turned to me with such a look in your eyes.’

      The look had been heartbreak. Her eyes burned. ‘It didn’t stop you then and it hasn’t stopped you now.’ And she’d best not forget that.

      He was quiet for a long moment. ‘Some things are worth fighting for. I happen to think the law and justice are two of those things.’

      ‘And if someone gets hurt in the crossfire?’

      ‘In the interests of the greater good then...’ He hesitated. ‘I won’t pretend that I don’t regret it.’

      The innate ruthlessness chilled her.

      A seagull landed nearby. It squawked at them, obviously hoping they’d throw some scraps. She went to toss it her crust but Mitch’s hand on her arm stopped her. She froze beneath his touch.

      ‘It’s cruel to feed them. Their digestive systems aren’t designed to eat bread...or chips,’ he added, referring to the tourist habit of tossing gulls hot salted chips.

      She nodded and he removed his hand and she found she could breathe again, although her heart pounded harder than the occasion demanded. ‘Why on earth did you want to be a policeman anyway?’

      His face darkened. He stared out to sea. ‘I haven’t told anyone this before. But if anyone deserves to know it’s you.’

      He turned and she may as well have not been wearing sunglasses at all. Her breath became trapped by the lump in her throat. The lump stretched into a painful burn that made her eyes sting. And all she could remember was the way his hands had cupped her face eight years ago and how utterly she’d given her heart to him.

      ‘No,’ she croaked.

      He frowned. ‘No?’

      Clear the air? She gave a harsh laugh that made his nostrils