By Request Collection 1. Jackie Braun

when she was usually warm, willing and with him on so many levels.

      A man, he was sure of it. ‘What happened, Lissa? Who hurt you?’

      ‘No one important.’ Her eyes turned dull, flat. Distant.

      A knot tightened in his chest. He touched her chin lightly and turned her head so she had no choice but to face him. ‘What did he do? Tell me,’ he demanded, when she didn’t reply.

      ‘I don’t want to talk about it.’

      ‘Would you rather I asked your brother?’

      She stiffened, her eyes widening. ‘You wouldn’t.’

      ‘If it helped, yes, I damn well would.’

      ‘Jared doesn’t know anything about him and I want to keep it that way.’ She pushed his hand away. ‘I’m not a kid and I don’t need him or anyone else to fight my battles. He was a guy I met a year ago. Todd. We had a relationship.’ Hesitation. ‘An abusive relationship. He got a real kick out of seeing me scared.’

      Anger didn’t begin to describe what boiled up inside him as he looked at Lissa. So small and delicate. So vulnerable to the wrong sort. What cowardly scum got off on scaring a woman who’d put her trust in him? Worse, Lissa had called him abusive. What else had the low-life done?

      Blake didn’t need her to tell him. His imagination filled in the rest. ‘The bastard.’

      ‘That’s what I told the cops. There was a restraining order. Haven’t seen him for months. Last I heard he’d moved interstate.’

      ‘You should’ve told Jared.’

      She shook her head. ‘No.’

      ‘Yes.’ He cupped her cheeks in both palms. ‘Why the hell not?’

      ‘Because I told you. We had a disagreement.’ Her voice was clipped. Angry. Hurting. ‘He’s made a point of not coming here unless specifically invited ever since.’ Her eyes filled with moisture. ‘And there’s a distance between us that was never there before.’

      He tightened his fingers on her face. ‘Ah, Lissa. He’s your brother and he loves you. That’ll never change.’

      ‘I know,’ she whispered, those tears spilling over.

      Lissa covered his hands with hers on her cheeks, wanting to put this conversation away before she lost what was left of her composure. ‘But the bad’s in the past and I just want to move on. In lots of ways you’ve helped me do that. And the best thing you can do for me now is not to mention it again.

      ‘You made me happy, Blake, last night and I hope I did the same for you. I haven’t felt this good in a long long time. And it’s not just the sex. It’s you.’

      ‘Lissa …’

      She could almost hear his alarm bells ringing. ‘It’s okay,’ she said quietly, drawing his hands away. ‘You’ve been a true friend in my hour of need and you’re already a great business partner, but sex does have a way of complicating things and we’ll deal with it. The thing to remember is that you’re not looking for an ongoing relationship and neither am I.’

      Except this was Blake. The man she’d never got completely out of her thoughts. She picked up her coffee, stared into its depths. She wanted what they had for as long as it lasted and her heart was so going to pay for this later, but right now she couldn’t see the thorns for the roses.

      He was silent a moment, then nodded slowly. ‘Let’s take it one step at a time, then.’ Darkly clouded eyes clashed with hers. Not the kind that wept soft rain but clouds that promised a cracking good lightning display, all light and heat and unleashed power.

      ‘The business first,’ he said. ‘We should have a launch party. Get your name out there.’

      ‘A party.’ Taking his cue, she made a concerted effort to shake off the intensity of the last few moments. ‘That’s a brilliant idea. I’ve thought of a name. Lissa’s Interior Design. Gilda—Oh-my-gosh …’

      She grabbed her mobile, checked the time and sprang off the bed, spilling crumbs over the sheet. ‘I arranged to be there in twenty minutes to check with her about the curtains. I’d better shower and get my act together.’ She took a last look at the naked man ogling her bare butt as she slid through the doorway. ‘Thank you, Blake. For every thing.’

      Blake watched the pool’s sunny reflections ripple across the ceiling. He’d been so relaxed last night he’d woken pain free from a dreamless sleep. In a bed that smelled of a warm, sated woman.

      A woman who’d been used by a man in the worst possible way.

      His fists tightened against the mattress. Pond scum. Low-life. He threw back the sheet and stalked to the window where he glared at the sun sparking off the river. Lissa wanted to forget and move on. So he’d not mention it again.

      But he wouldn’t forget.

      He turned from the view and, in an automatic move, picked up his clothes from the floor, folded them and set them on a chair. And what of Blake Everett? Was he any more worthy of someone like her? He was a wanderer. A loner. A lasting relationship for him and someone like Lissa, or anyone else for that matter, was never going to happen. Home and family weren’t in his destiny.

      Lissa, on the other hand, needed that security, that bond of family. If there was one thing he could do for Lissa before he left, it would be to get some open and honest conversation between her and Jared happening again.

      She’d told him she wasn’t looking for an ongoing relationship and he could understand why she might feel that way at present. But given time to heal, that might change.

      Whereas for them … they’d had great sex. Mutually satisfying sex.

      And mutually satisfying sex was all it was. All it could be. He refused to acknowledge anything more. He’d been cruising through life just fine on his own. Okay, his ship-mates were as close as family and navy life offered little privacy, but on shore leave or one of his rare recreational night dives—in the quiet, solitary times he’d found peace. Or close to it.

      Until last month.

      His bare toes connected with the brass bed base and pain ricocheted up his shin and he swore like the sailor he was. Yeah, he thought almost savagely, Lissa, with her sheltered upbringing, knew nothing of the murky depths beneath the surface of his civilian persona. She’d never understand the trauma of watching someone dying before her eyes and to wake up and know there’d been nothing she could have done to stop it.

      And yet she’d offered him comfort when he’d woken downstairs the other night. She’d listened. Really listened. She’d talked—sensibly, with maturity and sensitivity—about post-traumatic stress. He’d been the one to cut off the communication because he still refused to believe that was what he suffered from. Never reveal your weaknesses.

      He stared down at the place where they’d made love. Last night, lying beside her, he’d felt something he’d never experienced. Something warm, something worthwhile, like … trust?

      Jaw tightening, he turned away. No. His father had wanted nothing to do with him. His mother had been trusted to put on a good benefit show, but when it had come to her only son, she’d fallen far short. That innate trust in the love and comfort of family had been wiped clean at an early age.

      He thought of Janine. He’d fallen for her hook, line and sinker. He’d ripped out his scarred heart and laid it at her feet and she’d crushed it beneath her heel with her lies and betrayal.

      So much for trust. He would never lay himself on the line that way for anyone, ever again.

      He stalked to the bathroom and had just switched on the spray when his mobile buzzed on the bedside table. He switched the water off again, swiped a towel from the rail and went to answer it. Jared’s familiar voice caught him off guard.

      ‘Hey.