She swallowed. It was a big house for a single guy. She looked at him. He’d shed his jacket and tossed it over a stool. As she watched, he rolled the sleeves of his blue shirt up, showing off his tattooed forearms.
Badass in off-mode.
Her belly flooded with heat, and memories of their kiss swamped her. Saxon had kissed her. And it had been the hottest kiss of her life. Places inside her were still tingling.
She watched him pull out some glasses, then a bottle of amber liquid. He poured a splash into each glass, then walked over and handed her one.
He touched the rim of his glass to hers. “I think you need this.”
She nodded and then she tossed it back. The whiskey burned down her throat.
“My apartment.” Her voice cracked. Oh, God.
He reached out and touched her hair. “Willow led them straight to you.”
“She didn’t mean to—”
“Stop making excuses for her.”
Gia made an angry sound and stalked to the windows. “I know she screwed up, but she’s my friend.”
“You’re too damn loyal.”
Gia spun. “I’m not like you.” She flung a hand out. “Do whatever you want, have fun, stay removed, then move on.” She’d seen the way he discarded women. Usually glossy, leggy blondes.
A muscle ticked in his jaw.
She had no right to judge his lifestyle. She sighed. “I’m poor company tonight, Saxon, and I’m in a really bad mood. God, I’ve lost all of my things.” She set the glass down on the table and pressed her face to her hands, despair and sadness tangling through her. “My apartment meant something to me.”
Suddenly, strong arms wrapped around her, holding her tight.
Desperate for more, she pressed her face to his firm chest and held on. Her hands clutched the back of his shirt, fisting against hard muscles. She breathed him in. Saxon’s scent always made her think of thunderstorms and crashing waves.
“It’s just stuff, baby,” he murmured.
She nodded. God, she was getting comfort from Saxon Buchanan.
Then she heard a cell phone ringing and realized it was hers.
She pulled away. When she grabbed the phone, she saw a number she didn’t recognize. “Hello?”
“Gia.”
Her hand clenched. “Willow.”
Saxon’s face hardened.
“Oh, God, Gia.” Willow sounded panicked.
“Are you all right?”
“I need the gems. Now.”
Gia’s belly turned in a sickening circle. “Someone broke into my place, Will.” Saxon’s hand landed on her shoulder, squeezed.
Willow’s breath hitched. “Gia…”
“They followed you, Willow. They attacked me and ransacked my place. I’m sorry, but the gems are gone. And it wasn’t Dennett.”
Harsh breathing came across the line. Willow made a strangled sound. “I’m dead.”
“We’ll work it out—”
“I’m dead, Gia.” There was a cry, then the line went dead.
Gia felt the prick of tears.
“This isn’t your fault,” Saxon said.
“It feels like it. She’s scared.”
“She brought this on herself.”
“Saxon, have some compassion.”
He leaned in close. “That dried up when she put you in danger.”
Gia bit her lip. Emotions welled up inside, and it was all too much.
She pulled away, striding across his gorgeous living area. The lights of the city blurred, and she wondered where Willow was. Where the gems were.
She sensed Saxon behind her. “Gia.”
“Don’t start, Saxon. I don’t have the defenses to duel with you right now.”
“Then let me show you to your room. You can run a bath and relax.”
“God.” She faced him. “Do not be nice to me. I need asshole Saxon back.”
He crossed his arms over his chest, which just drew her attention back to his muscular arms and tattoos.
“And stop looking so hot, too,” she snapped.
His brows drew together. “Gia—”
“I’m used to you finding my faults and rubbing them in my face. So, fire away. Tell me this is my fault.”
“I don’t enjoy rubbing your face in your faults. And this is not your fault.”
“You do. You’ve always picked on me and made me lose my temper. Ever since I was young.”
“So I’d quit noticing you when I shouldn’t,” he bit out.
Gia blinked. “What?”
He smiled. “And I like riling you because it’s so easy to do. You get so fired up and passionate.”
She scowled. “Saxon—”
“You need to stop moping about Willow and what happened at your place. Deal with it.”
Ah, there was the Saxon she knew. “God, you can be cold.”
“You need to—”
Gia’s temper flared. It was easier to be angry than sad and upset. “Stop telling me what to do!”
He grabbed her arms.
“And hands off,” she snapped.
“That’s not what you wanted earlier.”
She glared at him. “We aren’t talking about that kiss…ever.”
“We’ll be doing more than kissing soon.”
His words sent her pulse haywire. “I hate you.”
“I’m trying to help you,” he said.
“I don’t need your help. What do you know about suffering? About being stuck in a bad situation? You were born into money and had everything—”
“Not everything.”
The cold tone of his voice made Gia freeze.
He stepped closer. “You don’t know everything about me, Gia.”
She stared at him, wondering at the shadows moving through his eyes. “Saxon…”
“No. I think we’ve reached our limits on deep and meaningful tonight. Come on, I’ll show you to your room.”
Gia pushed her hair back. She was running on fumes, exhausted. She just wanted to curl up and pretend the world didn’t exist for a while. She was usually take-charge, a problem solver. She liked to grab a problem by the horns and face it down, but right now, she didn’t have the energy to do that. She wished she could lean on someone and know that they would catch her.
She drew herself up. “Okay.”
He led her downstairs. Then he paused, several steps down so that they were eye level.
“You don’t have to worry tonight, Gia. I’ll keep you safe.”
The tight knot in her chest eased a little. “I told you to stop being nice to me.”
Instead, he just tucked a curl back behind her ear.
* * *
Saxon woke to the smell of coffee. He blinked at the ceiling above his bed.
It was rare that he brought anyone back to his place, and if he did bring a woman back, they never stayed for a cozy breakfast.
Rising, he pulled on a pair of loose, black pajama pants, and went to wash his face and brush his teeth.
He went upstairs to the kitchen and his chest tightened.
Gia stood at his huge island, one hip pressed against it. She was wearing a tiny, silky robe in a dusty pink that left her slender legs bare. And her hair… Jesus. It was all piled up on her head, dark curls everywhere. She sipped her coffee, then glanced his way.