The door opened and her gaze automatically dropped to the man walking through. He wore a black suit, his shirt bright white and stark against his tanned skin. He wasn’t wearing a tie, the top button open, showing a dusting of dark hair. Lifting her gaze, she took in the grim set to his lips, his neatly trimmed beard, the strong crooked nose. Last, her gaze landed on his thick, darkly lashed brown eyes—that were locked on her.

Her stomach dropped, and she actually stumbled back a step. The guy beside her, who up until that point had still been flapping his jaw, grabbed her elbow to steady her. “Hey, are you okay?”

She straightened. “I’m fine.”

His forehead creased. “You’re sure?”

What the hell was Reid doing here?

Then she saw her sister watching from the sidelines, guilt plastered all over her traitorous face. It wasn’t hard to work out her errand had nothing to do with Alex and everything do with the man now heading straight for her.

Goddammit.

Heart hammering against her rib cage, she turned away and, tipping her glass up, downed the last few mouthfuls of champagne.

“Do you want another drink?” The yapper said from beside her.

She shook her head, about to decline, when she felt Reid approach, felt him move up behind her, close. So close, she could feel the heat of his body against her skin, the brush of his jacket on her bare back.

“Rusty.” The rasp of his voice skated over her flesh, causing her to shiver.

Why was he doing this to her?

“Look at me.”

She shook her head. “No. Just turn around and leave.”

“She’s fine,” Reid’s deep voice rumbled, so low it seemed to move through her. “I’ll take it from here.”

She realized he was talking to the yapper. She didn’t miss how the guy’s eyes widened fractionally before he gave a stiff nod, turned on his shiny dress shoes, and without a word strode off. Reid snorted.

“What was that?” She spun around to let him have it, but the words died in her throat when her eyes locked with his, the intensity, the hunger there plain to see.

His brows drew together. “I can’t believe you agreed to go out with that guy. He just left you here, with me. Didn’t even fight for you.”

She didn’t bother correcting him, too stunned by what she was hearing. “Like you fought for me?”

His entire body, which was already huge, seemed to grow in size, surrounding her. His hands landed on her hips, and he drew her closer. She was too stunned to move, to shove him away, her body too frickin’ happy at having him close to do anything but absorb the warmth and smell of him. “That’s why I’m here, to tell you I was wrong, to apologize for being an asshole…and yeah, to fight for you.”

His words snapped her out of her daze, and she wrapped her fingers around his wrists to push them away, but he tightened his grip, his thick fingers digging into her flesh in a way that made her breathless, needy. God, I’m pathetic. “It’s too late.”

“It’s not.” He dipped his head, resting his forehead against hers. “Let me explain, Foxy.”

“Dammit, Reid. I said it’s too late.”

He ran his nose along her cheek, kissed the skin below her ear. “It’s not,” he repeated, voice rough. “It can’t be.”

She tried to wriggle free, tried to ignore the way his voice, his words affected her, but it was no use. “You threw me away. Now you just expect me to forgive you and come back?”

“I fucked up. I got scared. And because of that, I made the wrong decision. The worst decision of my whole fuckin’ life.” Those big warm hands left her hips and slid around her waist, one resting at the small of her back, the other sliding up her spine to thread in her hair, effectively holding her immobile. “Let me explain, Rusty. Give me a chance to make it right.”

Maybe she’d lost her mind, but she wanted to hear what he had to say. He’d hurt her, badly, but deep down, no matter how hard she’d tried to deny it, she’d known there was more to it. She didn’t know much about relationships, but she knew what they had, and it was something special. Something beautiful and exciting and scary as hell. But something she couldn’t just turn her back on without hearing what he had to say first. “Fine.”

He released a breath and leaned in, those sexy lips heading for hers. Like hell. She slapped her hand over his mouth. “No kissing. There will be no goddamn kissing. You haven’t explained, and I sure as hell haven’t forgiven you.”

She felt him smile against her palm, but it didn’t meet his eyes. He slid his hand down her arm, wrapping his fingers around her wrist, and removed her hand from his mouth. “Let’s go.”

“Where?”

“My place.”

He started towing her across the restaurant toward the exit, and she yanked on his hand. “Oh, no. No, no, no. No way am I going to your place. You’ll use your sex juju on me and before I know it, I’ll be naked and in your bed, and we won’t get any talking done. You’re not going to distract me with sex. We talk here.”

His grin got wider, eyes sparkling dangerously. “Sex juju?”

“You know what I mean. Stop acting all innocent. You’re a damn sexual deviant, and you know it.”

“Good to know you find me so hard to resist.”

She ignored his comment and started walking in the other direction, heading to the small outdoor dining area she’d spotted earlier. “Out here.”

The courtyard was set up for alfresco dining, but no one was out here tonight. It was surrounded by trellises covered in red roses, their sweet scent permeating the air. Gas lanterns, placed strategically, bathed everything in a warm golden glow. She tried to ignore all of it—romantic was the last thing they needed—and headed to one of the tables. It was off to the side, out of direct view from the door, and where the lamps didn’t quite reach. She took a seat and so did Reid, but instead of taking the one across from her, he came around and sat beside her, close enough that his heavy thigh pressed against hers.

Resting his elbows on the table, he reached out and took her hand. She contemplated pulling away, but then when he turned to her, all humor gone, expression stricken, she got the feeling he needed to hold on to something…to her.

He glanced down at their linked fingers. “You know what I came from, Rusty. You’ve seen it with your own eyes.” He stared straight ahead, a troubled expression on his handsome face, but he wasn’t looking at anything in particular. He was focused inward. “My first real memory was from when I was about four, I think. I woke up in the night to my mother’s cries, to the sound of smashing glass. I remember getting out of bed and running into the living room. My mother must have locked the old man out, and he was smashing the front windows to get in. When he did, his hands were all cut up, and there was blood everywhere. It didn’t slow him down, he was so drunk I doubt he even felt it.”

His hand flexed around hers, eyes haunted “Reid, you don’t have to…”

“I need you to understand, Rusty. Just hear me out, please?”

She stayed quiet, could see how important this was to him, and waited for him to continue.

“That was the first night I watched my father beat my mother. I learned to hide pretty quickly after that, because if he saw me, if I tried to help, he’d turn those fists on me as well. I’d hide, listen to my mother’s screams, her cries for help, the sounds of him tearing the house apart. As I got older, I tried to fight back, and eventually the old man knew better than to come after me, but if I wasn’t around to protect her, he’d still take his anger out on my mom.” He squeezed her fingers in his. “Then one day, I snapped. I’d had enough. And that’s when I threw him out.”

Oh, God. She blinked and a tear slid down her face. What he must have been through, how he must have suffered. He’d been a little boy and no one had protected him. He’d been the one to protect his mother when she’d been unable to do it for herself.