Brazen (Brazen #1)(17)

There was a wildness to the land that called to her. Untamed, sometimes harsh, but always beautiful. It was rough and unyielding, and yet it teemed with life.

She could still remember the first time she’d seen it. Really seen it. At sixteen, she’d viewed the vast acreage as the ultimate freedom. Here she could come and for miles be the only person around. She’d spent many an hour perched on a rock, knees drawn to her chest, merely experiencing the peace she so desperately needed.

And now she was home. A year away had only made home that much sweeter. She wouldn’t leave again. Not when everything she loved was right here, nestled in the beauty of Southwest Texas.

She continued snapping pictures as she topped another hill. It wasn’t until she heard Seth’s shout that she realized she’d wandered so far. She turned in the direction of his voice and saw him waving in the distance.

Tucking her camera under her arm, she started back. Seth leaned against the side of the truck watching her approach. She saw no sign of Brad. He must have left already.

“Get some good shots?” Seth asked as she got to the truck.

She smiled and nodded.

“Ready to head back or do you want to stay awhile?”

She looked at her watch. “I suppose we should head back. Carmen will be upset if we miss lunch.”

They climbed in and Jasmine put her camera away.

“I liked the pictures you emailed from Paris,” Seth said as they drove back toward the house. “I could tell you enjoyed yourself.”

“Paris is fantastic. But it’s not home.”

He glanced sideways at her. “You missed it here.”

“I missed you and Zane,” she said pointedly.

He gripped the steering wheel a little tighter and looked away. He seemed uncomfortable with her statement. But that was fine. She hadn’t imagined it would be easy to overcome the image he’d formed of her. It wouldn’t happen overnight, but it would happen if she had her way.

“Jasmine…”

Her gaze found his and she cocked her head in question.

“This morning. What happened?”

Chapter Seven

Seth knew full well what had taken place after talking to Zane earlier, but for some inexplicable reason, he wanted Jasmine to trust him enough to open up to him. Like she’d opened up to Zane.

And though he’d already heard the story from Zane, as Jasmine retold it, it had a much more profound effect. He felt every twinge of fear in her voice. Felt her shame. Lived through her terror with her.

At some point, he reached across the seat and curled his fingers tightly around hers. There was a quiet, unemotional quality to her voice as she finished. It was as if the telling had numbed her.

She glanced at him from underneath her lashes, a small look filled with nervousness. It was in that moment he knew she’d feared telling him, feared his reaction. Had his avoidance of her past led her to believe he was somehow ashamed of her?

That moment in the Houston bar six years ago had always been a source of awkwardness. Neither was comfortable broaching the subject, and he’d let it lie because he hadn’t wanted to bring up painful memories.

He braked and stopped in the middle of the road. He sat there a moment, Jasmine’s hand still enfolded in his. Then he turned in his seat to face her.

“Why didn’t you tell me before?”

“It’s not something I was very proud of,” she said in a low voice. “The way we met was bad enough. I didn’t have any desire for you to know what had happened before.”

“And what changed your mind?” He started to mention the fact that she’d only told Zane the night before, but he didn’t want to betray Zane’s confidence.

She shrugged. “Maybe it’s time I grew up. Stop letting the past dictate my present. Maybe it’s time I stopped being ashamed of something that I couldn’t control. Yes, I made mistakes and I paid for them. I don’t want to pay for them any longer. I’m tired of you and Zane looking at me like a child who needs protecting. So maybe it’s time I started taking care of myself.”

Her shoulders stiffened, and she sat up a little straighter as she stared challengingly at him.

“I don’t see you as a child,” he said mildly.

She arched a brow. “No? Maybe you see me as a woman, but you fight that tooth and nail. You want to see me as a child, so the fact that you don’t isn’t very consoling.”

He hated when women started talking in riddles. There wasn’t a man alive who could decipher what she’d just said.

“So you’re saying I don’t see you as a child, but I want to see you as a child, and you don’t like that.”

“Do you deny it?”

“Yes. No. Hell, I don’t know what the crap you’re saying, so I have no idea how to answer.”

She slid over the seat until she was inches from his face. “It’s a very simple thing,” she whispered. “Either you still see me as that helpless sixteen-year-old you saved six years ago, or you see me as a woman. What do you think when you look at me?”

If that wasn’t a f**king loaded question he didn’t know what was. She was too damn close, and his body was betraying him in the worst way.

He averted his gaze from her eyes, but it fell to the soft mounds of her br**sts, just peeking over the top of her tank top. He jerked his head back up. A child? Fuck, he wished he could envision a child when he looked at her. Maybe then his body wouldn’t seize. Wouldn’t tighten as if someone had clamped a vise grip around him.