“Why do you color your hair?” Reid asked.

I wrinkled my forehead. “What?”

“I’m just wondering.”

“I like it.” I took a sip of champagne.

The answer wasn’t a lie. When I arrived in Las Vegas six years ago, I needed to reinvent myself. Zinnia “Zee” Rehnquist was a blonde. Zara Jones? She had dark hair. Not just dark hair. Jet black. The kind of jet black that said, don’t fuck with me or I’ll kill you with a butcher knife.

It worked fine with my own blue eyes—slightly lighter than Reid’s, and the black hair made them seem even lighter—and my dark brown eyebrows and lashes, colored black with makeup. I was a dark blonde, not platinum by any means.

“You’re beautiful no matter what,” Reid said. “I’d just love to see what you look like with your natural color.”

My stomach clenched. I never let men get close to me. The few times I’d tried had ended in disaster.

“Black hair is who I am now.” I handed him my empty champagne flute. “I should be going.”

“Sure. I’ll take you home.”

“I’m fine. I’ll just hail a cab.”

“Zee,” he said, “I have three limos on call. Already paid for. There’s no reason for you to take a cab.”

Three limos. Already paid for.

Wolfe money.

The Wolfes had so much money that their patriarch could afford to build his own human hunting ground. Unreal.

“He’s dead,” Reid said.

Had I spoken aloud? I hadn’t drunk that much champagne. “What?”

“You had a look on your face.”

“What kind of look?”

He sighed. “It’s the same look I’ve seen on my sister’s face forever. I just didn’t know what it meant until now. You were thinking about my father. About what he put you through. I know the look.”

“Actually, I was thinking about his money. About how you can have three limos on standby for no reason at all.”

“There’s a reason. My family is here in town. We need to go places, so we have cars available.”

“No, you have limos available.”

He smiled. God, he was truly gorgeous.

“Semantics,” he said in a teasing tone.

I shook my head. “Don’t play that card. The Wolfe money was enough to put me through hell. Hell that you people want me to revisit.”

Reid’s smile faded. “I’m not my father. Neither are my brothers or my sister.”

“I know that.”

Now I felt like crap. But wait. Why should I feel like crap? I went through what I went through, and I shouldn’t have to apologize for it. I won’t apologize for it. Someone should be apologizing to me.

Of course, that wasn’t fair. They’d all apologized profusely, even though none of them was at fault.

Reid took a sip of champagne. “My brother saved you that day.”