“You scare me, Elijah. I’ve been scared all my life. I don’t want to be scared anymore.”

“You feel safe with me, Siena,” he corrected.

She started to shake her head but he stopped her.

“You’re sitting here on this bed with me. You came home with me. You protested, baby, but you didn’t throw a fit. You didn’t tell the cops you wanted protection. You came with me because I make you feel safe. That’s the truth.”

She opened her mouth to deny it, but then closed it again. He had a point. The problem was, she did feel safe with him, it was her heart that didn’t feel safe. There was a difference, but she wasn’t about to tell him that, so again, she said nothing.

He nuzzled her neck again. “It’s all right, baby. I’ll give you time.” He tugged her braid. “Let’s go. I want you to meet Emma.” He moved around her to slide off the bed and reach for her. “It’s important for you to feel like you have a few female friends out here. Emma and Catarina both live on neighboring ranches.”

“I can’t go out there like this.”

He tugged her to her feet. “My shirt’s long enough on you to be a dress.” His eyes darkened. “Longer than the dress you wore to the club.”

“I was wearing underwear at the club.”

His eyebrow shot up. “I didn’t see any lines.”

“Oh. My. God.” She narrowed her eyes at him. “You looked that close?”

“I’ve got news for you, baby. Every man in that damned club looked that close. You’re lucky I didn’t commit murder that night.”

She rolled her eyes and turned away from him. She had to have a long skirt she could slip on. One that dropped to her ankles and flowed around her so no one could tell whether she wore underwear or not. She rummaged through her bag and came out with a ruffled skirt that dropped to the floor.

He hadn’t moved and she turned, skirt in hand. “Are you going to watch me get dressed?”

His white teeth flashed, reminding her a little of a wolf’s. “Yes.”

She bit back her protest. What was the use? Elijah did whatever he wanted, and clearly he wasn’t going to leave her side. She liked that it was important to him that she meet Emma—that he wanted her to have a female friend. That was nice.

Siena pulled on the skirt without looking at him. She looked in her bag for a shirt that would go, but without wearing a bra, nothing really worked.

“You look fine in my shirt. Come on, baby, stop stalling.”