Page 11 of Fighting for Lucy

This was harder than he’d thought it would be.

Lucy had always invoked something in him that he hadn't wanted to examine too closely. She brought out feelings that he had learned from birth to ignore. Somehow, when she was around, he seemed to have a harder time doing that than he should.

“Please, let me go.” Lucy wept. She was limp in his hold like everything that had happened had caught up with her all at once and left her too exhausted to do anything other than cry and beg.

Unless it was in the bedroom, and she was pleading for pleasure, he’d be only too happy to deliver, Zander found he didn't like the sound. Usually, a man’s pleas were easy to ignore, he was able to block them out and focus on the bigger picture. But he couldn’t do that with Lucy. She was different. The only other person who’d ever managed to bring out that same protectiveness in him was his sister.

Only he definitely didn't look at Lucy and think of her as a sister.

Although his life would be so much easier if he did.

“I can't let you go, Lucy,” he said softly, dropping his forehead to rest against the back of her head. The ache in his chest was uncomfortable, and he wanted to rub it away, erase it, do what he always did, and focus on the job at hand.

“Why?” The whispered word, spoken through a torrent of tears, only made the ache worse because there was no answer he could offer her.

No satisfactory answer anyway.

“I only have one set of night vision goggles,” he said in place of an answer. “How about I carry you for a while. Since we’re both awake, we may as well keep walking.”

“I don’t want you touching me,” she said, beginning to struggle against his grip. The only way she was getting free was if he let her and he had no intention of letting her.

“You're weak, in pain, and exhausted.” Zander shifted his hold on her so she was cradled in his arms. With her in this position, he had no choice but to look into her eyes. Such a pretty shade of blue, the kind of eyes you could get lost staring into if you'd let yourself. But he couldn’t let himself.

That was something he was going to have to keep reminding himself of.

Because there was no way he could throw away everything he’d worked for, everything he was so close to getting. Not for one woman with a tough girl attitude he admired, a sexy body he craved, and a lot of love to offer that he found himself longing to be the recipient of.

Not for anything.

Too much was riding on this.

There was too much to lose if it all fell apart.

Too much to gain if everything went the way he had planned.

“Like you care if I'm hurting,” Lucy said, eyeing him defiantly.

The spark of anger in her eyes almost made him smile. If he didn't know it would only make her angry, he’d tell her how much he loved that she wasn’t cowering down before him, but standing up for herself. He guessed she had a lot of practice ofstanding up for herself and proving to those around her that she wasn’t weak.

Which reminded him.

“Do you have your medication with you?” he asked.

Annoyance flared in those baby blues that looked at him with such disdain that he wanted to spill his guts, and try to make her understand the position he’d been put in.

“That’s none of your business, and how do you even know about my epilepsy?”

“Because I know you, Lucy.”

“No, you don’t. Not really. We’ve only met a handful of times.”

“Enough,” he murmured. Enough for him to have fantasized about her more times than he could count, coming in his hand with an image of her face in his mind, and the echo of the sounds he knew she’d make in his ears.

Enough to know that if he was a different man, and his life wasn’t the one he had chosen, he could have pursued her and convinced this fiercely independent woman to give him a chance.

But he wasn’t different, and his life was a step away from complete catastrophe.

He could do nothing to ever be good enough for a woman like Lucy Elrod.

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