Free Bound by Honor by Diana Palmer

unfastened her seat belt, aware of a curtain being lifted and then released in the living room. “I sent Dallas straight here as soon as I got the message,” he explained, “to watch out for Jess and Stevie. You should have let me know about this night meeting much sooner.”
    â€œI know.” She was fighting tears. The whole experience had been a shock that she knew she’d never get over. “There was a third man, on the porch. He said that Lopez wouldn’t like what they were doing, calling attention to themselves.”
    He stared at her for a long moment, seeing the fear and terror and revulsion that lingered in her oval face, watching the way her hands clenched at the shirt he’d fastened over her torn bodice. He glanced at the window, where the curtain was in place again, and back to Sally’s face.
    â€œCome here, sweetheart,” he said tenderly, pulling her into his arms. He cuddled her close, nuzzling his face into her throat, letting her cry.
    Her clenched fist rested against his black undershirt and she sobbed with impotent fury. “Oh, I’m so…mad!” she choked. “So mad! I felt like a rag doll.”
    â€œYou do your best and take what comes,” he said at her ear. “Anybody can lose a fight.”
    â€œI’ll bet you never lost one,” she muttered tearfully.
    â€œI got the hell beaten out of me in boot camp by a little guy half my size, who was a hapkido master. Taught me a valuable lesson about overconfidence,” he said deliberately.
    She took the handkerchief he placed in her hands and wiped her nose and eyes and mouth. “Okay, I get the message,” she said on a broken sigh. “There’s always somebody bigger and you can’t win every time.”
    â€œNice attitude,” he said, approving.
    She wiped away the last trace of tears and looked up at him from her comfortable position across his lap. “Thanks for the hero stuff.”
    He shrugged. “Shucks, ma’am, t’weren’t nothin’.”
    She laughed, as she was meant to. Her eyes adored him. “They say that if you save a life, it becomes yours.”
    His lips pursed and he looked down at where the jacket barely covered her torn blouse. “Do I get that, too?”
    â€œToo?”
    He opened the shirt very slowly and looked at the pale flesh under the torn blouse. There was a lot of it on view. Sally didn’t protest, didn’t grab at cover. She lay very still in his arms and let him look at her.
    His pale eyes met hers in the faint light coming from the house. “No protest?”
    â€œYou saved me,” she said simply. She sighed and smiled with resignation. “I belonged to you, anyway. There’s never been anyone else.”
    His long, lean fingers touched her collarbone, his eyes narrow and solemn, his expression serious, intent. “That could have changed, tonight,” he reminded herquietly. “You have to trust me enough to do what I tell you. I don’t want you hurt in this. I’ll do anything I have to, to protect you. That includes having a man follow you around like a visible appendage if you push me to it. Think what your principal would make of that!”
    â€œI won’t make any more stupid mistakes,” she promised.
    â€œWhat would you call this?” he mused, nodding toward the ripped fabric that left one pretty, taut breast completely bare.
    â€œCover me up if you don’t like what you see,” she challenged.
    He actually laughed. She was constantly surprising him. “I think I’d better,” he murmured dryly, and pulled the shirt back over her, leaving her to button it again. “Dallas is at the window getting an education.”
    â€œAnd I can tell how much he needs it,” she said with dry humor as Eb helped her back into her own seat.
    â€œThat makes two of you,” Eb told her. His eyes were kind, and now full of concern.