Free Take Me Deeper by Jackie Ashenden Page B

way the hell out of her head. There would be no screwing, not with an actual man. Not ever. Because at least a vibrator didn’t want to get to know you, and the greatest betrayal it could offer was running out of batteries at a vital moment.
    Besides, what she should really be considering was how the hell she was going to get out of this mess and get back to Jamie. If she could
ever
get back to Jamie.
    Voices drifted from the doorway Zane had vanished through, Zane’s and another man’s, deep and gravelly. Then Zane reappeared, a tall, broad-shouldered man in battered jeans and a faded black T-shirt following behind him. The man was only a bit taller than Zane, his dark hair longer, and he had the greenest eyes she’d ever seen. They were quite mesmerizing. In fact,
he
was quite mesmerizing. His features were rougher and less sharply defined than Zane’s, but there was a raw, very masculine beauty to him that had Iris staring.
    “She’s being chased by the cartel so of course you brought her here,” the green-eyed man said sarcastically, staring down at her. “Jesus, Zane. What the hell were you thinking?”
    “I was thinking that she’ll be safer here than at that goddamn motel.” Zane was frowning at the other man, his arms folded across his chest.
    The guy gave Zane a ferocious look. “We can’t keep her here. She needs to go back to Dallas.” He said it like it was a done deal already, no argument.
    “No,” Zane said flatly. “She’s not going back to Dallas.”
    Mr. Green Eyes went still, staring back at Zane, and an electric tension filled the air between the two men.
    Iris tensed. Who the hell was this? One of the brothers Zane had mentioned? He’d also said that he wasn’t a part of the family business, so where did this guy fit in? Or, more to the point, where did Zane fit in?
    “Who’s calling the shots here?” Green Eyes demanded. “And just in case you need a hint, it’s not you.”
    “She’s not going back to Dallas, Quinn.” Zane’s features had hardened. “Jail isn’t safe for her.”
    “That’s not your call.”
    “I don’t give a shit whether it’s my call or not. She’s not going. End of story.”
    Quinn, or whoever he was, lifted his chin, his shoulders squaring as if preparing for a fight. He was built a touch broader than Zane, his shoulders heavily muscled, the cotton of his T-shirt stretched around biceps that looked like they bench-pressed houses every day.
    Jesus. It looked like they were going to go for each other’s throats.
    Iris got awkwardly to her feet. “No,” she said into the tense silence. “I’m not going to Dallas. But take the cuffs off me now and I’ll walk through that door and you’ll never have to—”
    “Sit down, Iris,” Zane ordered coldly, not taking his gaze from the other man. “You’re not going anywhere. My brother here is being a dickhead. Of course you’ll be staying here until we decide what to do about the people after you.”
    There was another tense, biting silence.
    We,
he’d said. Not
you
. Not
I.
    Why did she like that so very much? Why did she want to sit right back down on that couch like he’d told her to?
    It sounded like bliss in fact. To have someone else figure out what to do. To not have to do it all by herself the way she’d been doing for so long.
    You did that with Dylan, don’t forget. And look how that turned out.
    Yeah, she wasn’t likely to forget that. But this was an entirely different situation. This time the person who was at risk was her. In fact, the
only
person at risk was her. Which meant if Zane turned out to be a bastard just like Dylan, at least no one but her would get hurt. Not that she’d let herself get hurt, not this time. So why not let Zane figure it out? Why not trust him with this?
    Yes, she didn’t know him from a bar of soap, but he’d told her he’d protect her, that he’d keep her safe. Hell, and he was some kind of super-soldier thing too, right? Perhaps it was stupid