Aric (The Boundarylands #7) - Callie Rhodes Page 0,34

she couldn't even hate Aric for tying her up. He'd only done it to save her life, even at the cost of staying away from her for two whole days just to make sure he'd be ready to protect her if John decided to come back and try again.

And now that Jocelyn fully understood the power of her instinctive need, she knew it couldn't have been easy for Aric. If he felt even a fraction of the mind-altering desire that she had, those two days must have been pure hell.

But he'd done it without complaint.

And so Jocelyn found herself without much to despise him for. She still felt light-headed from the days of pleasure, bone-tired from the physical demands of it. Their sexual connection didn't seem to be something either could control. It was a natural force as undeniable as gravity, and she was just grateful that he'd been strong enough to resist it long enough to protect her.

But none of that meant that she actually liked Aric. Or that he liked her in return.

Despite their bond, they were very different people. Aric was bold; she was timid. He pushed forward; she pulled back. Her impulse was to run, and his was to fight like hell—even when it meant he was sure to get himself killed.

So there was no reason for Jocelyn to keep trying so hard. Aric was a grown man—over seven feet tall and made of muscle, for God's sake—and he could do whatever he wanted. She couldn't be held responsible for his bad decisions.

In a way, it would solve some of Jocelyn's problems if John did shoot Aric—maybe then she could go back to being her boring old self again.

Instantly, her stomach twisted, and acidic bile rose up in her throat, and Jocelyn pushed the idea out of her mind as fast as she could.

Aric turned and looked at her sharply from his post near the window. "You all right?"

How had he known?

"I'm fine, just…" She searched for the right word. Terrified? Overwhelmed? Suffering from the most profound existential crisis of her life? "…nervous."

He gave a low grumble before turning his attention back to the approach to the house. "Have you always been this afraid?"

"No," she answered honestly. "Then again, I never did anything I needed to be nervous about."

"Except go after a mafia hitman all on your own," he said matter-of-factly.

Jocelyn shifted uncomfortably in the huge chair in front of the cold fireplace. "I didn't really have a choice about that. I would never have been able to live with myself if I didn't try to stop him. Anyone would have done the same thing."

The alpha gave a low laugh. "No, sweetheart, they wouldn't have."

Something like annoyance crept into Jocelyn's thoughts. "You don't know that."

"Sure I do. This boss of yours has been assassinating people for how long?"

"Five years at least."

"Five years." Aric almost sounded impressed. "And in all that time, no one else had the guts to turn him in. And I can fucking guarantee you, no one else thought about stealing two million dollars from the bastard."

He made it sound like Jocelyn was some sort of criminal mastermind. "I only took that money to start a new life in some remote backwater where no one would find me."

"The Boundarylands are damn remote, I'll give you that."

"I didn't mean to end up here," Jocelyn protested.

"Yeah," he said, casting her a dark glance. "You made that pretty fucking clear."

If she didn't know better, Jocelyn would have thought she detected a melancholy note in his voice. But that was impossible. Alphas didn't do sad.

And this wasn't the time for psychological ruminating, not when any second could bring a red laser dot on her chest, the boom of a gunshot, and bye-bye Jocelyn.

"I'm just saying that the last few days haven't been the best representation of my true personality," she said.

"I don't know, sweetheart," Aric said with a shrug. "Maybe they actually were. Maybe it was all the boring years that came before that weren't really you."

"I'm afraid there's no chance of that," Jocelyn replied. This only underlined how little they knew each other. Only someone who'd just met her could entertain such an outrageous notion.

"When push came to shove, you listened to your heart, not your fear," Aric insisted stubbornly.

Jocelyn wished he'd stop. It only made her feel more inadequate. She wasn't courageous—she didn't even like scary movies. "That was an extreme circumstance."

Aric risked another glance, though his muscles remained tense and on guard. "You're just proving