He knew he wasn’t a prize, not unless money, fame or prestige mattered. If she was all about him, she would have to put up with his public image. She had already indicated she detested the way he was.

Trap. Why are you upset?

He should have known she was as tuned to him as he was to her. He sighed into the hourglass of red nestled in the middle of her thick black hair. “I can’t change, baby, not even for you. I had to train myself to be a cold and unfeeling bastard, which, quite frankly, wasn’t all that difficult. I never had many social skills. I never wanted anything or anyone to matter, to make me vulnerable. Out there, outside the walls of my home or my teammates’ homes, I have to be that person in order to survive.”

He waited a heartbeat. Two. She didn’t say anything, but she pressed closer to him, the smooth rounded buttocks sliding against his heavy erection. She didn’t seem to mind that he was as hard as a rock. He knew that later, much later, when she was used to his ways, he would have her take care of that before they went to sleep together. He resisted the urge to slide his hand between her legs to see if she was wet for him. He hoped that just their closeness would do that to her in the way it did for him. He craved her taste. It was there on his tongue. His cock jerked at the memory of the feast he’d had, devouring her sweetness. All that exotic honey his.

I didn’t ask you to change.

He forced himself to continue his explanation. He needed her to understand, even though he didn’t hold out much hope that she would. “But you didn’t like who I was when we went to town, and that’s part of who I am. My icy demeanor isn’t a façade. My friends say I have ice water in my veins, and maybe I do. I disconnect. I learned not to feel anything when I’m in public. When I’m talking with reporters or making an appearance I don’t want to make but is necessary.”

Why do reporters want to talk to you?

He hesitated. This was a tough subject. He knew her now. She wanted to stay in the shadows. Once her face was in a photograph, no shadow would hide her for long. It would be a media frenzy trying to get more.

Why don’t you want to tell me?

“Fuck.” The word exploded from him. He was going to have to tell her the truth. “Baby, I need more time.”

For what?

“To hook you.” His arm, the one around her waist, dragged her so close she was nearly pinned beneath him. His hand splayed out, fingers wide, taking in her entire rib cage. His fingertips brushed the underside of her breasts. “I want you so into me that you won’t run. I told you, for a woman like you I’m no prize.”

There was a small silence. She didn’t pull away or grow tense. She lay half under him, his body curved around hers and leaning over top of her, almost, but not quite pinning her down. She stayed relaxed, her eyes closed, her body in no way resistant. That shocked the hell out of him.

A woman like me? What about other women?

“You don’t give a damn about money or what I do, Cayenne. Other women aren’t necessarily like you. Some want to marry a man for his money. And baby, I have a lot of it. A fuck of a lot of it. Makes me a target for women looking to have what I can give them. It isn’t about me. It’s about the money.” He hesitated. “Or the fame. Some women get off on that shit. Cameras all the time. Photos in magazines. Invited to every event possible. My worst nightmare, and that’s what they want. They could care less whether or not I want it.”

What do you do that makes people want your picture and, I assume, write articles about you?

“I own several companies and I do a lot of research, mostly medical now, although I’ve come up with some ideas that made everyday things easier for people and those things made me money as well. Medical research has paid off big-time. I have money, but still, research is expensive. I need grants and allies. So my public face is important at times.” He hesitated again. “I’ve won a few major awards and that makes me noticeable sometimes. To the press.”

That man with the camera. He wanted your picture for magazines and newspapers because you’re famous?

He sighed. Pushed his cock deeper into her, finding a soft, heated spot between her rounded cheeks. She didn’t pull away. If anything, she gave him more, pushing back against him so he was nestled deep in that warm cleft. His heart jerked in his chest. Blood pounded in his cock.

There was nothing else for it. “Yeah, baby, I’m famous. Since Wyatt became my full partner in most projects, I’ve begun shifting some of the promotional work to him. Wyatt’s good with people. I’m not. I never will be. I’m not comfortable in the presence of too many people. I lack social skills. That’s never mattered until I found you. I deliberately bury myself in work. I need my work. My brain just doesn’t let it go. I understand work. I don’t understand people.”

Why do you think you need to hook me before you tell me this?

He nuzzled the nape of her neck, using his nose to burrow through the mass of hair until he found skin. He licked along the smooth, sweet line and then nipped with his teeth. He felt the answering shiver in her body.

“Because out there, in public, the cameras will never stop going after you once they find out you’re my woman. I want to make that legal. We needed to create legal documents for you. A history. Everything has to stand up to any scrutiny, so we needed to go to Flame, Wyatt’s sister-in-law. She’s amazing with computers. She has a counterpart, another woman who is a GhostWalker, Jaimie Fielding. Between the two of them, you’ll be so legit no one will ever suspect where you came from. The point being, Cayenne, that you’ll be in the public eye every time you go anywhere. You’ll have bodyguards with you every minute.”

She moved then, turning her head to look at him over her shoulder. In the darkness, he could see her easily with his acute night vision. She looked so beautiful, her green eyes moving over his face, surrounded by those long, feathery lashes.

Bodyguards? Me? Seriously, Trap, do you even know me? Did you not see me in the swamp? I can take care of myself.

He couldn’t stop his hand from moving up to cup her breast. She fit into his palm easily and he surrounded the soft, warm mound with his fingers, his thumb sliding over her nipple gently. Experimenting. She was tired. He could see the drowsiness in her eyes, but still, that small thumb brush got him another full-body shiver. A little press back into his groin. Her buttocks tightened around his cock, sending more hot blood rushing through his veins.