Page 32 of Iron Princess
She isn’t lying. When Kane’s gaze sweeps over me, there’s no denying the hunger.
“I don’t know what to do,” I whisper.
“Is he a good man?”
Yve’s question should be an easy one to answer, but I freeze.Is Kane a good man?
“I guess that depends on how you definegood.”
“He hit you? Talk down to you? Make you feel stupid?”
Yve’s stare is intense, and I hate to think she has experience with any of those things, but given the sharpness in her tone, I know she must.
“No. Definitely not.”
“Is he inconsiderate? A liar? An asshole? Mean to kids and dogs?”
I shake my head. “No. Although I’ve never seen him with a kid or a dog.”
“You think he’d be a dick to them?”
I try to picture it, but I truly can’t. “I can’t imagine he would be.”
“Would he hide a body for you?”
That question takes me completely off guard. “What?”
“Would he cover your ass no matter what? You get that feeling from him?”
She doesn’t know it, but he’s already committed to physically covering my ass and doing whatever else he can to help me.
“Yes. He would,” I reply unequivocally.
“He’s kind to you? Helpful? Always make sure you come?”
It’s lucky I’m not chewing because I would have choked. “Oh yeah.”
“Then he’s a good man, or at least a good enough one.”
I contemplate her requirements for being a good man, and I’m a little stunned. All the things she said—the positives and the negatives—would separate bad from good ... but there’s so much more to it. Isn’t there?
“No amount of money can make me take a job if I won’t be able to live with myself after it’s done.”
That’s what Kane said when I dropped the bomb of a question on him this morning.
He might do bad things, but does that make him a bad person? My brother does things that plenty of people would classify as bad, but he loves me like crazy and would do anything for me. I don’t think he’s a bad person.
At the end of the day, that’s what truly matters.Isn’t it?
Yve’s commentsleave me with plenty to think about for the rest of the day, made even more complicated by the man across the desk from me.
Kane’s presence makes me hyperaware of every movement I make, down to the slide of my blouse across my skin. In the middle of reviewing résumés, my mind wanders to what happened in the shower last night, and the strange mix of vulnerability and strength it revealed.
My concentration completely blown, I slap my laptop closed. “I’m done for the day.”
Kane’s eyebrows rise. “You sure?”
I nod. “Yep. Hit the wall.”
