Fate Forgotten by J. L. Sheppard Page B

male hadn’t ceased to surprise her: angry one minute, sweet the next, then apologetic.
    Have you had so many men? She cringed.
    By far the meanest thing anyone had ever said to her. It hurt, but she couldn’t understand why. She never cared what people thought of her. And he couldn’t be farther from the truth. At twenty-four, she was still a virgin, the reason why her sisters often teased her and encouraged her to date.
    Despite what he said and how he acted, she couldn’t hate him. He instantly recognized his mistake and attempted to correct it. There was honor in that.
    What stunned her the most wasn’t him rushing to her for help, how he’d acted when Nathan showed up, or how he’d insulted her. Nope.
    He claimed to be jealous. Why would he care who saw her in that long white shirt? It revealed nothing. If it had, she would’ve changed. After all, she lacked the confidence to parade around half naked in anyone’s company. She barely wore dresses, for God’s sake.
    The shirt was a man’s, but she hadn’t lied when she said she didn’t know who it belonged to, and it hadn’t concerned her. The night her life changed, she’d awoken at the demon compound wearing it. She assumed Ashley had changed her, but never bothered to ask about the shirt’s owner. She continued to wear it because it was large and comfortable to sleep in, and she always preferred long shirts instead of fancy nighties.
    Jealous? She balked, shaking her head. He lied. He had no reason. It implied he cared about her more than…No, he couldn’t. He didn’t. He just wanted to soften her, persuade her to forgive him, and he thought flattery the best way. He even complimented her several times afterward…on his knees.
    An unsettling sight: an angry, bitter warrior wearing nothing but a towel begging her to forgive him? His eyes so dark, so expressive, showing her just how sorry he was…
    The man was trouble. Her gift warned her, and now she knew despite what she believed last night, it hadn’t failed her. He had the uncanny ability to frighten, insult, and infuriate her. Worst, her attraction to him. The way he wore that towel around his waist, his chest bare and chiseled, muscles bulging, and that six pack that made her want to trace her fingers over the ridges.
    God, she was in trouble…and late for breakfast if she didn’t hurry.
    Dressing in a pair of jeans, a long-sleeved, baggy navy blouse, and a pair of comfortable flats, she headed into the elevator and waited to arrive on the dining room floor. When the doors parted just a sliver, Nathan took one look and headed for her. “Are you okay?”
    She nodded.
    “Sorry, I left—”
    “Don’t worry. He apologized, repeatedly. It’s fine.”
    He adverted eye contact, then met hers again. “You know he didn’t mean it, right?”
    She studied him, wondering why he would defend Jake after the way Jake acted, not just to her but to him. She’d pegged Nathan for the type that stood for what he believed in and one thing for sure: he believed in respecting women. She learned that the day she met him. A true gentleman: well-mannered and well-spoken, courteous, opening doors, insisting she needed protection, yet making sure he gave her space, too.
    “He’s quick to lose his temper, and say things he doesn’t mean, but…”
    Lifting a brow, she crossed her arms over her chest. “But?”
    “Most men do.”
    It left her more confused. Nathan didn’t seem to have that problem. In fact, she never met a man who chose to live basking in anger. Jake did.
    She meant to ask, but the elevator doors parted and in walked Jake and Annie, who took one look at the mass of people and turned away, burying her head against his leg, tightening her arm around one of his thighs. Turning, Jake bent down. Placing his hands under her armpits, he lifted her in one swift movement, cradling her against his chest. He then scanned the room. Those dark eyes of his halted when he spotted them and hardened. She had