Dane

Dane's amusement didn't last long. While Chris tried to pretend he wasn't embarrassed, and Delilah stammered apologies, Dane stepped up to see if Chris was okay, but quickly realized Delilah was the one who was shaking.

​​

Chris had really frightened her. Why? Dane frowned. Chris hadn't done anything to hurt her . . . had he? Had something happened between them earlier that Dane didn't know about? Had she been feeling unsafe already?

The smile he'd been fighting dissolved.

"Please, rest assured, Chris, I don't make a habit of—" Delilah said, her voice too high.

Chris smiled, but his eyes were bright with anger he was trying to stifle. "Lila, seriously, it's fine. I startled you. Next time I'll say your name instead." And then the smile softened, changed. To Dane's disgust, it became that charming smile he always used on women he was attracted to. Dane's anger began to simmer again.

"I'm sure Delilah's grateful you won't sue," he muttered and Chris's eyes snapped to him. He knew that tone. Dane made sure to underline it with a pointed stare, before turning back to her. "Please don't worry about it, Delilah. Chris's head would need a much harder hit than that to get cracked." He tried to smile, but it was hard when her lips had gone white and her fingers trembled. He stepped closer, placing himself halfway between her and Chris. "Are you okay?" he asked quietly.

"Yes, of course. I'm fine," she said firmly, but her eyes were narrowed, her forehead pinched, and he had the distinct impression she was fighting the urge to pull away from him—didn't want him close. He took a subtle step back to give her more room and turned back to Chris. "Weren't you leaving?" he asked rudely.

Chris snorted and shook his head. "I was going to tell Delilah that we had a meeting in the morning. We're going over the new clients, assigning teams. She should be there for that, get to understand how the process works."

Delilah nodded. "Yes, yes. Good idea. I'll be there. What time?"

"Nine o'clock," Chris said.

"Thank you. And—again, I'm very sorry. It won't happen again."

"Stay in shape," Chris winked, apparently having successfully shaken his anger. "We might be able to use you on one of the teams." He grinned, but Delilah just nodded and looked at her hands, obviously not really listening. Chris's smile fell into a frown. He waited a moment, then opened his mouth.

"See you tomorrow," Dane said firmly. Chris's mouth snapped shut, and he shot Dane a look, but without argument, he turned for the door and left.

Dane used the papers on the floor as an excuse to give Delilah time to pull herself together. Kneeling, he turned away from her and started to gather them. She stared out the window for a moment, then gasped when she realized what he was doing. "Oh my goodness, I'm so sorry. I'll get those, Dane. You don't need to—"

"No, don't worry about it, Delilah," he said formally, putting a hand up so she would leave him to it. "Just breathe for a minute." He finished gathering the papers without looking at her, then straightened them on the table before he tapped them into a tidy pile and turned back to hand them to her.

She took them slowly. "Thank you," she murmured, then shook her head slightly and bit her lip. She started thumbing through the papers, rearranging the order and checking that they were all there. "We were going to discuss strategy," she said. "I think—"

"I don't mind telling you, Delilah, that I'm already confident in your capabilities. We can meet in the morning to go over whatever notes you make tonight. I think it's been a long day for all of us, and neither of us can leave yet. Perhaps the better plan would be for you to spend some time now putting together your thoughts, then you can fill me in tomorrow?" he tried to smile the way he'd been told good bosses smiled at their employees. A way that was supposed to make them feel like they were cared for.

But it seemed she never reacted like he expected. Instead of looking grateful, her eyes narrowed and her jaw went tight. "I do not need special treatment, Dane. What I did was unprofessional, and it won't happen again. But it's done now. So let's move on. If we can get some decisions made now, I can hit the ground running tomorrow."

He held her gaze for a moment. "You're shaking," he said bluntly. "I think it would be good for you to have a break."

"I'll have a break when the work is done," she snapped. "The news doesn't stop just because we've had a long day. And I can guarantee you Becky and her team aren't slowing down. Now," she pulled out a chair at the table. "Please, join me. This won't take long." She indicated the empty chair nearest him with a firm look.

Dane's lips pursed at her aggressive tone, but he decided not to fight her on it, and took his seat. Making sure she also relaxed into her seat. But he watched her carefully over the next hour as they filtered through plans and ideas.

She didn't know it yet, but the reason Dane Daniels was so successful in what he did, was because he knew women. He knew the look they got when they were afraid. He knew false courage—and false timidity. He knew how to tell the difference between the broken ones, and those that were merely weak. He'd grown up with a broken woman and discovered there were certain things that were universal when it came to identifying them.

And watching Delilah Farris now, he remained impressed at her strength. But he could also tell she'd been hurt. Frightened. Desperately at some point.

He was going to find out when, and how. He'd make sure she was safe if it killed him.

That was what Dane Daniels did.