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“What?” she asked, certain he couldn’t have said that

“Nothing,” he told her “Don’t mind me”

She noticed for the first time how tired he looked

“You look exhausted, haven’t you been sleeping?”

He just stared at her for a h, no And if I look exhausted, then you look half-dead Haven’t you been sleeping?”

She frowned “It’s not nice to tell a woman she looks half-dead How co?”

He grinned “Because they don’t know the real me”

Truer words were never spoken He was rude, arguh, when he sht he could be charht circumstances “They certainly don’t”

“I don’t let many people see the real me”

She studied hi if she’d really heard a note of vulnerability in his voice or if she’d iined it

“So, I should consider myself lucky you’re such an ass to me because it’s the real you?”

His grin widened “That’s one way to put it”

She snorted “I can tell you another way to put it I think you’re arguo holy, tears started to drip down her cheeks

“Oh, sweetheart I’ood care of you, am I?” The soft sympathy in his voice threatened to turn those tears to sobs But she couldn’t fall into the trap of thinking she meant more to him than she really did That he truly cared She was probably just a charity case He felt sorry for her, and who could blame him?

“It’s not your job to take care of me”