“Give me the key.”
She puts her car key into my palm and her fingertips skim my thumbpad.
It’s the smallest touch, but electric. I jerk back like she burned me.
Our eyes meet and the hurt is naked and clear. Misery that I rejected her so viscerally.
Fuck.
I almost go to grasp her shoulder and reassure her. But I can’t. If I feel her warmth again, my body will react and then we’ll be in all sorts of trouble. We’re stuck here, snowed in. I can’t do anything that will make her scared of me. That means no touching.
When she was a kid, she’d sit on my knee and give me a cuddle, all powdery wee bairn smell. I never shied away from her. And suddenly I wonder if I was right about leaving her with her uncle. Maybe she’s been as starved of affection for these three years as I have. As lonely. It didn’t occur to me to ask my spy in the Barnes mafia if she got hugs. My heartstrings constrict, but there’s nothing to do now except keep her safe.
“Did you disable any trackers?”
“I couldn’t find any. I’m not sure anyone else even remembered this vehicle existed. It was only used on the estate, and has barely been out of the barn since…” She tails off, but I understand. Duncan taught her to drive in that Land Rover, and no one has bothered with it—or I am beginning to suspect her—since he died.
“Fine. The risk is too high that there’s some way of tracing it. I’ll get your stuff then dispose—”
“No!” She’s instantly distressed.
I shake my head. “What? Why?”
“I like it,” she whispers.
“You like it?” It’s a Land Rover, not a Highland Terrier puppy.
“It’s… my friend. My only one,” she mutters.
I heave in a breath and drag my fingers through my hair. Herfriend? How alone has she been that a beaten-up vehicle is her only friend? I stare at her as she wrings her hands, but still, she’s determined and grim.
“Okay.” I glare up at the darkening clouds and lightning cracks across the sky. That’ll block everything, including communication with my spy and any trackers, until the storm clears. After that I’ll have to figure out another solution.
“You won’t hurt it?” she asks, unsure.
“Promise.” I’d never harm anything she cared about, even if it is just a car. “Stay here.”
I run over and run my hand under the wheel arches and in other obvious places. Nothing. Yanking open the back door, I expect to haul out several suitcases.
But no. There’s one small black rucksack. I throw it over my shoulder, and check, and check again. Not even a coat. Damn.
I’ll buy one for her. More than one. She knows she can come here now. Maybe she’ll visit and allow me to take care of her.
Maybe I won’t let her leave.
I shove the thought away.
A sandwich wrapper is on the front passenger seat, and an empty bottle of fruit juice. Is that all she’s eaten in a whole day? My lass must be starving. I’ll fix that.
I return to the house, shaking off the snow as I enter. Mia presses her lips together as I give her the bag, as though she expects to be told off.
“Is that all of it?” I ask, although god knows where it would be. I just can’t believe everything she cares about fits into that small rucksack.
“Yeah. Thanks.” She fingers the canvas of the bag nervously and the sight of her hand clenching makes my cock rise with the fiction she would be tentative when she first touched my cock. Until I encouraged her. Showed her she couldn’t hurt me, and I’d take anything she gave me.
I can’t look at her.
“I’ll provide everything else you need.” I lose the promise into the door as I close it. Loud enough for her to hear, but I can’t look at her while I say that in case my eyes indicate,including orgasmsand losing your virginity. Because, yeah, my spy was enough of an arsehole to unsolicitedly tell me that she hadn’t been with a man. It didn’t bother me either way at the time. Now…
