She rolled her eyes. “What?”
For a moment I just stared at her.
Even beaten and bloody, she was beautiful.
Her braid had started coming loose, pale strands falling across her face. Her eyes were wide and bright with emotion. No matter how angry she was, she had never been able to hide what she felt.
Not from me.
“What, Kieran?” she said again.
I cleared my throat.
“Keep your head down,” I said. “Or at least pull your hood up. We don’t need anyone spotting you.”
“Yes, sir,” she saluted me, her perfect lips twisted in a scowl.
Heat stirred through me. I shifted in my seat.
Yes, sir.
I didn’t want her to realise what those words did to me.
“How long is this back road?” she asked finally.
“Why?” I said. “Planning your next stunt?”
“No. I just want to get back to Ash. I need to make sure he’s okay.”
“Ash is fine,” I snapped. “He told you. He’ll heal.”
“Yeah, well,” she shot back, “maybe I just want to see someone who actually likes me right now. Ever think of that?”
“So, what, this is a pity party now?” I said, though the words stirred something uneasy in me. “Feeling sorry for yourself?”
“No!” She let out an exasperated sigh. “Look, if all you want to do is fight with me, I’d rather we didn’t talk at all.”
“Fine.”
“Fine.”
We fell into an uneasy silence. It lasted all of five minutes.
“Eight hours,” I said.
“What?”
“The trip will take eight hours.”
“On the road?”
“Yes.”
“With you?”
I narrowed my eyes at her.
“Yes. With me. Deal with it.”
