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Memory of that hopeful look and the soft declaration of love she’d made ate like acid at the hard wall around his heart. Three years ago he’d been the one to declare his love, only to have it thrown back in his face. This time, he’d done the same thing to her. And he didn’t like that feeling, not one bit.
“There was a guy at one of the communes who kept his matches on the shelf beside the fire,” Rainne said, thankfully oblivious to his thoughts. She handed the box to him.
Alastair emptied the box onto the desk, divided the amount in half and placed them into two separate plastic money bags he’d found in the drawer. He ripped the matchbox in two, stashing half with each lot of matches.
“Take this. Put it somewhere safe.” He handed her one of the bags.
“Why?” Her wide eyes blinked up at him.
“In case we split up, we should both be able to set the petrol tanks on fire.”
She licked her bottom lip. A nervous habit he doubted she even noticed. “We won’t split up. We’re doing this together.”
“Right.” If he had his way, she’d be tied to the desk in the nice, warm, secure guardhouse. But no, she had to be a hero.
He shook his head then instantly regretted it as it started to throb again. It wasn’t his problem if she wanted to go out into the snow and get shot at. He wasn’t her keeper. Still... He eyed the desk. If he wasn’t injured, he could have picked her up and put her where she was safe.
He handed over strips of her kitten-covered undershirt, which she’d cut for them. “Tuck the strips into your coat. Keep them dry.”
She did as she was told while he watched her every move. He nodded when she’d zipped the coat up tight.
“When we get out there, communicating is going to be hard. We’ll use hand gestures.” He held up a fist. “This means stop and be silent.”
She held up a fist to stop him. “Are you forgetting my brother is ex-military? I know every military hand signal there is, plus a few civilian ones I learned on demonstrations that are too rude to use.”
“Don’t think you’ll need those ones, Rainbow.”
Her answering smile made his mouth go dry. He cleared his throat. “Ready?”
She nodded, but her face had paled. Stubborn woman. “This will work, won’t it? I mean, the bad guys will run out of the castle when they realise they’ve lost their vehicles, right?” She eyed the intercom panel. “Maybe we should tell the women what we’re doing so they don’t get scared?”
“What if the bad guys overhear? We’d lose the element of surprise.” He brushed some stray hair from her cheek. “This will work, Rainbow. The distraction will buy some time until Lake gets here. And they’ll lose their transport.” He smiled. “That will make it harder to run away.”
She looked so hopeful that it made him ache. He took a deep breath, feeling the answering pain in his chest. “I really think you should stay here. Where it’s safe.”
“Don’t make me hurt you again, Alastair.”
It was like being threatened by a bunny. A very stubborn bunny.
He switched off the main beam of the flashlight, then turned on the faint, muted glow they’d use outside. It took a minute for his eyes to adjust. The first thing he noticed was the worried frown on Rainne’s face.
“Take my hand.” His voice was gruff.
When her fingers curled around his, he felt her shiver, and for a second he wished their gloves weren’t between them.
“Hold on tight, Rainbow,” he said softly. “The flashlight is dim. We’ll only be able to see a little bit in front of ourselves, but it should be enough to get us to the castle.”
He squeezed her hand to reassure her, then turned them both towards the door.
“Be careful, Alastair,” Rainne said. “Please don’t get killed.” There was a pause. “I love you,” she whispered, so softly that he doubted he was meant to hear.
Alastair stopped in his tracks and hung his head. His fingers flexed in hers. They were only words. She didn’t mean them. People who loved you didn’t leave you. An annoying voice in the back of his mind asked if she’d really left him, or had run from everything in general.
“Alastair?” Rainne said from behind him.
Oh, damn it to hell!
He turned to face Rainne. The temptation to touch her, to taste her, was too much. He didn’t know what they were walking out into. He didn’t know if he’d ever get to touch her again. And that felt like a crime.
