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“Eli,” she couldn’t help interrupting. What he was saying wasn’t solely true. Plus, she wasn’t going to make him have this conversation in her doorway. “Do you want to come in?”
“No. I want to go out. With you.”
“Now?”
“Please?”
“Please?” Her lips widened into a grin. “You were the last person I expected when I opened this door, Eli Crane. I couldn’t imagine you coming here to apologize, let alone beg.”
“Desperate times.” Half his mouth slid into a cautious smile.
“Do you mind if I change out of my work clothes?”
“Take your time.” Eli cast a glance at the staircase. “I’ll start heading down the stairs now. Maybe I’ll be at the bottom by the time you’re ready.”
She tsked her disapproval at his joke, but before she could say more, he stepped forward, cupped her nape, and covered her lips with a soft kiss. Her eyes were still closed when he stroked the side of her neck with his thumb.
When she opened them, she met his concerned deep blues.
“I’ll make it up to you, Sable. I promise.”
She nodded, overcome by the courage it’d taken him to come here. To face the stairs, yes, but also to face her. Not only did he admit to being wrong, but in his own way, he admitted that he didn’t want to be without her.
She shut the front door as Eli started down the staircase. His pace was faster than he’d let on, but he was obviously working hard to navigate. As gestures went, his was significant. He’d pushed past his own barriers and comfort zones for her.
“Not bad, Eli Crane,” she said to herself as she headed to her bedroom. “Not bad at all.”
***
Eli reached the bottom of the stairs faster than he’d climbed them, that was for damned sure. Catching his breath at the bottom, he felt better about himself for having tackled them. Maybe he should make climbing part of his training. He could come here and practice a few times a week. He bet he could get faster.
Deep in thought and inspired by the idea of a new challenge, Eli walked to his car, head down as he pulled his keys from his pocket. He’d parked closer to the entrance of Sable Concierge, so walking to the car took him away from the staircase by about fifty feet.
Which was probably why Sable’s voice sounded distant when her scream pierced the air.
Fear wrapped around him like a length of rope, adrenaline dumping into his bloodstream by the gallon as he turned to run back to where she was.
Only he couldn’t run. He had the wrong fucking prosthetic on. Not the Gazelle, made for running, but his normal everyday walking foot.
She came into view a few sweaty seconds later and the sight almost stopped his heart. A man wearing a ski mask and gloves, covered head to toe in black, took one look at Eli, who was stalking at top speed toward him, thrust Isa to the side, and raced off at a full run.
Eli, muscles corded and taut, took a few bounding steps before freezing in place, knowing a chase would be futile. He cursed himself for not having a weapon on his person—he hadn’t bothered with his concealed carry since he’d returned home—as he watched as the figure grew smaller and smaller in the alleyway before turning right and disappearing altogether.
His heart slammed his chest, his fists balled, his blunt fingernails cutting into his palms. He was reminded that he needed to take a breath when his vision blurred. Isa’s delicate voice sliced into his brain a second later.
“Eli.”
The rush of adrenaline faded, and with it came a penetrating fear. For Isa. For what could have happened. And God help that asshole if he’d put a scratch on her.
Eli strode back to where she stood, her purse hanging open, the contents of her bag scattered on the ground beside her. She lifted a shaky hand to her hair as she pushed it behind one ear.
“Who was that?” he growled. “Tell me you had some clue.” Any description could help the cops.
“I…” Her face crumpled and she shook her head, her hair a mess and hanging in front of her beautiful face.
Shit, he was being insensitive. At ease, soldier. As much as he wanted to be able to describe the man who’d attacked her to the police, and as frustrated as he was that he couldn’t chase the attacker down on foot and beat him to a bloody pulp, Isa was his priority.
That became clear the second he wrapped her in his arms. Fragile and soft, she folded into him, burying her face in his shirt, her hands wrapped around the lapels of his leather coat. He shushed her, stroked her hair and back, and kissed the top of her head. She was safe now and that’s what mattered.
