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“All right, what’s up?”
She took a deep breath, wracked by nerves. “I just wanted to let you know that I’m okay.”
“Why wouldn’t you be? Meg, you’re worrying me.”
Just say it.
“I broke up with Charles and he didn’t take it well. I’m hiding out for a while until he cools down.”
“Hiding out?” Mikayla’s voice rose. “Where? And why? You’re telling me you’re okay, but that’s really not how it sounds, sis.”
“I promise I’m okay.” She gripped the phone tighter and fought back tears. “I can’t tell you where I am because I don’t want everyone rushing over to check on me yet. I’m safe. Can you let Mum and Mark know?”
“They’ll worry.” Now Mikayla’s tone was chiding.
“I know.”
She sighed. “Fine, I’ll pass the message along.”
“You’re the best. I’ll call again as soon as I can. Bye.” With that, she hung up before Mikayla could change her mind or ask any more questions. Her head flopped back and she closed her eyes. Even that hurt, but much less than it had a few days ago. She was healing. The knowledge that her family would be concerned for her bothered her more than the physical pain of her injuries.
She summoned a burst of energy, stood, and left the cabin to find Tione. He was in the garden, tussling with a tawny brown dog with a square face and wrinkled forehead. She handed him his cell phone with a quick thanks and hurried off. She desperately needed a shower to wash away everything that had just happened.
7
Tione spentmost of the afternoon trying to make sense of Megan and her predicament. He’d deduced three things:
1. She was the victim in this scenario.
2. She was running from someone, and that someone was associated with Seeley James.
3. She’d be better off looking for help elsewhere, but if she refused to turn to the authorities, then he was all she had, and he couldn’t abandon her.
Hewouldn’tabandon her.
Maybe he was a terrible choice of protector, but someone had to keep her safe. She was too fragile to be alone in the world right now.
He didn’t see her again until he was in the kitchen, preparing for dinner. She came in with damp blonde hair tied back, the tail curling around the nape of her neck. She’d applied makeup over what remained of the bruising on her cheek, and with the glossy sheen on her lips, she looked almost normal.
Attraction fisted in his gut. With her angelic features and graceful movements, it was difficult to tear his gaze from her, but he ruthlessly squelched his reaction. It wasn’t right to feel that way about someone who’d been in the wars as much as she had.
“I’m here to help make dessert,” she said, her pointed chin set stubbornly as though she expected him to argue.
“Great,” he said, gesturing to the pile of apples. “Start peeling.”
She helped herself to a hairnet, and he watched out the corner of his eye as she washed her hands and got to work peeling the mountain of apples as efficiently as she had the vegetables this morning. She was capable, he’d give her that, and he wondered again if she’d worked in the food industry.
“Tell me a bit about yourself.”
For a long moment, she stayed silent and he thought she wouldn’t answer. It wasn’t as if she’d willingly shared anything with him so far. But then she surprised him.
“When you guessed earlier that I might have been a caterer, you weren’t far off. I’m a qualified baker, and I used to work at a high-end French bakery in Auckland, but I’ve been officially unemployed for the past few months.” She made a cute little huffing sound that might have been a laugh. “It’s been a weird experience.”
His cheeks heated, and he was grateful for his darker complexion, which masked his blush. Being a baker, she was probably accustomed to making delicate pastries and indulgent cheesecakes, while he had her peeling apples, something far beneath her skill set.
“You could probably bake an apple crumble in your sleep.”
“Mm,” she agreed, “but there’s something about simple desserts that I absolutely adore. I’ve baked for some of the most exclusive events in Auckland, and I’ve made thousand-dollar wedding cakes, but comfort food is my first love.”
