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Jayden frowned at me. “What are you looking at?”
I hadn’t realised I’d been staring, and I turned my head, my cheeks heating. “Sorry, nothing. Just zoned out there.”
“Do I need to get you a doctor? You are hurt.”
I shook my head. “No, it’s fine. Just a few scrapes and bruises.”
The thought of the attack sent ice into my veins. Yes, it was only a few scrapes and bruises, and those injuries would heal within a week, but the memory of the utter terror and panic of the knowledge of what those men planned to do to me would stay with me far longer. The helplessness had been terrible, too. I’d always thought myself untouchable because of who my family was, but the moment I’d stepped out of the umbrella of that protection, that had been what happened.
Had it been my fault? Had I been asking for it? I guessed that was what those men would say if they were questioned—that I’d been wearing a short skirt and no bra, and that I’d had a couple of drinks and had been on my own. Why else would I have been doing all those things if I hadn’t been up for a good fuck?
If only they’d known...
A tear trickled down my cheek, and I twisted my face and used my shoulder to wipe it away.
I caught him watching me with a frown. “You’re not okay.”
“It’s been a long night. I’ll be fine.”
I still wasn’t even sure I could trust him, but what choice did I have? I wished I had someone I could rely on to help. It wasn’t that I didn’t have friends—I wasn’t that lame—but did I have ones who I could trust to keep their mouths shut? Well, that was a whole different thing. When you belonged to a family known for beating or killing anyone who went against them, it was hard to find people who wouldn’t fold the minute they were asked something.
“Why are you helping me?” I asked him.
The corner of his lips curled. “Because I’m a gentleman, of course, and when I see a woman in distress, I can’t help but offer my assistance.”
I snorted at that. “Jayden Wynter is a gentleman? Since when?”
He put his hand to his chest. “You crush me, Miss Gilligan. What are you implying?”
“That the Jayden I know has never been a gentleman in his life.”
He shrugged. “Maybe I’ve changed.” He walked over to an expensive-looking cabinet. “Do you want a drink? It might help with the shock.
I glanced down to where my hands trembled. I spread open my fingers and then clenched them into fists again. “Yeah, sure. Why not.”
“Vodka?” he offered. “It’s Russian and good.”
“Honestly, it’s all the same to me. I’m not fussy.”
He gave me a look and then shrugged and poured a couple of fingers of vodka into two heavy crystal tumblers.
“I didn’t think you would be like this,” I admitted as he handed me the glass.
He tilted his head slightly, curious. “Like what?”
“Nice,” I admitted. “Kind.”
His eyes narrowed a fraction. “I’m not.”
“You’re being nice and kind to me. Unless there are ulterior motives, of course.”
Maybe there were.
A frisson of discomfort went through me.
I raised the glass to my lips and downed the drink in one. Fire burned down my gullet, and I gasped, my eyes watering a little.
Jayden hadn’t even sipped his yet, and he regarded me with amusement. “Another?”
