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“You done looking?”
Her cheeks flushed. “Sorry, it’s just so wonderful in here. I didn’t mean to stare.”
The corners of his eyes crinkled. “You like it?”
She cocked her head. “Well, yeah. Who wouldn’t? All it needs is snow outside and a fire blazing, and it’s the dream getaway for bookworms.”
His brow furrowed, and she got the feeling he wanted to ask her something, but instead he shook his head and sank into a worn armchair beside the fireplace. “Where do you plan to go?”
Her heart stuttered.
Nowhere.
She didn’t want to go anywhere but here. She didn’t have a Plan B. But she’d figure something out. “I’m not sure yet, but that’s not your concern.”
“Huh.” He snapped his fingers and something thudded behind her. Her pulse fluttered in fright, and she jerked, but it was only the Chihuahua, Pixie, who trotted across the floor and leapt onto his lap. She’d been curled up beside the pillows so Megan hadn’t noticed her. Now the dog studied her with beady eyes that were anything but friendly. She didn’t growl, though. So there was that.
“Why is Seeley James looking for you?”
“I’m afraid I can’t tell you.”
Tione stroked the length of Pixie’s body. “Can’t, or won’t?”
“Won’t.”
Charles and his family were well-connected. If he and Tione happened to have a mutual acquaintance, she’d be done the minute she opened her mouth. And if they didn’t… Well, suffice it to say, she wasn’t entirely sure he’d believe her. After all, who’d take her word over Charles’s?
He harrumphed. “Look, Megan,” she flinched again at the sound of her name, “I can’t help you if I don’t know what’s going on.”
She pressed her lips together and remained silent, waiting for him to lose his temper. He was getting impatient, she could sense it.
But he didn’t snap or strike out. Instead, he asked, “Have you broken any laws?”
“No, I haven’t.” Of that, she was sure. “I haven’t stolen anything, or hurt anyone either. At least, in a physical sense.”
Charles’s job prospects were another story. His domineering boss, Glenn, had made it clear that promotions only came when employees lived “the values” of the firm—some old-fashioned concept about supportive wives and two point five kids. As far as he was concerned, Megan perfectly fit the bill. She cringed at the thought. Who wanted to be known as the woman who made the ideal 1950s-style housewife? Especially by the kind of man who thought he could get away with feeling up her thigh beneath the dinner table while her boyfriend sat on her other side.
“Good.” He watched her thoughtfully, Pixie’s tail beating a rhythm on his lap. “I believe you.”
Her lips parted in surprise, and she dipped her head to analyze him from beneath her lashes. Was he trying to trick her into doing or saying something incriminating using reverse psychology? Why would he believe her, just like that? He had no reason to.
“Thank you,” was all she said. “But really, don’t worry. I’ll go pack my bags now and be on my way.”
6
Like hell wasshe going to head out into the world, alone and unprotected. Not on Tione’s watch. Jesus, the bruises on her face hadn’t even healed yet, and ribs took much longer than a few days to mend. He wouldn’t be responsible for putting an injured woman back in the sights of the men who’d hurt her.
He might not trust her—she was squirrelly as shit and there was a lot she wasn’t saying—but he believed she was the victim in all of this, and he wasn’t about to stand by while a woman was hurt. Not again, and especially not when it came to this woman, with her hair like gold and slim shoulders that looked like they’d buckle under the weight of a backpack, let alone anything else. And yeah, maybe he was a bad choice of guardian angel given how epically he’d failed in the past—how badly he’d let Michele down—but right now, he seemed to be all that Megan had.
“Seeley James,” he said, voice thick. “Was he the man who hurt you?”
Her eyes widened. “What makes you think it was a man who hurt me?”
He continued stroking Pixie, who’d settled on his knee, in the hopes it would make him appear less threatening to Megan. With his tattoos, muscles, and beard, he wasn’t exactly a pussy cat, but petting the dog could go a long way. It kept his hands occupied so she wouldn’t worry about him touching her, it showed how gentle he could be, and it soothed the angry beast inside him that wanted to beat the crap out of some asshole who really deserved it.
“You sure as hell weren’t in an accident. Those were handprints around your neck, Megan. Don’t think I didn’t notice.”
The neck in question seemed to shrink into her shoulders. “Did anyone else see?”
