Page 21 of Triple Threat

“Afraid of what will happen if you’re rude to me now? I’d say we’re past that, aren’t we, Miss Brooks?” I blushed again and wouldn’t look at him, nudging my spoon through the soup in the shallow dish in front of me.

“Just one of the many things I have to worry about,” I said miserably.

“Ah,” he said, and I glanced up seeing understanding in his lightly colored eyes. “Afraid I’ll hurt you?”

“Or this Lock guy. I don’t know what either of you want…”

“I see,” he said, giving a sage and surprisingly elegant nod for a man of his size. “You’re afraid I’ll rape you? Or that I am saving you for Lach to do so?”

“Aren’t you?” I asked.

He snorted indelicately and shook his head, staring at the ceiling as though praying for patience. “I’ve no interest in hurting you, Sadie, and if he wants to harm you, it will be over my dead body.”

I bit my lips together and regarded him, looking for any trace of untruth. His face was inscrutable, unreadable, and it did nothing to reassure me. Nothing whatsoever.

He leaned forward slightly, the sound of rustling fabric making me jump, my hand tightening on my spoon. I was staring down into my soup again. I didn’t want to look; I didn’t want him to see me cry again. His hand appeared in front of me and I jerked my head up. He smiled a half-smile that made him even more handsome in a way, although to be honest, I think I liked him better with a little scruff versus the clean-shaven version in front of me.

“Don’t cry, Love,” he said gently, dragging a thumb along my lower lash line, wiping it absently on his pants. “The soup is perfectly salted as it is.”

I couldn’t help it, I cracked; a smile dragging at the corners of my lips.

“Ah, see, there you go, now. The chap’s not so bad after all, now is he?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” I said evenly and truthfully.

He leaned back and sucked in a breath saying, “I would like to propose a new beginning.”

“A what?” I asked.

“I would like to propose a do-over,” he declared. “Allow me, when you’re ready, to take you on a tour of the house. You may not be free to leave by Lach’s orders, but I would much rather you feel like a guest than a prisoner here.”

“Okay,” I murmured.

“Okay?” he asked, looking at me quite pleased but still needing… I don’t know, validation?”

I swallowed hard and nodded, slowly at first, then picking up speed. “Okay.”

His smile was genuine, and a bit victorious, but I couldn’t tell why.

“Finish your soup, Love. I’ll return with the main dish.”

He rose with a subdued grunt and limped out of the room.

I didn’t hear the lock click, but I didn’t trust that it wasn’t some sort of trap. It was raining, and I still didn’t have any shoes, and even wearing his sweater the dress being silk? There was no protection from the elements.

Plus, the soup was warm and really good, and itwasnice not having to fight for my next meal.

Still, I was scared. I didn’t know who Lock was, but he sounded like a real asshole. I couldn’t trust Roan to know what this Lock’s intentions were, but I knew that Roan somehow worked for him so there was no way to win him over. I mean, his loyalty was bought and paid for, right?

I sighed and stared at the rain trickling down the windowpane, at the glimmer of light over the waters out there, white capping in places, turbulent but still beautiful.

I felt that way sort of.

I mean, the clothes… they were soft against my skin and fit me perfectly and were in colors that I liked. You could dress a pig in these clothes and it would most definitely be made beautiful by them. That was partially alarming, though. The material so thin, so scant, it was hard not to feel sexy and pleasing in them but what did I need to be sexy for?Whowas I meant to please? And why?

I finished the soup, finished my cup of tea, too, and poured another one, using the little accompanying pot of honey to sweeten it.

It was nice. A book in my lap would make it perfect. It was, honestly, something I dreamed about when I fell asleep on the hard, concrete floor of the abandoned warehouse I’d been sheltering in.

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