Page 57 of Blind Prophet

The cabin appears intact. The explosion originated in the back, near where I presume the engine is.

“It’s already exploded,” I say, studying the crash. The burning scent lingers in the air, but it’s lessening. I no longer hear crackling.

“Doesn’t mean it won’t again.”

If the team’s tracking me, Sophia will be worried. “The phone is likely near my seat,” although, as I say it, I recognize the futility in the argument.

“I won’t let you risk your life for a phone. I’ll buy you a new one.”

I scowl but drop it, recognizing that when the rescue team arrives, they’ll retrieve what they can safely. Depending on its proximity to the explosion, it may no longer function. The explosion was a short burst and quickly fizzled. It’s hard to estimate the heat level that would have penetrated the cabin.

We both stare at the wreck. One of his arms loops behind my back, and one of his hands rests on my knee, as if he needs to touch me, but his thoughts are elsewhere.

“What’re you thinking?” I ask.

“Nothing.”

“Why do you do that?” I push up off his chest, but he keeps his arm secured around my waist. One eyebrow arches. It’s his silent way of asking what I mean. I don’t know how I ever fell in love with this silent, uncommunicative man. “You’re clearly thinking something. Why do you keep everything trapped in there?”

I gesture to his head as if it’s a fly I need to swat.

His loud exhale resembles an amused, half-hearted chuckle. “It’s learned behavior.”

“You’re blaming this on your dad?” I should push away, but I’m chilled, and there’s nowhere else to go at the moment.

“My dad?” He sounds offended. “I meant you.”

“What?” How dare he.

“If I know that what I’m going to say will upset you, we’re better off if I don’t speak.”

I reel back, flabbergasted.

“See? We would’ve been better off if I hadn’t said that.”

“We would’ve been better off if you hadn’tthoughtit.”

He pulls me back against him, and I push back. I’d rather be cold.

“You’re shivering. Come here.”

He’s right. I’m freezing. I relax enough that I give in to his tug and return to his chest. He rubs a hand over my arm, back and forth, generating heat.

“When we were crashing, I zoned out. Focused on what I’d learned during flying lessons.”

“You saved us,” I say, looking at the wreck before us. I know nothing about flying helicopters, but I fully expect that when the others get here, they’ll be talking about what an excellent job he did improvising. He’s a master at everything he does.

“But my first thought, after I got you out of the helicopter? After I realized you weren’t injured and we survived?”

My eyes burn, and I close them. I turn my head into Dorian’s chest, warming my icy nose on his shirt.

“We could’ve died.”

No shit.

“And I would’ve never told you that you’re the best thing that ever happened to me. There’s not a lot in my life that I would do over if given the chance, but you’re the one thing I’d do again a thousand times over.”

His hold on me tightens ever so slightly. I swallow hard and pull back just enough to look at his face, my fingers involuntarily curling into the fabric of his shirt. The raw honesty in his eyes catches me off guard, and I force myself to take a steadying breath.

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