Page 78 of Luck of the Draw

His hand settled on the back of her head, and it was only then that she noticed someone had braided her hair while she was unconscious. So much simple kindness. Why couldn’t everything be that simple and that kind?

“I have to be honest with you, Skye. There’s no way I’m going to be able to do that. I’ll take you wherever you need to go when you’re healed up, but if you think I can just cut ties with you after this, you’re crazy.”

This was the nightmare she’d been trying to avoid, and why hadn’t she just paid for a cab? No. She knew why she couldn’t do that. Knew why she couldn’t hit up the bus. Knew why she couldn’t just get a hotel. And Skye had never felt more trapped in her entire life as a caged bird.

She sobbed harder, and Brennan lifted her torso to hold her against his chest. “Baby, if you are in fear for your life, I can’t just drop you off somewhere. If what you need is to just get away from New Orleans, I can help you make arrangements somewhere. My family knows people all over the country, and I can help you find a safe place. I can help—”

“You can’t. You can’t be involved in this. You can’t be involved with me.”

Brennan framed her face with his hands and forced her to look at him. His face was like etched granite while spliced with utter tenderness. Just like everything about him, his expression was simultaneously hard and gentle.

“I’m already involved.” He gently stroked his thumbs under her eyes, wiping her tears. “I’m already completely involved, sweetheart.” He broke their intense gaze to nod at her leg and arm. “You were in a weeks-long coma. You’ve got a bunch of fractures and broken bones. You have to stick around for a bit. When you heal up, I’ll take you anywhere you want. But make no mistake, I am involved. Period.”

Skye dropped her gaze but still allowed him to hold her face. His palms were wet with the tears that wouldn’t stop.

“What about your family? Do you have family somewhere?”

She gave a slight shake of her head, and he stroked her cheek with his thumb.

“I’m so sorry to hear that.” Brennan paused for a long time, and she could only imagine the how hard and fast the gears in his head were turning. “And you’re not from out of town, are you? You live in New Orleans, don’t you?”

She nodded. Part of her expected him to slap her face for lying. That’s what people did to Skye if they thought she was lying. The last thing in the world she expected was for Brennan to lean forward and kiss her softly, but that’s what he did. And her heart ached so badly she thought it might come apart at the seams.

“I’m sorry, Brennan. It was wrong of me to lie to you, but…but…”

“Don’t apologize. I understand. You’re in trouble. You didn’t know who I was. But I hope now you can at least see that you can trust me.”

“It’s never been about not trusting you.”

Not really at least. She trusted him as much as she needed to, which meant she knew he wasn’t going to physically hurt her. The truth about her life was an entirely different animal.

“Then I need you to tell me your last name. The cops need it, and the hospital needs it. I’d hope you can at least trust me as much as you trust them.”

God damn it.

She wearily turned her eyes up to meet his. “Skye is sort of a nickname. My real name is Isabel Cochran.”

19

FRENCH QUARTER, NEW ORLEANS

Isabel, Brennan mused for the umpteenth time as he slowly weaved his BMW through the French Quarter, finally bringing Skye home from the hospital.Isabel Cochran.

He couldn’t stop rolling her real name over in his mind. It was a beautiful name. Beautiful in a way that suited the rest of her uncommonly beautiful appearance.

Skye…Isabel…Isabel…Skye…whoever she was, she was in trouble. And Brennan was a sucker for a damsel in distress.

The damned personality flaw strikes again.

It was the basis of the feelings that took root the moment he saw her traumatized behavior and the bruises, and what could he do? He had to save her.

And now…knowing that she was in real trouble—like severe, life-threatening trouble—there was no turning back. He was involved. Just like he told her. And even more than that, the feelings had intensified, and that was marginally terrifying. Feelings didn’t exactly have a solid track record of working out for Brennan. His feelings for Josephine hadn’t. His feelings for Liza sure as fuck hadn’t. And now, his feelings had targeted someone desperate to get as far away from his city—and, by extension,him—as possible.

After he pulled the car up to the curb, Brennan helped Skye climb out, bracing his arm around her waist as she hobbled on a walking boot, her arm immobilized against her torso. The walking boot smacked against the first step leading to Brennan’s front door.

“Hang on, baby doll. I’ll carry you,” he said, reaching to unlock and swing open the door.

“You don’t need to carry me. I can do it just fine.” She lifted her leg with what appeared to be great effort. “This thing just feels heavy.”

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