Page 11 of Isabelle & Jason
Because something told her that if she could piece it all together, she might be able to get closure. Then again, maybe she fed off the pain these days and was a glutton for punishment.
“Are you okay?” a low voice said.
Isabelle screamed, then clapped her hand over her mouth. Her head whipped up to find a tall figure standing a few feet away from her.
Male.
Immediately her harsh breathing got worse. Spots formed in her eyes. Her stomach tossed again, and her grip on her mouth tightened.
He stepped toward her, and she held up her other hand, trembling. “No. Don’t come any closer.”
The man stopped short. “I’m not going to hurt you,” he said quietly. His voice was like warm caramel and chocolate. It was sweet and inviting.
And exactly what a predator might use to lure an unsuspecting woman to her doom.
Isabelle shook her head again. “I don’t care. Don’t get any closer or I’ll scream.”
He dropped down to a crouch and peered at her. One side of his mouth quirked upward. “Well, you’ve already done that, and I don’t see the cavalry coming yet.”
“Is that a threat?” she demanded, moving gingerly to get to her feet. She kept her eyes trained on him so she could prepare herself if he were to lunge for her. “I’ve taken karate classes.”
“Good for you.” He rose slowly but didn’t come closer. “Maybe you could teach me a thing or two.”
“Pass,” she muttered. Her stomach swirled again, and she placed a hand there in an attempt to quell it. With slow movements, she made to move past him, but he shifted and blocked her path. “Move… please.”
“You look kind of green.”
“And you should probably work on your pickup lines.”
He laughed, and the sound of it stopped the world from spinning. “I’m not trying to hit on you, Isabelle.”
So he knew her name. That wasn’t a surprise. He worked here after all. Four years of sticking it out in the same place would do that to a guy. Isabelle peered at him closer. He was familiar enough that she knew he worked for her brother, but she hadn’t bothered to get to know him personally. She preferred to keep to herself.
“Come here, let me get you something.” He stepped toward her again and immediately she held up both hands. When she opened her mouth to warn him off, he stepped back again. Then he held out his hand. “I’m about to start on breakfast. And by the looks of it, you’re a little unsteady on your feet.”
She eyed him suspiciously. Rule number one after the incident: Don’t be alone with a man. Ever.
“I swear, I’m not going to try anything. Just let me… help.” Boy, he was good. He had that pleading tone down perfectly. Butthat wasn’t what bothered her the most. It was the way he stared at her.
It wasn’t the kind of look a predator gives his prey. She didn’t get the sense that he wanted to hurt her. And yet his unwavering stare unnerved her.
“It’s French toast day. You like that, right?”
She gave a small nod.
He jerked his chin toward the building where everyone took their meals. “Then come with me. I’ll give you the first batch.”
Isabelle stared down at his offered hand, then back to his face. “Okay.”
He pushed his hand out to her again, indicating he wanted to escort her.
“I’m good.” She shook her head, then lifted her injured leg. Wiggling it only offered a small ache. “I’m sure I can walk. It’s just a little sore.”
The man nodded, then turned so he could walk beside her.
It wasn’t lost on her that he kept his distance just enough to ensure they didn’t touch. And for some reason, that brought a small smile to her face.
What was his name? She’d interacted with him before. Jeremy? John? It started with a “J.” Maybe she could ask Camilla. Her sister was good with names. More than that, she was the more social one in the family.
