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Because she had no other options, and because she simply couldn t bring herself to leave his presence.
Which rattled her severely.
Baden walked to the kitchen, helped himself to three bagels, and a couple bottles of water. He shoved
one of each at her as he walked past, then eased himself onto the edge of his bed, the only place to sit in
the room. The faded blue blankets were askew from him ripping off the comforter, and one of the pillows
was on the floor.
He opened his water, took a big bite of the bagel, and leaned back, wincing slightly when his back hit
the wall. His body was solid and well muscled as he hooked his arm over the pine headboard. The body
of a warrior. There was a scar above his right eye, and his nose looked like it had been shattered more
than once, giving him the appearance of a soldier who had endured the worst and come out the victor.
His blue eyes regarded her coldly. Waiting.
You have no other options.She willed herself courage, then dragged herself and the comforter across
the room and sat down at the other end of the bed. She faced him, tucking her feet up under her to keep
her toes from brushing against his heavily muscled thigh.  I m Meghan Baxter.
He narrowed his eyes.  What do you want?
She met his gaze, trying to keep the desperation out of her voice.  I need your help.
His face grew hard and unreadable, and she flinched at the sudden thread of warning in the air.Get the
fuck away from me. The message was clear, and she felt it pushing at her like a hot brand, driving her to
jump to her feet and run to the door.
But she had no choice. She dug her toes into the blankets and ordered her body to stay where it was.
 No.
 He looked confused for a minute.  No, what?
 I m not getting the fuck away from you as you so eloquently put it.
Tension snapped through his body, and he jerked upright.  You heard that?
 Of course. How could I not? I d have to be dead not to.
He cursed and shoved to his feet with a groan of pain that made her heart tighten.  Are you all right?
she asked.
He ignored her question, running his hand through his hair in agitation.  How the hell did you hear my
thoughts? He leaned over her suddenly, his hands on the blankets on either side of her hips, his face in
her space.  Tell me  He stopped suddenly, and he bent closer and inhaled.  Fuck. You smell
unbelievable.
 Your thoughts? she echoed.  I can t read thoughts. Her spine curled at the deep rumble of his voice,
at the intensity of his voice, stripping right through her and burning her skin. She immediately leaned back,
trying to get away from him, even as she wanted to lean into him, to press her nose against his neck, to
inhale the scent that was him.What is wrong with me?
He cursed and pulled away, jerking his hands back to his sides. His jaw was clenched, with a shaggy
beard covering it. It didn t look like he was wearing a beard on purpose; it looked like he hadn t
bothered to shave in weeks. He was wearing black jeans, an old gray tee shirt, and a hip-length black
leather jacket that was creased, battered and ripped to shreds over his left forearm. It looked like it had
been worn so much that it had become part of his body. Like it belonged on him.
He shifted, and a flash of pain crossed his face before he could school them into a neutral expression.
Concern flared inside her, and she grabbed his hand before she could stop herself, her fingers closing
over the roughness of his skin  You re hurt? Shock rattled her as soon as their skin touched, and she felt
herself falling
He growled and yanked his hand out of hers.  You need to get out. Now. I have . . . things I have to do.
Someone to find and kill. He added the last as if trying to scare her, then he spun away from her,
grabbed a heavy parka from his armoire and held it out.  This will keep you dry and warm. Now, get
out.
She stood up and faced him, making no move to take the coat, realizing she probably had about two
seconds before he picked her up and tossed her out the door. Here was her moment. Succeed or fail. It
was now.  I m here because I need your help finding my sister. She couldn t keep the pain out of her
voice, and Baden visibly winced.  She s missing.
His hand went to her face, and his fingers drifted over her cheek with the lightest touch, making her
throat tighten. She froze, afraid any movement from her would destroy the moment, drive him away.
Then he cursed, dropped his hand and strode past her. He swept her backpack off the floor and yanked
open the front door.  Out. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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