cared. Really, really cared.
I was running toward him before I even realized it and then I was in his arms, wrapped in his strength and his warmth, feeling safe and secure and loved. My brother might have betrayed me, but this man never would. I was sure of that, if nothing else. The past had become my present and it would be my future. He would be my future.
There would be no repeat of mistakes made in the past.
“You okay?” he asked, his soft, warm tone cracking slightly with emotion.
He didn’t mean physically, I knew. “I will be, once I’ve grabbed some sleep.”
His arms tightened. I closed my eyes and listened to the rapid beating of his heart. It was a rhythm that matched my own and spoke of words neither of us were willing to say out loud yet. It was too soon, at least for him.
Mo cleared her throat. “Can we take this inside? The night is bitter, and these old bones need to get in front of the fire.”
“And I,” I said, “need to eat.”
“No,” Luc said, amusement in his voice. “You need to shower.”
I laughed and pulled away. “It can’t be too bad, given how tightly you were hugging me.”
“Oh, it is, but relief momentarily overwhelmed my sense of smell. That is no longer the case.”
“Then I shall go and shower while you, dear man, can prepare my dinner.”
“As you wish.” He bowed regally and stepped back. “You’ll find fresh clothes and your knives waiting for you upstairs.”
I glanced at him sharply. “You risked going back to our place for clothes?”
“No. I stole them.”
My gaze widened. “Really?”
“Truly. A man my size buying women’s clothing will always be memorable, and that’s something we couldn’t risk once you were freed.” Amusement shone in his eyes. “A Blackbird’s ability to become invisible to the eye isn’t always used for good.”
“That’s a certainty.” Mo closed the door and brushed an alarm spell across its surface. “I’ve got a myriad of tales about the less-than-salubrious actions past Blackbirds have taken.”
“We’ve never claimed to be saints.” The gleam in his eyes was decidedly wicked. “And I’m betting some of those actions would involve women.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Speaking from experience here, are we?”
“I refuse to answer that question on the grounds I may incriminate myself.” He paused. “But no instances involved married women, just in case you were wondering. I’ve always steered clear of that sort of problem.”
“Well, good, because a man who’d stray with a married woman is a man who would stray when he’s married.” I crossed my arms, my expression one of mock severity. “And I’ll have you know here and now, there will be no such straying when we’re married. Or nuts will be severed.”
He laughed. “My nuts will never be in any sort of danger, of that I can assure you.”
“Good,” I said primly, and finally looked around.
The ground floor of the old barn was one long room, its stone walls and beams on full show and utterly gorgeous. The log fire blazed at one end, the kitchen and the stairs leading up to the next floor were at the other.
I walked around the large, comfortable-looking sofa and headed up. There were three rooms up here—two bedrooms and a bathroom. I walked into the latter, stripped off my stinking, putrid clothes, and switched on the taps, waiting until the water was hot before stepping under. I scrubbed at my skin with the flowery soap, needing to remove the stench and the grime from every part of my body. It was a task that took far too long and, even after I’d stepped out, I could still smell traces of the thick, foul sludge. But maybe that was simply memory playing tricks.
I headed out naked to look for my clothes and found them sitting on the bed in the largest room. Luc had not only gotten a couple of pairs of jeans and sweaters, but also bras, panties, and boots. All of them fit perfectly. Obviously, the brief time we’d shared a bed at the safe house Ginny had organized had not gone astray.
Once I’d pulled on the new clothes and boots and strapped on my knives, I headed back down the stairs. Luc’s gaze swept me and came up pleased. “Glad they all fit.”
I walked over, dropped a kiss on his cheek, then leaned past his arm to see what he was cooking. “Yum. Spaghetti.”
“And it’s just about ready. You want to grab some bowls? They’re in