Captive - Cheryl Brooks Page 0,52

pillow. Granted, it wasn’t much of a bed, but if her bed at their old headquarters was anything like Nexbit’s, this one was a definite improvement over her usual sleeping arrangements. “I’m going to sleep now,” she said with a yawn. “You can sleep wherever you like.”

The ball, as the saying went, was now in his court.

After a brief tussle with his conscience, exhaustion won out over, well, just about any and all arguments against sharing a bed with her.

Snatching the pillow from the floor, he tossed it onto the bed and sat down. The ancient bed frame creaked in protest but withstood the added weight. Suddenly, he didn’t care anymore. Didn’t care whether she thought he was a crook or not. Didn’t care if they were besieged by Nedwuts during the night.

I’ll think about all that tomorrow.

When a sniff in Klara’s direction yielded no hint of desire, he toed off his boots and lay down beside her.

Sleep was as welcome as it was instantaneous.

Chapter 14

Klara’s eyes flew open the moment daylight filtered through the tattered slats covering the lone window above the bed. As she listened closely, alert for any unusual sounds, her sharp hearing informed her that no one had invaded the house during the night. Exhaling a pent-up breath, she settled back against her pillow, savoring a rare moment of relaxation.

She longed for a day when she could simply lie in bed and let the morning unfold without leaping to her feet to assess the status of her gang or hold her breath as she listened for sounds of imminent danger. To simply luxuriate in her bed before rising to prepare a leisurely breakfast and linger over a hot cup of haeltdon tea would be such a joy. So joyous, she might even smile at whomever sat across the table from her.

“What are you thinking?” Moe whispered.

But for his warmth and the occasional shift of his weight, she might’ve forgotten he still lay there beside her. She hadn’t, of course. One didn’t bed down with an amazing, sexy man and not remember him when dawn finally arrived. “Wishful thinking, actually.”

He rose up on one elbow, facing her, his long dark curls draped tantalizingly over his shoulder. “About what?”

She should’ve dismissed the question. After all, her thoughts were her own. They seldom required sharing. Yet he cared enough to ask a second time.

Avoiding his gaze, she stared at the roughly patched ceiling. “I want to cook something.” She paused, frowning as she recalled a more innocent time when she had the freedom to do as she pleased. Almost. “I used to help my mother prepare our meals. The smells, the textures, the activity. It was…comforting. She taught me to make bread, to chop and season vegetables, to make the most of any meat we might have had the good fortune to acquire.” She let out a long, nostalgic sigh. “I even made a fruit pie once. Fruit was scarce, but we’d scrounged as much as we could and saved it for days until we had enough. It was so amazingly good. We didn’t stop eating it until it was all gone.”

“You lived in poverty even then, didn’t you?”

His voice was gentle and filled with understanding, yet she couldn’t suppress a roll of her eyes.

“Practically everyone in this city lives in poverty, or hadn’t you noticed?” She didn’t bother to wait for a response. “We were no different. Mother had a job, but it paid her very little. I can’t imagine how she would’ve kept us all fed if my brothers had lived.” She frowned again. “I think about them all the time. What our lives would’ve been like if they were still alive. If Pelarus hadn’t coveted my mother. If only we’d been allowed to live in peace.”

His fingertips brushed her forehead as he swept a stray lock of hair from her face, triggering a wave of warmth that flowed all the way to her toes. “That’s the kind of life we’ll be fighting for. A better life for those who have been denied it.”

As she recalled how many had already died trying to achieve that goal, a chill crept over her skin, banishing the warmth and making her shiver instead. “Sad that so many won’t have lived long enough to see it.”

“Especially when all they really wanted was the chance to enjoy the fruits of their labors.” Moe might never have wanted for anything, but he clearly understood the feelings of those whose very existence was thwarted