Frost Burned - By Patricia Briggs Page 0,96

kitchen and get started on the dishes while he ate.

"This is a big house," I said, instead. "But there is a pack of werewolves lurking somewhere as well as your daughter, her boyfriend, a police officer, a federal agent coming back shortly, and a pack of Sandoval girls. I'm not sure there's a spare space anywhere."

Adam smiled, and I was glad I hadn't just taken him to the kitchen. "Leave that to me."

We ended up sneaking out to the garage and up a rope ladder into the attic space above. Sunlight illuminated the room from a pair of skylights. The walls were finished and painted a light teal that complemented the dense cobalt carpet, but there were no lights or furniture.

"How did you know this was here?" I asked. I pulled up the rope ladder and pulled the trapdoor up until it latched. No sense giving obvious clues about where we were if we were going to sneak off alone.

Adam set his plate down on the floor.

"Warren. He said he and Kyle could keep everyone out of their bedroom, but that stealth might work better for us."

He looked at me and his warm brown eyes had a touch of gold and his voice was a little hoarse. "Let me see your skin, Mercy. I need to know you are okay."

I stripped, feeling a little self-conscious. I didn't mind being naked, but a woman likes to be pretty for her mate and I was covered with bruises, cuts, and bumps. My bad knee was swollen and probably purple to boot. At least my lips weren't silver anymore.

I didn't cover myself up, but I turned my back to him as I slid Kyle's sweats down my legs.

"Mercy," he said.

"Yes?" I glanced back at him to see that he was pulling off his shirt.

"A bargain for us," he said. "I will not hide from you if you don't hide from me."

The idea of Adam's hiding from anything left my mouth open while he made short work of the rest of his clothes, so I had to hurry to catch up. He was right. I didn't feel quite so naked when he was naked, too. He didn't say anything, just touched my bruises with light fingers.

When he paused at my cheek, I said, "That was the car wreck." He frowned at me. "Okay. The car wreck and then it hit the ground when the fae assassin jumped on my back."

We went on like that. Him touching a cut, a bruise, a bump, and I'd tell him what happened.

When he was finished, he put his forehead on my shoulder and pulled me hard against him. "You'll be the death of me," he told me. "I could wish you less bold, less brave - less driven by right and wrong."

"Too bad for you," I commiserated. "I know it's rough. My husband tried to kill himself to save the pack, you know. And earlier today, he faced down a fae he knew nothing about - and some of the fae are forces of nature."

"My wife was going to fight him," explained Adam. "I had to protect him from that."

I laughed.

"You know what Jesse's mother would have done if the feds came and took the pack while she was my wife?" he asked.

"Filed for divorce," I hypothesized.

It was his turn to laugh. "Point to you. And then she would go to everyone she knew and tell them how awful her life was, how people expected too much of her. Do you know what my second wife did?"

"Got beaten up and ran in circles mostly while you rescued yourself," I told him.

"She cared for the pack that was left," he said. "She got my child to safety. She got word to Bran - who sent help. She stepped between my child and those who would harm her."

I snorted. "Sounds like a paragon."

"She saved my life and gave me strength to save the rest of the pack." He heaved a sigh and pulled back so he could look at me. "And I have this urge to turn you over my knee and bruise your butt so that you do exactly what my first wife did."

I narrowed my eyes at him. "You ever lay a hand on me and you better never go to sleep again."

He laughed, sat down on the carpeted floor more as though he just couldn't stand up anymore than as if he'd actually made the decision to sit, and laughed some more. He was very, very tired

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