Last Kiss Goodnight - By Gena Showalter Page 0,101

some good news for you. You didn’t shoot yourself, or me.”

He ran his tongue over his teeth. “Let me guess. This is X’s doing?”

“It was a suggestion of his, yes,” she said, not wanting to get the little guy into trouble when he’d only wished to help.

“What else did he tell you to bring?”

“I’ll show you.” She withdrew a fork, toothpaste, lipstick, a condom, and scented body spray. “He told me that each one of these things was a necessity.”

“O-kay. So why the fork?” he asked.

That was the first question he had? Really? “X says we aren’t savages, and we aren’t to act as if we are.”

“And the lipstick?”

“That, he didn’t say.”

“No bottles of water? No food?”

“No. But I’m guessing that’s because we can melt and drink the snow, and X knew you could catch”—she waved her hand toward the fire—“things.”

“And the condom? The single condom?”

Annnd there was the question she’d assumed he would ask at the start. “It’s not my fault,” she said, fighting a blush. “I’m embarrassed, too, but he said to grab it, so I grabbed it.”

“Yeah, but we probably aren’t embarrassed for the same reasons,” he muttered.

Why was he embarrassed, then?

He took the fork and stomped back to the makeshift kitchen, where he placed juicy chunks of meat on a large, flat stone. “There’s a river a few yards north, and I’ve already cleaned the stone,” he said, handing it to her. “We aren’t savages, right, and I won’t have you eating off a dirty plate.”

A beat of surprise as she absorbed his words. What a sweet, sweet man, considering her in all things, even the little things. “Thank you,” she said with a bright smile.

“Welcome. Now, here’s the fork.” He held out his hand.

She shook her head. “No, thank you. That’s for you.”

“I’m not going to use a fork while you’re stuck using your fingers. Take it.”

“No.”

He frowned but stuffed the utensil back into the bag. “Fine. We’ll both be savages.”

“Fine.” After she’d taken a few bites of the most delicious meal of her life, she moaned and said, “Is there anything you can’t do?” And maybe she was a savage, because she wanted to continue stuffing her face while she was talking—and she wanted to chew what remained of the meat off the bone. “You have no need for a chef at your farm.”

“And yet I still want one,” he muttered.

Did that mean what she thought it meant? That he still wanted Vika there? “Sweet” barely scratched the surface, she realized. “I want you to know, while we’re on our journey, I’m not going to let you down or hold you back. I’ll keep up, I promise.”

“Don’t push yourself too hard.”

“I won’t,” she said, which was the truth. She planned to push herself way too hard. He’d only helped her. She wouldn’t hinder him.

• • •

Solo finished eating and stuffed all the “necessities” back into the bag, as well as the blanket he’d stolen, and hefted the stupid thing over his shoulder, then one rifle, then the other. He would have given Vika one of the weapons, but no, that was never going to happen now. Not even if his life depended on it.

“I rigged a place for you to take care of any pressing needs you might have,” he said, and watched as color once again brightened her cheeks.

“Thank you,” she replied, comprehending. “But, uh . . . where is it?”

He pointed, enchanted by her unease for some reason. They’d spent six days together, trapped in a ten-by-ten cage. They’d gone over this type of thing. But his little Vika was prim and proper, he supposed—until he kissed her.

Any time he remembered their kiss, a fire ignited in his blood, and a deep awareness bloomed where primal instinct seethed. It was wonderful. . . . It was terrible. . . . He wanted her, but he couldn’t have her. Not out here, in the open, where anyone else could stumble upon them.

At least he understood a little more about her now—and how much he’d misunderstood her in the beginning and even moments before. No wonder she’d always wanted to live on her own. No wonder she had wanted to spend the rest of her life alone. It was a miracle she’d ever allowed Solo to come near her.

Vika stood, stumbled through the snow, and soon disappeared behind a wall of winter leaves. The area was close enough that he could hear if anyone approached her, but far enough away that she would feel