“You’re scared of men. I get it. But you don’t have to—”
“I’m not scared of men! I’ll have you know—”
“—worry on my farm,” he interjected, forcing her to be quiet or miss what he was saying. “You’d cook, clean, and feed the animals. You’re used to that, right?”
Her mouth floundered open and closed. “That was a low blow.”
“How so?” he asked, confused and irritated that she wasn’t more willing. That she didn’t seem to want him as much as he wanted her.
Golden brown lashes fused together. “You think that’s all I’m good for.”
“I do not.”
A thick white fog suddenly rolled through the bars, black burning at the edges and claiming his attention. What the—
“We have arrived,” Vika said, her voice now devoid of emotion. “The fog should clear within the next half hour, and we will be in our new location.”
Twenty-one
Hold on to instruction, do not let it go; guard it well, for it is your life.
—PROVERBS 4:13
NEVER WOULD VIKA HAVE guessed she would mourn the loss of the Nolands. But she did, and she would have given half of her treasure to return for a few weeks. She might have given all of her treasure to stay forever. In a matter of days, Solo had become one of her favorite things in the whole world. He was even better than chocolate!
She no longer feared his temper. After all, she’d angered him several times, but not once had he struck her. She’d even hit him, but instead of raging, he’d showed her how to hit him harder.
He was pragmatic and morose, but he was also kind and caring. And he had an unexpected sense of humor, one she didn’t think he’d known about. One she’d managed to bring to the surface, surprising them both. He’d even offered her a home and a job, and maybe he’d done it out of pity, maybe he’d done it to keep her from changing her mind about freeing him, but still he’d done it. He was such a good man.
She shouldn’t have rejected him so forcefully, shouldn’t have hurt his feelings, but when the sudden burst of joy his offer had brought had faded, new fears had surfaced. What if she moved in, he got tired of her, and kicked her out? Or what if he got tired of her, let her stay, and brought a girlfriend home?
Vika’s hands curled into tight little fists at just the idea of Solo pressing those soft lips onto another woman’s mouth.
Why did she feel this way? No matter how much she wanted him, no matter how possessive she realized she was, she couldn’t allow herself to fall into a relationship already doomed to fail. Yes, they seemed to have gotten past the circumstances that had brought them together. Yes, she loved spending time with him. But what about the future? How was she supposed to make him happy outside the circus?
It would be better for her to stick with her current plan. She would buy a new ID for herself, find the cuff key, free the otherworlders once and for all, and cut her ties with the circus. And if not the ID, then the home in New Colorado. No one would ever be able to kick her off her own land, or escort the woman who’d won Solo’s heart to her door.
A hand on her shoulder, tugging her from her mind.
“Are you okay?” Solo asked, crouching beside her, his features tight with concern.
Oddly enough, she could truthfully say, “Yes. Why?”
“Look at yourself.”
She did. Her clothes were a little dirty, a little wet. Nothing was out of place, though she was trembling from the chill.
The chill. Sweet mercy, but the temperature had taken a nosedive. She realized she’d wrapped her arms around her middle, trying to huddle into herself for warmth. “C-cold,” she said, teeth chattering now that reality had made itself known.
Solo, who wore nothing more than the loincloth, wound their only blanket around her shoulders and tugged her against his chest.
His heart drummed against her shoulder, soothing her. She could have stayed in his arms forever—which was exactly why she had to pull away from him. And she would . . . after just a minute more . . . no, two minutes more . . . three . . . he was hot, a living furnace, and . . . and . . . and he had kissed her just a little while ago, and she still craved another, loooonger,