"Well, Rhage... Thank you for tonight. For being so flexible, I mean."
He cursed quietly, thinking she should slap him instead of feel grateful. He'd nearly gotten her killed. She was now a target for the lessers. And if she knew half the things he wanted to do to her body, she'd probably lock herself in the bathroom.
"It's okay, you know," she murmured.
"What is?"
"I know you just want to be friends."
Friends?
She laughed tightly. "I mean, I don't want you to think I misinterpreted that kiss when you picked me up. I know it wasn't... you know. Anyway, you don't have to worry about me getting the wrong idea."
"Why do you think I'm concerned you might?"
"You're sitting on the other end of this couch stiff as a board. Like you're afraid I'm going to jump you."
He heard a noise outside and his eyes shot to the window on the right. But it was just a leaf blowing up against the glass.
"I didn't mean to make you feel awkward," she blurted. "I just wanted to... you know, reassure you."
"Mary, I don't know what to say." Because the truth would terrify her. And he'd lied to her enough already.
"Don't say anything. I probably shouldn't have brought it up. All I meant was, I'm glad you're here. As a friend. I really liked that ride in your car. And I like just hanging out. I don't need more from you, honestly. You're really good friend material."
Rhage sucked in a breath. In all his adult life, no female had ever called him a friend. Or valued his company for something other than sex.
In the Old Language, he whispered, "I am barren of words, my female. For no sounds from my mouth are worthy of your hearing."
"What language is that?"
"The one I was born speaking."
She tilted her head, considering him. "It's almost French, but not quite. There's something Slavic in there. Is it Hungarian or something?"
He nodded. "Basically."
"What did you say?"
"I like being here with you, too."
She smiled and put her head down.
As soon as he knew she was out, he unzipped the duffel and double-checked that the guns inside of it were loaded. Then he walked through her house, turning off every light. When it was pitch-dark, his eyes adjusted and his senses heightened even further.
He scanned the woods behind her house. And the meadow to the right. And the big farmhouse in the distance. And the street out front.
He listened, tracking the footfalls of animals across the grass and noting the wind as it brushed against the barn's wooden clapboards. As the temperature dropped outside, he sifted through the creaks of the house, testing, probing for a break-in. He prowled around, going from room to room, until he thought he was going to explode.
He checked his cell phone. It was on, with the ringer activated. And the thing was receiving a signal.
He cursed. Walked around some more.
The movie ended. He started it over in case she woke up and wanted to know why he was still there. Then he took another trip around the first floor.
When he was back in the living room, he rubbed his brow and felt sweat. Her house was warmer than he was used to, or maybe he was just pumped. Either way, he was hot, so he took off his jacket and put his weapons and the cell phone just inside the duffel bag.
As he rolled up his sleeves, he stood over her and measured her slow, even breaths. She was so small on that couch, smaller still with those strong, gray warrior eyes hidden behind lids and lashes. He sat down next to her and gently shifted her body so she was nestled in the crook of his arm.
Next to his brawn, she was tiny.
She stirred, lifted her head. "Rhage?"
"Go back to sleep," he whispered, urging her against his chest. "Just let me hold you. That's all I'm going to do."
He absorbed her sigh through his skin and closed his eyes as her arm went around his waist, her hand tucking into his side.
Quiet.
Everything was so quiet. Quiet in the house. Quiet out of doors.
He had a stupid impulse to wake her up and reposition her just so he could feel her ease against him once more.
Instead, he focused on her breathing, matching the draw and push of his own lungs to hers.