to make up for it.” She pulled a small but thick book from the deep pocket of her lightweight jacket and handed it to him.
Looking down, he read Tales from the Dark. Shade glanced back up, and he could have sworn she was blushing.
“It’s not in great shape because it’s old, and I’ve read it a lot, but you know Susan, and you seem to like books…”
Even though he wanted to have something of Tess’s, Shade tried to hand it back. “If it’s a favorite, you should keep it.”
She shook her head and pushed it back toward him. She also picked up the money and put it on top. “I hope this will be enough. Along with my thanks for your help.”
“Yeah, about that…” Shade put the whole pile on the counter next to her and then stepped back. “I don’t think—”
“Please,” she interrupted. “It’s all I’ve got.”
She didn’t beg, but she was sincere. And strong. And beautiful.
His chest grew tight. He wanted her in his life. In his bed. He wished she’d never walked into his shop.
“Then like I said, you should keep it,” Shade told her, sounding hoarse.
She blinked. “What?”
“Keep it. Keep it all,” he said.
“I-I can’t do that.” She glanced around, as if looking for answers somewhere on the rows of shelves.
When her blue eyes came back to him, he asked, “Why not?”
She frowned. “Because I owe you.”
“I say that you don’t, so you don’t.”
Her frown deepened. “I do, and you have to take it.”
Rebels were always dirt-poor. Why didn’t she want her money back? “Look, Tess, I’m not—”
“Take it. Promise me you will.” She interrupted him again, which was probably a good thing, because he had no idea how to end that sentence.
I’m not who you think I am? I’m not going to hurt you? I’m not your enemy? I’m not your friend? I’m not what exactly? Maybe if he could decide, he’d know.
Shade blew out a breath. “Why? Tell me why. And you’re a shit negotiator, by the way.”
She smiled and seemed to relax. “You’ll take it? You swear?”
“Why?” he asked again.
“Just promise me,” Tess insisted.
“Fine.” He could always find a way to give it back later—if she lived.
A bullet seemed to plow through his heart at the thought of Tess not making it out of this.
“Now why?” he practically bit out.
He thought her shoulders went back at his surly tone, but it was only to shrug off her jacket. It hit the floor, leaving her in a little black dress.
His pulse quickened with a lurch. Slowly, she dragged the side zipper down. The front and back of her dress began to separate until they were a lot like him—torn in half.
Tess pushed the straps off her shoulders, and her dress fell, pooling around her feet. Heat blazed through him. She wasn’t wearing anything underneath.
She raised her chin a notch. “So you don’t think this is in any way an offer to pay for my ship.”
Shade’s mouth went bone-dry. She was stunning. Every single part of her was perfect.
Except… His eyes narrowed. There were bruises and needle marks all over her skin.
“What the fuck is that?” he demanded, picking up her hand and holding one arm up to the low light.
She seemed to recoil, and he let her slip from his grasp. “Nothing you need to worry about,” she said.
Was this about the orphanage again? More blood? “I hope you’re staying hydrated,” he ground out. That was all he could manage. His jaw had locked up tight.
Tess nodded, like she knew all about this, like maybe she did crazy shit like this all the time, and he was gripped by the sudden urge to rattle something. Not her. Just something—to get some aggression out.
“Why?” he asked, curling his hands into fists.
Her eyes flashed. “They’re children.”
Did that answer his question? He wasn’t sure it did.
“Yeah, and they’ve got people taking care of them already. Why you? What does it mean to you?” He pushed for answers, for something from her, like he always did. With Tess, he couldn’t seem to stop himself.
Her reaction was fast, almost frantic, and stronger than he’d bargained for. “I grew up there! I rocked some of those kids. Played with them. Read to them. Buried too many that I couldn’t help!” Her breath hitched, and a sheen of tears brightened her eyes. “Didn’t know I could help.”
Shade felt like a bastard when he pushed for more. “You’re from 12.”
“I’m from 8!” She looked like she wanted to ball up her fist