Page 43 of The Sinner's Bargain

But I stared at the offering, then the woman unable to meet my eye. The thoughtfulness of the simple gesture kept me from saying as much, nor could I bring myself to refuse her.

Careful not to spook her, I pushed my chair back. I took the bowl and spoon and took them back to where her book lay open. I returned both to the tray and replaced them with the salad and a fork.

“Eat your soup, love,” I told her, returning to my desk with the salad.

She fell asleep with the book tucked against her chest like a teddy bear. I considered waking her, but pulled the Afghan off the sofa instead and draped it over her. I started to straighten when her scent hit me square in the chest. A subtle hint of pine ... and me. It shouldn’t have but the impact of me on her skin crashed through me with a vengeance that snatched the air from my lungs. My head swam with it. I had to curl my fingers into fists to keep from touching her. Keep from putting my smell on her myself.

I had to take a step back, turning my thoughts to the how when I remembered leaving a bottle of shampoo in her room after my shower needed repairing a few months back. It must have slipped my mind it was in there.

Cooke brought supper and I told him to put her plate away. I ate mine at the desk while watching her. Even in sleep, she curled into herself like she always had to keep her guard up. Her hands were bunched fists next to her slightly parted lips.

I considered leaving her there overnight, but the office was always too cold at night, and I didn’t want her waking up in a strange place.

When I was done, I went to her and gathered her up, blanket and all, and carried her up to her room. I laid her on the bed. I washed her feet carefully without waking her before tucking her in.

I brushed a curl off her cheek. Let my fingers linger on her soft skin. “You’re going to be the death of me. I know it.”

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

NAYA

I woke in darkness.

Not absolute, but enough to have me scrambling to the nightstand and the safety of the lamp. My fingers yanked on the chain. The momentum nearly tipped the light over, but it was on, and the world was a safe place once more.

I drew in a breath filled with mold and dust and allowed my eyes to close for only a moment before falling back against the pillows.

I was in my room.

I couldn’t be sure how, but the canopy loomed over me, and the magnificent walls of books were gone. My disappointment was weighted as I tried to remember when I’d dragged myself upstairs.

I hadn’t.

I was sure of that. The only other explanation was that Lacroix had carried me up. Again. He seemed to enjoy the process, though I wasn’t sure how I felt about it. I definitely didn’t hate it, which was suicidal. I was supposed to be finding ways to escape, not taking naps in his office. Although, it had been much more comfortable than I’d expected. And that was another problem — I was getting far too comfortable. Waltzing through a place crawling with strange men practically naked should have raised all manner of concerns, but not a single person had given me a second glance. I could have been part of the furniture for all the attention I was given by the guards who passed me in the corridors. I wasn’t complaining even though I suspected Lacroix had something to do with that, too.

What an odd man.

The first night we met, he’d killed a man. I doubted it was his first time; he blew Tayen’s hand almost clean off the wrist in the dark from almost two feet, yet he’d been incredibly gentle and kind with me.

He was friends with Jarrett, but he was nothing like Jarrett.

He was not a good man and still, he’d taken care of me.

If there was ever a walking contradiction, Lacroix was at the very top.

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