Page 94 of When He Protects

In her.

Yeah, but he was trying to hold the hell back. Danger stalked them. He shouldn’t be jumping the woman at the first opportunity. Even though that was very, very much what he wanted.

“Get some rest,” he said. “You didn’t sleep much last night. You grab a few hours of sleep, and I’ll make arrangements.”

She nodded. But, again, didn’t move. “Are we going to hide somewhere else?”

“Not like I’m planning to just turn you over to the bad guys.”

Her head tilted forward. The dark curtain of her hair hid her face, and then, she rose. Came right to him. Her hand lifted and pressed to his chest. Right over the heart that raced for her. “I think that is exactly what you should do.”

What the fuck?Tyler could only shake his head. He must have heard wrong. Was the concussion impacting his hearing now?

“Running and hiding didn’t work so well for us the first time. Did we even make it forty-eight hours? Seventy-two?” Her lips pulled down. “Our safe house exploded. We almost exploded with it. Now you’ve turned away from anold friend because you suspect him. In a short time, I’ve pretty much destroyed your life.”

No, she hadn’t. “I’m not just going to give you up.” He would never do that.

“Not even if it winds up saving your life? Because Kane said a target is on you now. How much is the going rate for a U.S. Marshal’s life? Or rather, his death?”

He didn’t know.

“Trade me,” Esme urged him, and she appeared completely serious. “Save yourself. It’s the smart thing to do.” Then she walked away. The woman actually dropped that bombshell BS on him and headed toward the bathroom like it was absolutely nothing. She paused by the open bags. Trailed her fingers over them. Grabbed a change of clothes.

Kept moving. Like nothing had happened.

Totally no big deal. Just a little matter of her dying so he could live.

The hell that would happen.

The bathroom door closed behind her. The shower thundered on. His gaze remained locked on the door.

Had those been tears gathering in her eyes before she marched away? Jaw locking, he headed right for the door. His fingers curled around the knob and twisted. Nothing happened.

She’d locked the door.

“Esme.”

“I’m showering.”

“Open the door.”

“I’m showering.”

His gaze bored into the wood. “I’ve finally figured you out,” he muttered. Then, louder, for her, he said, “I’m going to kick the door in if you don’t open it. So…make sure you step back, would you, sweetheart?”

“You would not dare!”

A breath and a prayer seemed to be holding the old door in place. Probably wouldn’t even take a kick. “Move back,” he commanded. He waited. Gave her time, then he rammed his shoulder into the door.

It flew open. He’d been right. No kicking needed.

And, sonofabitch, thoseweretears on her cheeks.

“You have an issue with bathrooms and barging in on people.” A shudder swept over her. “You need to work on that. It’s weird.”

His hands fisted. No way was she going to distract him. “You ran away so I wouldn’t see you cry.”

Her right hand swiped over her cheek. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

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