Page 43 of Never Say Yes To A Stranger

She doesn’t get away from the window. I know there’s no danger out there, but I still want to get between her and whatever might be out there. I do. Professionally. Because I’m a professional with zero feelings of any sort.

“It takes time to build an airtight case against someone, and we won’t move until we are certain you are one hundred percent off the hook,” I add.

“Then why are you standing there like he’s waiting outside with a sniper rifle?” she questions.

“I’m—I don’t know what you mean.”

She gives me theyeah, I two hundred percent believe youface. Then, the maddening woman sweeps the curtains aside and opens the window. Leaning forward, she punches the screen outward. It clatters onto the roof, and all I can do is stand there, frozen in bewilderment.

Oh, fuck no. She’s not…

Yes, she is. She’s doing it. She’s bending down and going through the window.

She rushes fast in the granny nightgown that is far too long and trip-worthy. Then, after she’s made enough room on the roof that is astraight drop to the bottom, and a good fifteen-footer at that,she turns her face to look at me, sweeps her hair to the side, and grins at me like a total badass.

“Get out here, Beau. It’s a lovely night, nice and warm. Look.” She points to the moon in the sky. It’s half full, and even I have to admit that, out here, surrounded by stars a person can actuallysee, it’s beautiful.

No, not just beautiful.

It’s breathtaking.

Both the moon and the woman bathed in silver light on her damn roof.

“Turn off the lights before you come out. The stars are so much better that way.”

I stick myself halfway out the window and plant my hands on the peeling shingles. “Are you kidding me? You’ve done this before?”

She wriggles her bare toes from beneath the hem of the nightgown. “Obviously. Who wouldn’t take advantage of this view? Also? It’s not like there’s a whole lot going on out here. I kind of have to take my amusement and entertainment wherever I can find it.” She turns her face to the moon, then slowly looks back at me. Her eyes are shining, dancing in the moonlight, and lovely. She’s ethereal, and my whole being freezes. She might not be asking me to jump off a bridge, just potentially fall off a roof, and the answer is yes.

I’ve already made so many bad decisions where Ignacia is concerned. I should pull her back in, fit the screen back into place, slam the window, pull the curtains, and insist she go back to bed.

Instead, I’m going to shut off the light, calculate how many hours it will be until sunrise—two hours and probably forty minutes—and then jam my huge body through a window that is far smaller than it looks.

“Careful.” Ignacia’s hand suddenly hovers over my head. Now, she’s the one who sounds protective. Her knuckles hit the top sill of the window, which would have taken off a good layer of skin if she hadn’t been there to urge me to duck down just a little further. “There.” Her fingers brush my bare arm, and my muscles coil and heave on instinct.

Is there any part of me that doesn’t want to be inside this woman?

What the fuck? Jesus.

The unfamiliar heat of a blush steals up my neck, and my stomach twists. I force myself to look at the moon, but the thing has nothing on the woman beside me. She rearranges herself, wraps her arms around her bent knees, and plants her feet hard on the shingles. They’re quite sticky. Sticky enough that they’ll keep us from careening down the incline and over the edge. Thank god.

I park my ass on the shingles as my stomach wavers. I’m usually not afraid of heights, but this seems like a straight ticket to a face-first landslide, eating grass, and getting all my teeth knocked out kind of trip to the dentist. I might have the money, but going to see a dentist isn’t my favorite thing in the world.

She looks right at me, doing that burn-a-hole-straight-through-my-head thing. I’m not focused on the moon or the stars anymore because they have nothing on her. I know I’m in trouble when I can’t tear my attention away, even when I want to.

“I know you’re not a narcissist or a chauvinist. And you’re not toxic. You don’t want to hurt anyone else,” she murmurs.

That can’t be out of left field. She’s picking up our conversation from two days ago. She’s continually looking for signs that I’m a good person or that I’m worth doing the one thing no one else should ever have to do for someone.

“I think you want to save people. It’s noble, but it can also be incredibly stupid,” I say in reply.

She doesn’t wince, even though that’s not my finest moment. I probably deserve a good swat upside the head. I’d suggest it myself if it wouldn’t throw her off balance up here on the damn roof. If I really wanted to keep her safe, I never should have come out here. I don’t know what I’m doing. I don’t have a plan, and I’m not in control right now. This is more epically stupid than if I took a running leap off the roof, thinking I could sprout wings. The result is probably going to be the same.

“Let’s go inside.” One of us has to be rational, even if it’s not fun.

“No,” she says, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. The wind is blowing gently, but it might as well be enough to send a ship off. We’re on the damnroof. “I know I’m too tenderhearted. I can’t stand seeing people in pain. I always want to help. I don’t want to lose that and become hard and unmoved, but I knowhow it’s sometimes not a good thing. Look at Aiden. I knew there was something missing. I knew there was something wrong, but I didn’t listen to my gut. My blind care just enabled him to do what he did. But you? It’s different.”

“It’s not different,” I say firmly.

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