Page 13 of Marrying a Spy

He dipped down to catch her gaze. He wanted her to know that everything was going to be okay. She only needed to go along with this until James showed up. Then she was done, and she would be left to live her life, alone and safe. Which, to him, was the most important thing.

“It’ll be okay. Nothing will happen to you.” His chest swelled with the urge to protect her, and his voice came out deeper than he intended.

She seemed to notice the change, her eyes widening as she studied him. Then she sighed, but her shoulders were as rigid as they had been moments ago. “I know. I just…haven’t seen my dad since the funeral. I told him to leave and never come back. I’m just worried that he won’t believe that I want him here.” She reached up and started to twirl her hair around her finger. “Do you think he’ll come?”

The urge to comfort her won out, and Noah rested his hand on her arm. Her gaze dropped to his hand, and he fought the urge to remove it. “He’d be a fool not to.” Noah really believed that. Sophia was a great girl, and her dad was an idiot to choose a life of crime over his daughter.

He saw her cheeks flush as she nodded. “Thanks.” She yawned. “I should get to bed. We have a long day tomorrow.”

Noah dropped his hand and smiled. “Yeah.”

She gave him one more look before she turned and headed to her room.

Not wanting that to be his last word to her, he called after her.

Sophia glanced back. “Yeah?”

He clenched his jaw as he fought the emotions that were bubbling to the surface. “Thanks for doing this. I know it can’t be easy, but you’re really doing a good thing here.”

She nodded. “You’re welcome.” Then she turned and disappeared into her room.

Now alone, Noah scrubbed his face as he made his way into the living room, exhaustion taking over. He needed a good night sleep. But if history was any indicator, that wasn’t going to happen.

* * *

Heat surrounded him. Screams filled his ringing ears. If only he could get out, he could save her. He moved to free his arm but it was trapped. Flames licked around him, inching closer and closer to his body. He had to save her.

“Hey. Hey!”

Someone was shaking his shoulder.

Startled, Noah reached out and grabbed their wrist, pulling them toward him.

“Whoa, Noah!”

Through his clouded mind, he recognized Sophia’s voice.

Sophia.

There were no fires. No crash. He was in Sophia’s living room. He was safe.

Whipping his eyes open, he saw that he was clutching her to his chest. His bare chest. And she was in nothing but a silk nightgown.

As if he’d been burned, he released his grip on her, and she jumped back. He tried not to watch as she straightened her gown. So many conflicting feelings were racing through him, and he was an idiot to entertain them any of them.

“Why are you waking me up in the middle of the night?” he asked, squinting toward the microwave clock in the kitchen. Two in the morning. When he turned back, he saw that her gaze had dropped to his chest.

Suddenly, he became very aware of the fact that he didn’t have a shirt on, and he didn’t need to ask to know what she was staring at. His scars.

Reaching behind him, he grabbed his shirt and slipped it on.

“I heard you yelling,” she whispered.

He winced. He should have warned her. As much as he wanted to tell himself that he’d put his nightmares behind him, he knew that wasn’t true. Every time he closed his eyes, he relived the past he was trying so hard to run away from—to forget.

“Sorry. Hazard of the trade I guess.”

He could feel her gaze on him. She was probably trying to figure out what he meant. But he wasn’t going to delve into it. It would just breathe life into memories that broke him every time he thought about them.