Page 6 of Her Outlaw Biker
“You came to my door dragging trouble behind you,” I say. “Don’t get picky about the hands that stopped you from bleeding out.”
She huffs and tries to sit up straighter, wincing at the movement. “You could work on your bedside manner, Ghost.”
The fact that she knows my name doesn’t surprise me. It confirms what I already knew.
She was sent.
“You got about five seconds to tell me who you are and why the hell you’re here.”
She meets my eyes—hers are green and defiant even through the haze of pain. “My name is Clover.”
“Cute. Now the truth.”
“That is the truth.” She shrugs with effort. “Just Clover. Like Madonna. Or Cher. Only dustier.”
Smart-ass. She’s got a sense to humor too.
“Try again, sweetheart.”
She clams up, eyes narrowing.
Stubborn little thing. She’s terrified. I can see it in the way her fingers dig into the edge of the couch, but she’s not breaking. Not yet.
I lean forward, resting my hands on my knees, letting my shadow fall over her. “You can keep pretending you’re a damselin distress who just happened upon a desolate trailer in the middle of nowhere, or you can tell me exactly why you’re here.”
She doesn’t flinch, but I see a muscle twitch in her throat. She’s nervous.
Great. Fear is good. Sheshouldbe afraid of me.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she insists.
A thunderclap outside the trailer has her jumping slightly. The air between us crackles.
I mutter a curse, running a hand through my hair in frustration. Damn these sudden storms that come without warning. Just like this gorgeous feisty blonde staring at me with those wide green eyes…
So much for lying low. Trouble always seems to find me.
I glance at her again. She’s shaking, maybe from fear or exhaustion, or the climbing chill in the trailer. Or maybe a combination of all three. She holds my gaze boldly, glaring at me like an obstinate little bird.
I shouldn’t care—I can’t afford soft spots. But for a reason beyond me, I walk over to the small closet in the corner and grab an old shirt and a blanket. I walk back over to her and drop to my knees beside her, placing the shirt on the couch.
“You look like you’re about to freeze to death,” I say, carefully arranging the blanket around her. Her eyes soften for a millisecond, and I find myself drowning in those magnificent green depths.
I quickly straighten to my full height, clearing my throat.
“Wear that if you need to change out of…those,” I say, gesturing at her torn shirt and dusty pants. “I’ll go check the perimeter. I’ll be right back.”
Chapter Three
Clover
The moment the door clicks shut behind him, I let out a long breath. Silence folds in around me like a second skin, heavy, stifling, broken only by the soft creak of the old trailer walls and the storm grumbling in the distance.
Ghost is gone. Not far, maybe just a perimeter check like he said, but I’m still alone.
Alone in the lion’s den.
I pull the blanket tighter around me, trying not to focus on the deep ache in my bones. I glance at the door again, half expecting him to burst inside with that hard expression and those cold, assessing eyes. But it stays shut.
