“Nothing.” She was back to mumbling, her sense of fun fading along with her confidence.
She felt vulnerable and exposed walking beside him. Alone she could stay in the shadows, close to the building if there were no openings, slipping back toward the street if she couldn’t see directly into the alleyways and doorways. Ridley walked straight down the center of the sidewalk, head up, shoulders straight, and he looked like a man no one ever messed with. She was certain most men would take one look at him and scurry away.
Rafe Cordeau was not that kind of man. He would walk right up to Ridley, staring him straight in the eye, and without a single word slit his throat. Or his belly. Her fault. She glanced at their linked hands. Rafe would kill him. There would be no discussion and no way to stop him.
Her heart began to pound and she tasted fear in her mouth. “I don’t know you well enough to hold your hand and it makes me uncomfortable.”
It wasn’t a lie, although she’d enjoyed the moment with him, the moment of fun she’d always remember. Still, she was uncomfortable holding hands because she liked it – maybe a little too much. But she wasn’t a woman who could ever walk openly down a street with a man and feel comfortable. And she wasn’t na?ve enough not to realize Ridley Cromer was way out of her league, even if she didn’t have hell following her around.
Ridley’s piercing gaze searched her face and then their surroundings. His eyes moved in a search pattern around them, the alleys, the streets, the alcoves and doorways. Only then did he look up toward the rooftops and fire escapes as she’d done.
“You’re afraid, Kitten, but not of me. Whatever it is you’re afraid of, know that when you’re with me, you’re perfectly safe.”
Supreme confidence. Ridley was a man who had been in dangerous situations, she could tell that. In some circumstances he was probably a very scary man, but no one was in Rafe’s class. No one. She couldn’t explain him to anyone, they’d think she was insane. They’d lock her up and make it easy for Rafe to come get her.
What had she been thinking? She’d let walking with a very attractive man override her good sense. Fun wasn’t worth getting someone killed.
She sent Ridley a quick look from under her lashes. It was there again. The expression that told her she’d made a terrible mistake revealing this side of her. She’d suppressed it for so long, it just came out, as unexpected to her as it was to him.
“I’m used to being alone, that’s all. I’m careful. I don’t want you to think I was flirting with you, I wasn’t.” And she hadn’t been. She didn’t even know how to flirt. She didn’t look at men. She’d made an art out of finding everywhere to look but at any man in the room with her. She’d trained herself from the time she was eleven years old.
“You don’t have to try to flirt, Kitten.” Ridley’s voice was soft, gentle even.
For some reason the way he spoke made her insides melt a little. Her body reacted to just the sound of his voice. She bit her bottom lip hard to try to counteract the effect.
“You smile at a man, or look at him with your gorgeous eyes, and he’s a goner. That’s just the reality of it.”
She refused to wrap herself up in his compliment. She’d never had compliments before. Not ever. Not personal. About her coffee maybe, but not like this. She couldn’t remember anyone being so fun. She’d had her first kindness from Malcom. Now she had her first best time with a man. She couldn’t keep him, but she could have the memories, and when she was alone, then she’d wrap herself up in his compliments and savor them.
The warehouses loomed on the next block. They turned the corner and crossed the street, angling toward the center one. It looked old from the outside. Old and tired. A single light illuminated a heavy door. There were three cargo doors, all padlocked. Ridley scowled at them.
“You didn’t tell me about the time you were followed. I’m still waiting to hear that story.”
She snuck a peek at his face from under her lashes. He was like a dog with a bone. She hadn’t distracted him at all. She sighed. Loudly. “Seriously, Ridley, it isn’t important.”
“That’s bullshit, Cat, and you know it. You’re scared of something. It’s not all that hard to tell. You walk everywhere, which means you don’t want to drive your car…”
“It doesn’t mean that,” she hissed. She stabbed at the number pad a little viciously, punching in the code to unlock the door. “Gas costs money.”