“Not everyone is prudent or kind.”
He drove away, and Gabe shifted in her seat as though she’d need to duck out of sight any second. “By the way, I’m twenty-four,” she whispered to him. Her calm expression and stable demeanor, despite being chased by demons, told him she spoke the truth.
Eventually, she crouched down low and rested her head on the armrest of the door. Henry kept his hands on the steering wheel. What he really wanted to do was to brush her hair back to see more of her face. Her features intrigued him. A perfect little nose, high cheekbones, and the most kissable lips. He refocused his attention on the road. She needs your help, bloody idiot. She needed him hitting on her like she needed another punch in the ribs. He’d take her home and keep her protected until he could get her up to Ripon. She’d be safer there, away from her abuser and Henry’s traitorous thoughts.
A few blocks later, she lifted her head a few centimeters and peered over the dashboard.
“Are you hiding from the police or someone else?” he asked.
“I just need a place to crash for a night.” Her voice harbored hesitation. She didn’t trust him yet, but she would.
“I understand. I won’t give your location away to anyone.”
The contorted way she tilted her neck to remain hidden appeared painful.
“If you truly want to hide, get down on the floor. Or lean on me, I’ll try to cover up that hair of yours.” Henry opened his arm.
After a slight hesitation and a glance at the floor of his car, she slid closer to him. He brushed her hair back from her face, covering as much of the exposed pink strands with his hand as he could. A jolt of electricity went through him the moment he touched her hair. Her sea-siren eyes widened and met his. Her muscles tensed, and then she relaxed into his arms. They both looked away at the same time.
Probably the incoming rain.
…
Alex’s constant feeling of detachment and isolation lifted off her shoulders when Henry wrapped his arm around her. Hidden under his conservative button-down shirt and navy wool sweater was a strength she hadn’t expected.
She didn’t need a man’s protection, but for one small moment it was nice to feel like she wasn’t alone. Most of the men in her life failed miserably in their protector roles. She needed to be her own superhero to survive. If she ever allowed another man into her life, he’d have to be the sidekick.
Arriving back at his house, Henry led Alex inside from the garage. His gait favored his right side. She hadn’t noticed it at the dinner party.
“You’re limping.”
He continued to walk into the kitchen. “I stepped on some glass last night. My fault. I should have been wearing slippers.”
No. My fault.
She’d thrown the statue. Smashed it on the wall. And now he was injured. She paused. Could he be lying about helping her? Her track record for placing her faith in the wrong people was fairly perfect, although Matt had helped her for nothing more than a few swept floors. She’d been very lucky he’d assisted her when she first arrived in England. She’d have to send him word that she’d found a temporary place to stay. The memory of the arguing and the gunshot made her uneasy. Was he okay? Pascal could be cruel without a splinter of remorse for anyone or anything.
Henry turned around and reached his hand out to lure her in. Or maybe he was just being nice. “I recommend you stay inside for your own safety. You’ll have your own room here with a lock on the door until we leave for Ripon tomorrow. I won’t have to return to Oxford until after spring recess.”
His kitchen had a large island in the middle with an assortment of copper-bottom and stainless pots and pans hanging from hooks in the ceiling. A huge gas range with an ornate copper hood embossed with a grapevine pattern stood majestically as the focal point of the room.
“Do you remember Simon, my assistant, from last night? Simon, this is Gabe.”
Simon took a sip from a large coffee mug and looked at her. She didn’t remember ever seeing him before, and he was definitely the kind of man a person didn’t forget. Where Henry could turn from adorable to intimidating in a heartbeat, Simon, a beefy pinup with a hard-edged face, seemed stuck in intimidation mode even while wearing a killer smile and a blue apron that read “Chefs do it in the kitchen. I’ll do it anywhere.”
Simon said hello and then turned away to drop bread in the toaster, fry eggs, and, if her nose was accurate, make cinnamon rolls. Hard to be intimidated by a guy who made baked goods. Even a guy the size of Pascal. The memory of him arriving at the pub fizzled some of her optimism until Simon walked to the table. When he poured her a cup of coffee and handed it to her, she thanked God she’d jumped into Henry’s car. Black coffee fueled her in ways water, juice, or wine never would.
She rested the mug against her chin so she could take in the aroma before her first sip. “Sorry about ruining your evening.”
Simon smiled again as though he found the entire incident amusing. “Henry never invited such spirited ladies into his bed in the past. A nice change for him.”
“You’re overstepping your position.” Henry raised his eyebrows toward Simon, but he couldn’t suppress his own smile.
“Sorry, sir.” Simon winked at Alex and then headed toward the refrigerator.
“Ignore him, Gabe. He doesn’t appreciate all I do for him.” Henry escorted her past the island to a breakfast nook with a small table covered by a blue-and-white-checkered tablecloth. She looked out the window to the backyard. The view of the small garden she’d seen from the study was even nicer in the daylight.