His smile was pure victory when he patted his pocket. “Bingo.”
He closed his hand over her elbow and turned her back toward the front of the club. Heat tingled across her skin. She liked his hands. Liked them against her. Liked the way they made her feel.
People glanced their way. She knew they made an unlikely pair. Her, bruised and frail, and him, buff and muscular. As they moved into the lobby, she found herself wondering if he was married, if he had a girlfriend, or even what kind of woman he was interested in.
Probably one like that brunette over there in the tiny spandex shorts and skimpy sports bra. One with a small waist, huge rack, and voluptuous hips. Not a skinny, small-breasted schoolteacher from Idaho.
She was suddenly aware of the way the clothes he’d brought her at the hospital hung off her frame. She’d always been thin, but she’d lost quite a bit of weight this last week—more than she’d thought. And glancing over the hard bodies around her, she was also achingly aware of the sallowness to her skin, her dirty hair beneath the ball cap, and the fact she wasn’t wearing a stitch of makeup.
No, she definitely wasn’t his type, and she was smart enough to know that what she was feeling for him was hero worship. He’d saved her life. On a normal day, he wasn’t the kind of guy she’d even look twice at. She didn’t even like muscles.
They exited the club and stepped onto Western Avenue. Damp, fresh air from the earlier rain filled her lungs. She looked up the hill to where the car was parked two blocks away.
“Are you okay?” Landon asked at her side.
“What? Yeah.” She wasn’t going to lean on him. She’d already done that too many times to count, and she was determined to be her old self. She started walking. Halfway up the hill, her lungs grew thick and her breath labored. They passed a storefront window, and from the corner of her eye she caught their reflection, but she forced herself not to look closely. She couldn’t, because she knew she wouldn’t recognize the face staring back at her. Right now she needed to focus. Needed to think about Eve. Needed to do anything to keep her mind away from the past.
“We can stop if you’re tired.”
“No,” she huffed, pressing her hands against her knees as she leaned forward and forced her feet to keep moving up the hill. “I’m . . . fine.”
“Son of a bitch.”
Strong arms wrapped around Olivia from behind, and she gasped as her feet left the ground and she found herself cradled against Landon’s muscular chest. She pressed a hand against his bulging pec and then regretted it. It was big. Strong. Safe. “P-put me down.”
“Why? So you can fucking collapse on me?”
Moments in the back of that van rushed through her mind, and she slammed her eyes shut, shaking her head back and forth, digging her fingernails into his muscles. “Don’t swear. Don’t . . . I can’t . . .”
“Okay. Okay, just breathe. I’m sorry. I’ll be more careful. That’s it. In and out. You’re okay.”
The city seemed to swirl around Olivia, but slowly she realized her feet were on the ground, she was leaning into Landon’s muscular body, and his arms were wrapped tight around her, his hand running up and down her spine in a languid motion, his voice right at her ear, reassuring her with his words and warm breath.
She opened her eyes and blinked several times. He’d stopped in the middle of the sidewalk and was now leaning back against the wall of a building while she tried to work her way down from a panic attack she couldn’t remember starting. People passed on the busy street. Several glanced their way, but no one stopped. She focused on the push and draw of air in her lungs and the soft brush of his fingers against her spine. Told herself she was safe, that she wasn’t in that van, that she wasn’t going back there. Ever.
“That’s better,” Landon said softly in her ear. “That’s—”
Something in his pocket vibrated. He let go of her and pulled out a phone.
“Damn.” He cringed. “Sorry. I need to take this.”
Olivia nodded and tried to back out of his arms, but he held her tight, not letting her move, and part of her was grateful. She sank back into him while he lifted the phone to his ear and said, “Miller.”
Her cheek pressed against his chest. Warmth seeped from him into her, and the strong, steady beat of his heart calmed her in a way nothing else could.
“Yeah.” His voice echoed through his chest and into her, sending vibrations all through her body. “I know where that is. No, I’ve got her. No, I don’t think that’s a good idea right now. I’ll have her call from the car when we’re on our way.”
They—whoever he was talking to—were discussing her. The independent thirty-year-old inside told her to suck it up and stop leaning on him, but her body wasn’t listening. And though she knew this was hero worship at its finest, she didn’t care. He smelled too wonderful, felt too good, and for a moment, she needed the comfort.
“Okay. Will do.” He tugged the phone from his ear and slipped it back in his pocket, and then his other arm came around her, holding her close all over again. And she couldn’t fight the sigh that slipped from her lips, or the way she snuggled in tighter and just let him hold her.
“Wh-who was that?” she asked against him, not making any move to pull away.
“My boss,” he answered, not giving her a chance. “Your sister’s at a safe house north of here. If you want to see her, I can take you to her.”
Olivia lifted her head and looked up into his eyes. They weren’t just brown like she’d originally thought. They were a warm, rich chocolate with flecks of gold and green, all swirled together in a mix that made her wonder which was the true him. The way he’d taken her captors out in that yard flashed in her mind, contrasting so strongly with the way he was holding her now, like she was made of glass, like she was the most fragile thing in the world. Part of her could barely believe he was the same person.
But he was. The jagged scar across the side of his face and the other near his chin proved he was more than just her comfort. He was a force not to be crossed. And soon she’d be home, and he would be out of her life for good.
She swallowed hard, not wanting to think about that too much just yet. The thought of going home—to that small house where she’d been grabbed in the first place—left a hole the size of the Grand Canyon right in the middle of her belly. “You’ll take me to Eve?”
“Yes. On one condition. You eat something. Those fluids at the hospital weren’t enough. You need energy.”
Her stomach rolled at the thought of food, but she nodded. She did need to eat. She needed to get stronger. Needed to get better. Needed to forget everything that had happened, so she could stop leaning on him once and for all. “Okay.”
“Okay.” He released her, then swept her into his arms all over again.
This time she didn’t try to wiggle free. “I can walk, you know.”
“I know. But I like this better. Humor me.”
She liked it better too. And if she was going to be with him for only a few more hours, she was going to enjoy every last second.
She settled into him and sighed.
21
Eve stood at the counter in the massive kitchen, chopping vegetables for the stir-fry Zane was making. Someone had recently stocked the refrigerator as if they knew the house were about to be used, which seemed so strange to Eve—having people who rushed around preparing things for your arrival. She’d gotten so used to doing things on her own over the years, she couldn’t comprehend relying on others like that.
Soft lips pressed against the nape of her neck, and the knife stilled in her hand as she felt Zane move in at her back. He threaded one arm around her waist and up under the shirt she’d grabbed from the master closet. Something else she couldn’t comprehend. He’d said this house belonged to a client, but when he’d told her to find something clean to wear in the closet, she’d been startled to discover a variety of women’s clothing, in all different sizes.