sweetheart. So sorry.”
His hand smoothed over her hair, stroking her. He let her cry herself out. He murmured stuff to her all the while. How sorry he was. How brave she was. How he didn’t mind she’d trashed the place. He even hummed to her. Some folky-sounding song she didn’t know.
“I hate you,” she said eventually, because it needed saying. And she did hate him, with all her heart.
“I know.” Funny, he didn’t sound the least upset about it.
“I really do.”
“Yes,” said the patronizing, abandoning son of a bitch.
“Never hated anyone as much as I hate you.” Roslyn pulled up his shirt and wiped her face clean on it. As clean as it could get without the benefit of soap and water. Nick made a noise of resignation or something and pulled the black T-shirt off over his head. He held it up to her face, covering her nose.
“Blow.”
She did. Noisily. “My head hurts.”
“I bet it does.”
“It wasn’t fair, leaving me here like this. What was it, some kind of emotional manipulation?”
“No.” Lots of lines creased up his forehead. “Course not. I just needed to grab a few things in town.”
“What if you hadn’t come back?”
“I was always coming back,” he said in no uncertain terms. His overconfident tone of voice peeved her no end.
“You might not have.”
“Roslyn, trust me. I was always coming back. I will always come home.”
“This isn’t home.” She sniffed again, so he selected a new piece of shirt and held it to her face. “No, I’m okay.”
He sighed and set the shirt aside. She sat on his lap, snuggling against his bare skin. The man felt like a heater.
“Don’t do it again.” Her ear pressed against his chest where his heart thudded away. Very evenly. Strong. Maybe he wouldn’t be dying anytime soon. Still, she couldn’t risk it. Right now, her life depended on his.
“Ros …”
“I mean it.”
“I know you do,” he said. “But I don’t want to make you any promises I can’t keep.”
“Bullshit.” She sat up, looking into his face. He was awfully close, his hand firm against her back. “You break your word to me all the time. You’re always pushing for more. Trying to manipulate me …”
His mouth opened and widened in a pained expression. “But …”
“No. You owe me,” she insisted, pressing the point. This couldn’t happen again. It wouldn’t.
His dark brows drew close.
“You do.”
“I know,” he said. He licked his lips, looked away. But his eyes darted back to her, assessing. “I hate seeing you upset.”
“You left me chained to a bed thinking I was going to die here if I didn’t cut off my foot. It happens, Nick.”
The idiot lowered his face and set his forehead against hers. “So you’ve forgiven me for the kiss?”
She pulled back. “You see why I hate you? This is why.”
“I’m not convinced you do. Deep down.”
“Oh, I’m pretty damn sure I do.”
“No. I think you just think you do. “ He sighed and stared at her. “But deep down, I think you’re afraid.”
“Yes. I am afraid. Afraid you’re going to die and leave me chained up to starve to death.”
He rolled his eyes. “Ros, we’re talking about feelings.”
“Fear is a feeling.”
“Other feelings.”
“Like my headache because I’ve been crying for hours because you left me chained up and I thought I was going to die horribly?”
Nick’s brows danced high. “Alright. Alright. I give in.”
He gently began to remove her from his lap and place her back on the floor. Something horrible tore through her, scarily akin to panic. Her hands clutched at him in a white-knuckled grip. No fucking way could she let go.
“Where are you going?” she asked.
“Hey, easy.” He covered her cold hands with his own, warm and strong. “I was just going to find you some aspirin. Somewhere in this mess. I’ll be right back.”
“Because you won’t leave me alone again.”
“Roslyn …”
“Promise.” She demanded. Pleaded.
His hand smoothed over her hair, stroking her. He let her cry herself out. He murmured stuff to her all the while. How sorry he was. How brave she was. How he didn’t mind she’d trashed the place. He even hummed to her. Some folky-sounding song she didn’t know.
“I hate you,” she said eventually, because it needed saying. And she did hate him, with all her heart.
“I know.” Funny, he didn’t sound the least upset about it.
“I really do.”
“Yes,” said the patronizing, abandoning son of a bitch.
“Never hated anyone as much as I hate you.” Roslyn pulled up his shirt and wiped her face clean on it. As clean as it could get without the benefit of soap and water. Nick made a noise of resignation or something and pulled the black T-shirt off over his head. He held it up to her face, covering her nose.
“Blow.”
She did. Noisily. “My head hurts.”
“I bet it does.”
“It wasn’t fair, leaving me here like this. What was it, some kind of emotional manipulation?”
“No.” Lots of lines creased up his forehead. “Course not. I just needed to grab a few things in town.”
“What if you hadn’t come back?”
“I was always coming back,” he said in no uncertain terms. His overconfident tone of voice peeved her no end.
“You might not have.”
“Roslyn, trust me. I was always coming back. I will always come home.”
“This isn’t home.” She sniffed again, so he selected a new piece of shirt and held it to her face. “No, I’m okay.”
He sighed and set the shirt aside. She sat on his lap, snuggling against his bare skin. The man felt like a heater.
“Don’t do it again.” Her ear pressed against his chest where his heart thudded away. Very evenly. Strong. Maybe he wouldn’t be dying anytime soon. Still, she couldn’t risk it. Right now, her life depended on his.
“Ros …”
“I mean it.”
“I know you do,” he said. “But I don’t want to make you any promises I can’t keep.”
“Bullshit.” She sat up, looking into his face. He was awfully close, his hand firm against her back. “You break your word to me all the time. You’re always pushing for more. Trying to manipulate me …”
His mouth opened and widened in a pained expression. “But …”
“No. You owe me,” she insisted, pressing the point. This couldn’t happen again. It wouldn’t.
His dark brows drew close.
“You do.”
“I know,” he said. He licked his lips, looked away. But his eyes darted back to her, assessing. “I hate seeing you upset.”
“You left me chained to a bed thinking I was going to die here if I didn’t cut off my foot. It happens, Nick.”
The idiot lowered his face and set his forehead against hers. “So you’ve forgiven me for the kiss?”
She pulled back. “You see why I hate you? This is why.”
“I’m not convinced you do. Deep down.”
“Oh, I’m pretty damn sure I do.”
“No. I think you just think you do. “ He sighed and stared at her. “But deep down, I think you’re afraid.”
“Yes. I am afraid. Afraid you’re going to die and leave me chained up to starve to death.”
He rolled his eyes. “Ros, we’re talking about feelings.”
“Fear is a feeling.”
“Other feelings.”
“Like my headache because I’ve been crying for hours because you left me chained up and I thought I was going to die horribly?”
Nick’s brows danced high. “Alright. Alright. I give in.”
He gently began to remove her from his lap and place her back on the floor. Something horrible tore through her, scarily akin to panic. Her hands clutched at him in a white-knuckled grip. No fucking way could she let go.
“Where are you going?” she asked.
“Hey, easy.” He covered her cold hands with his own, warm and strong. “I was just going to find you some aspirin. Somewhere in this mess. I’ll be right back.”
“Because you won’t leave me alone again.”
“Roslyn …”
“Promise.” She demanded. Pleaded.
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