If Androv’s men got within a two-mile radius, Chase would know about it. Which meant she could talk all she wanted, even if it did drive him insane.
“I’m sorry,” she said softly.
Ah, Christ. “It’s fine,” he said, guilt pricking him. “Just keep it down a bit.”
She nodded and went back to eating. But her eyes remained downcast and the fiery attitude she’d had a moment ago banked. It shouldn’t bother him, but it did.
It wasn’t that he’d wanted her to be quiet so much as he’d been stunned at his reaction when she’d stuck her tongue out to lick the spoon. The sight of her pink tongue, the way it stretched toward the sauce, the dainty swipe she’d taken—and then the way she’d attacked the food once she determined it was good—that combination had been lethal to him, assaulting him on a primal level that made his dick start to tingle in reaction. Not good.
He wasn’t supposed to get a hard-on over Sophie. He just wasn’t.
Chase finished his MRE and cleared the trash. When Sophie finished with hers, he collected her trash as well. He suddenly wanted to say something, wanted to take them back to those moments when she’d been asking him what he liked to read. He wanted to go back and not be a jerk this time, but that was impossible.
“I like thrillers,” he said, and she looked confused. “Novels. James Patterson, Stephen Hunter, Lee Child, Clancy—stuff like that.”
“Oh. That’s cool.”
He shrugged. “Yeah, I guess so.”
She cleared her throat and their eyes met for a long moment before she dropped her gaze. “You play guitar too.”
His gut twisted with familiar anger. “Yeah. I fiddle with it here and there.” He snorted softly. “Guess it’s in the DNA, though a lot of good that does me.”
“But you enjoy playing or you wouldn’t do it.”
His eyes burned, probably from lack of sleep. “I hate it and I love it.”
Hell, he didn’t know why he’d admitted that to her. Even worse was the look of sympathy she gave him. Give him enough time alone with Sophie and he’d be curled in a ball, telling her about all his childhood hurts while she stroked his hair and crooned lullabies. That image was enough to make him want to puke.
His phone pinged and he reached for it, happy for the distraction.
I’LL BE THERE.
CHASE TEXTED a quick response and then started to gather up supplies and stuff them in his bag. Just in case it took longer than anticipated or if he had to change the plan.
He could feel Sophie’s gaze on him, but he didn’t make eye contact. He’d hurt her feelings and then he’d tried to make it up to her by not being a dick. Instead, he’d revealed too much of his soul—and she pitied him for it.
“We’re heading out in another hour. Better get prepared.”
“I don’t have anything to prepare,” she said softly. “Unless you want me to carry something.”
“Nope, no need. We’ll be out of the forest tonight and into a safe house.”
He could see her sit up taller out of the corner of his eye. “We will? Where are we going?”
He finally let himself look at her again. And he felt a little thump in his chest as he did so. She’d twisted her red-blond hair into a knot on her head, but the knot was coming loose and hair escaped to fall around her face.
He’d tried not to pay too much attention to her clothing before, but he let his gaze skim the dark jeans and boots she wore, the white tank top displaying luscious breasts beneath a black jacket. And all the gorgeous hair that was slipping free of its knot.
She had full, generous lips, and the hint of cheekbones beneath plump skin. Her violet eyes were fringed in dark lashes. Her eyeliner had smudged, but it gave her a just-got-out-of-bed look rather than a gothic appearance. Some women looked like zombies the next morning when their mascara had run, but not Sophie. A whole day of sleeping in her makeup and she looked sexy, not scary.
“I’ve got a friend,” he said. “He’s going to help us.”
Her breath hitched. “Are you sure you can trust him?”
He wasn’t offended by that question. “He’s a teammate. Or used to be. He started his own security firm recently. They protect high-profile clients—movie stars, rock stars, billionaires. I trust him with my life because he’s saved my ass more than once with his skills.”
She nodded. “Then I guess I’ll trust him too.”
THE WOODS WERE dark and wet. Apparently it had rained today while she’d been asleep in the tree house. She hadn’t heard a thing. Now she squelched along behind Chase, her suede Christian Louboutin boots no doubt ruined beyond all repair. Her feet were wet, and she shivered inside her light jacket, wishing she’d been wearing something a little heavier when she left New York.