Just One Touch (Slow Burn #5)(22)

"Whoever is after her means business and they aren't going to give up. They shot me and they shot Shadow. If it weren't for Jenna, I would have bled out and died within minutes."

Something dark and feral flashed in Eliza's eyes.

"Don't even think about it, Lizzie," Isaac warned. "You're still on leave whether you like it or not and you're not fully healed from your own brush with death. If I think, even for a minute, that you're plotting anything, I won't hesitate to rat you out not only to Sterling but to Dane as well."

Annoyance shone in her expression. Scowling at him, she walked back to the island and prepared two plates, gathered utensils for him and Jenna, and then shoved them at him.

"I'll make sure y'all get the privacy you need," she said, despite her irritation. "Wade and I will be shoving off after dinner anyway, but he's leaving several of his men around the perimeter of the property to keep an eye on things."

Isaac grinned. "You know you love me, Lizzie."

She rolled her eyes and then made a shooing motion with her hand.

Isaac walked back into the living room, where Jenna still stood rigidly in the same spot he'd left her. He sighed and then sat down on the couch, setting the plates on the coffee table.

"Come eat with me, sweetheart. I don't even want to think about when the last time was that you had a decent meal."

Jenna moved forward, eyeing the plates. As she sat down, she sniffed appreciatively. Her eyes were wide when she took in the steak, baked potato with all the fixings and grilled asparagus.

Her gaze was hesitant when it lifted to Isaac's. "You mean I can have all this?"

He frowned. "Why the hell couldn't you? As you can see, I have my own plate."

She twisted her fingers nervously together until she was wringing her hands. "It's just that I was never allowed to have . . ."

She broke off, immediately closing herself off once more, and then picked up the fork and knife, looking down as if she didn't know which part of the meal she wanted to try first.

Just like that she became distant, the shields going up, and he knew he wasn't going to be able to get any of the answers to the questions burning his tongue tonight. Damn it, but the parts she'd inadvertently disclosed frustrated and angered him and had him thinking that wherever she'd come from, whoever she was running from hadn't treated her any better than an animal.



       
         
       
        

There was something unworldly about her, a cloud of innocence and ignorance of the most basic things that made him believe she'd been kept tightly under wraps. A prisoner never allowed out of whatever hellhole she'd been sequestered in. And the fact that she knew so little of the modern world also told him she hadn't been there a short time, either.

He sighed, seeing that she was tense and wary, probably expecting him to start demanding answers at any time. After all, he'd told her as much on their way here. That she was going to tell him everything.

Wanting to give her one night when she wasn't so burdened down that she staggered under the weight of so much worry, he reached over and brushed his fingertip down the line of her cheek.

"Just eat, Jenna. We'll talk when you trust me enough to let me in and share what you were running from. Until then, I'm just going to have to prove to you that I'll never hurt you, I'll always protect you and that I'm willing to wait until you're ready to tell me your secrets."

He nearly groaned because when she lifted her gaze to his, she looked at him like he was the only man in the world. Like he was some kind of damn hero. Her hero. Her eyes went shiny with tears and her smile . . . Jesus, her smile. It had the effect of a sledgehammer to his gut.

"No one has ever been nice to me," she said, almost whispering. "I had given up hope that kindness existed in the world, but you-all of you-have shown me that it does. You'll never know how much this has meant to me."

He wanted to weep at the sincerity in her words. The calm, matter-of-fact way she'd said that no one had ever shown her kindness. And yet she was an angel in a world that had shown her no mercy. His damaged angel. An angel with broken wings just dying to fly. He made a vow that she would fly again, no matter what he had to do in order to make that happen.

"Eat," he ordered in a gruff voice laced with emotion. It was all he could say without risking breaking down in front of her. He wanted to put his fist through the wall, but what he most wanted was to get his hands on the bastards who'd made her suffer, who'd made her life a living hell for so long.

She excitedly dug into the steak first and he watched her expression as the first bite hit her tongue. She chewed reverently and then closed her eyes, sighing deeply as she savored the taste of the perfectly cooked meat.