“Don’t,” he ordered quietly as she tried to snatch her hand back. “If I’d wanted to hurt you I would have done it already.”
There was something wild in her eyes that reminded him of an animal caught in a trap, and he knew he should let her go. But her hand was so cold. He only wanted to warm it up.
So he held on as her arm tensed and she tried to pull it away, tightening his grip. “Mia.” He kept his voice low, putting all his authority into it, and sure enough, her wild black eyes came to his. “Stay still. You’re freezing.”
She gave a convulsive shiver, as if by saying it aloud, he’d made it true. “Don’t,” she said faintly. “Don’t touch me.”
He ignored that too, extracting her little fruit knife and throwing it down on the seat before taking her other hand as well, closing both of his around hers. Her hands were very small, with long delicate bones, so he was careful as he began to chafe them gently to get some warmth back into them.
Her eyes had gone wide, staring down at where his hands held hers. “What are you doing?”
“Hopefully warming your hands up. You weren’t wearing gloves. Which isn’t a good move on a night like tonight.”
“I lost them.” Her voice had gone faint. “Don’t do that.”
He paid no attention, concentrating on the slightly roughened skin beneath his fingers. “Silly girl,” he murmured, rubbing gently. “You’ll get frostbite if you’re not careful.”
What the hell are you doing? Sitting there rubbing a homeless woman’s hands? You’re not supposed to be giving a shit. In fact, you’re famous for it.
But he didn’t much care about the answer to that question, so he ignored it. Because what did it matter what he was doing? What was more important was that she get warm and get some food. Hell, she needed a bath, and a bed too, and he could provide that. In fact, he wanted to.
“You’re coming home with me, Mia.” He left no room for argument. “I’ll give you dinner and then you can stay the night with me.”
She was shaking her head already, pulling at her imprisoned hands. “Just take me to the shelter.”
“No.” Because there was no way, just no fucking way, he was letting her go. Not to the shelter and certainly not out onto the street. “I’m not expecting anything from you, trust me on this, and I’ve got more than enough room. You can pick your bedroom and one of them has a massive tub. You could drown an elephant in it, I’m not even kidding.”
But she kept shaking her head, her arms tense.
So he kept on rubbing gently at her hands, because if she could be stubborn, then so could he and he was not moving on this. Not one iota. “You’re seriously turning down a hot bath? In a huge tub?” He slid his thumbs up and over the backs of her hands then down again, over and over. “It has jets, Mia. Jets.”
Why is this so important to you? Why do you have to keep insisting?
He really didn’t know, nor did he care. It was simply that over the course of the past couple of weeks at the shelter, he’d become fascinated with this strange, intense woman and he’d started to think of her as his. And he didn’t have much that was his, not when everything was provided for him by his father. A good thing really, since he wasn’t a careful man, not with anything. His stuff tended to get blown up or used for target practice or discarded carelessly, like he’d done with his toys when he’d been a kid.
She’s not one of your toys, dick.
Obviously. And he wasn’t going to treat her as one either.
Her jaw firmed, and suddenly she jerked her hands away from his. “I don’t need a bath,” she said flatly. “I try to have a shower every day at the shelter.”
Looked like he’d offended her. Prickly little thing. At least her fingers had started to feel warmer though, so he made no move to keep hold of them, leaning his elbows on his knees instead. “Well you might. But your clothes definitely haven’t.”
That soft sweet mouth of hers went tight, her dark brows drawing down.
Yeah, she was offended all right. Too bad, though. Her clothes were dirty, they probably needed to go in the trash. “Hate to break it to you,” he went on, because she’d gone silent again, “but although you might be clean, your clothes are not. And not only are they dirty, they’re wet too, which isn’t exactly conducive to keeping you warm.”
She looked down at her hands. “I can get more.”
“More what?”
“Clothes. The shelter gives me whatever I need.”
“Good for them, but if it hasn’t escaped your notice, the shelter is closed. They can’t exactly give you anything right now.”