“Blue, why?”
“Dark or powder?”
She frowned. “Why?”
“Because I’m buying you a car and I want you to like it.”
She looked at him evenly. “I thought you wanted me to move.”
He felt any smile he might have been wearing fade. “I wanted you to be safe. I still do.”
She took a deep breath. “I had a bad dream that I don’t want to talk about and you can’t buy me a car.”
“What color?” he asked politely.
“Black,” she said shortly, “and don’t put it in my name or I won’t drive it.”
“Then I’ll purchase it and you drive it as long as you want it,” he said.
She rolled her eyes and reached for her cup. Her hand was trembling, so she curled her fingers into her palm and put her hands in her lap. He would have winced, indeed he suspected he had, but he didn’t know what he could do about it outside of putting her on a plane to a different country himself.
He didn’t think he could manage that.
They ate in silence and he finalized a car inquiry over the phone with a dealer in Inverness. Short of either sending her away or locking her in her house, he had provided what safety and security he could for the next pair of days.
After that, he just didn’t know.
•••
Severalhours later, he was standing with her on her front porch, waiting for her to let herself inside. It had been a pleasant day as days out went, full of nothing but the sea and sky and a decent afternoon tea on the way home. He hardly knew what to say and he wasn’t going to force her to talk about anything she didn’t want to.
She let herself into her house, flicked on the lights, then paused.
“Shall I light your fire for you?” he asked.
She nodded, looking as if not even that could warm her. He’d driven home only after having wrapped her in a blanket he’d bought in the same store where he’d found a warm coat for her, but neither had seemed to be of any use to her.
He lit the fire, brushed off his hands, then turned and looked at her. She was standing by the kitchen table, looking exhausted. And why not? She’d likely been standing in that dungeon the whole time. He understood. He’d spent his own share of time in that pit, and he hadn’t dared sit, either.
“I could make you tea before I go—”
“Stay.”
He looked at her in surprise. “Sorry?”
She gestured inelegantly toward the little lounge. “Surely you have crap TV here in the UK. Why don’t you stay and watch some with me.” She looked at him. “You know. Normal stuff.”
He let out the breath he realized he’d been holding all day. “Happily.”
She moved to take the kettle to fill it. He supposed he wouldn’t have managed to catch it before she dropped it if he hadn’t been expecting the like.
“Why don’t you sit,” he suggested. “I’ll bring the tea.”
“We don’t have anything stronger.”
“I would imagine there’s whisky in the cupboard,” he assured her.
“I was hoping for chocolate.”
