His eyes made a quick pass of her nude body, but it wasn’t because he was checking her out. His gaze was too full of anxiety. “Are you cold?”
“No colder than you are, I’d imagine.”
“They couldn’t even spare a blanket, huh?”
“I don’t think they’re worried about our wellbeing.”
“Do you know these people?”
“No. This has something to do with the Ursa. I’m sure of it.”
Josh adjusted the way he was sitting. His face contorted momentarily in discomfort, but he gritted his teeth. “Are you injured?”
“Nope. Just you. I’m so sorry, Josh.”
“I’ll heal. Don’t worry.”
She sat quietly, not knowing what to say and yet wanting to say so much. How did she even begin? How did she explain his eyes lit up her world better than the Paris skyline? She had no words for the magnetic pull she’d felt from an ocean away.
“Marcelle,” he began for her, cupping her cheek. “I…I missed you.”
She licked her dry lips before smiling. Not that it mattered. They still cracked. “I missed you too.”
“Why did you really leave France?”
“Honestly? France sucked. I hated Paris.”
“How could you hate Paris?”
“Because you weren’t there.”
His Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat, making all the scratches on his neck dance. “You’re my mate.”
“You’re mine.”
They gazed at each other, and every trace of pain on Josh’s face disappeared when he smiled.
“I wish I’d said something to make you stay.”
“I wish I’d never left.” He pulled her onto his lap so she was straddling him. She eased herself onto his lap, not wanting to hurt him. “Your wounds.”
“I don’t care. I want to hold you.” He dug his hand into her braids and dragged her closer.
She nestled against his chest. “This is weird, isn’t it? We don’t even know each other.”
“It’s weird, but it’s good. This is right.”
“What are we going to do?”
“We’ll get out of here. I just know it.” He kissed her face and looked into her eyes. “I’ll die before I let them touch you.”
The very thought made her doe whine in terror. When tears appeared in her eyes, Josh kissed them away.
“Hey, it’s going to be okay. I promise. I just found you. I’m not letting you go. We haven’t even had a real drink yet, you know, one that doesn’t come with cream and sugar.”
She giggled, but it sounded hollow.
“I hate the idea you were unhappy in Paris. When we get out of here, I’m going to take you back to Europe and we’re going to do it in style. Fine dining, fancy hotels, table service at swanky clubs, the whole nine yards. How does that sound?”
