I should wake her. Push her gently back to her side of the seat and maintain some distance between us. That’s what a professional would do. That’s what the man she thinks I am would do.
But I don’t move. I barely breathe as her hair brushes against my neck.
Her body is warm against my side, relaxed in a way it hasn’t been since I first laid eyes on her. The furrow between her brows has smoothed out some, and in sleep, she looks younger. Softer.
This should have been different. Finding your mate is supposed to be sacred, but instead, I’ve met mine while she’s being sold. She thinks I’m one of her captors, and I have to let her go on believing it.
Kozlov has poisoned this. I add it to the list of things I’ll make him pay for later.
Her hand slides from her lap before landing on my thigh, fingers curling into the denim.
I bite back a groan.
Through the partition, I catch the driver’s eyes watching in the rearview mirror, taking notes. I don’t care. Let him report. Let him wonder.
Moving carefully, I shift so she’s resting more comfortably against me. The car’s climate has dropped, goosebumps rising on her bare arms. I shrug out of my jacket without waking her and drape it across her shoulders. Emma burrows deeper, her body responding instinctively to my scent, her cheek pressing into my shoulder. A small sound escapes her, something between a sigh and a murmur, and my bear rumbles with satisfaction.
She trusts me in sleep in a way she never would awake. At least, not yet.
I enjoy every minute and memorize every breath, every small shift of her weight, and the way her fingers twitch against my leg, as if she’s dreaming.
This is all I get of her… for now. This stolen moment while she doesn’t know who’s holding her.
The car begins to slow, and I close my eyes, bracing for the pain of being separated from her once more. Of perhaps never having a moment like this with her again until I get us safely home.
Gates appear in the headlights, wrought iron and imposing, and flanked by stone pillars topped with security cameras. Beyond them, a long driveway winds through manicured grounds toward a huge, imposing house. It looks more like a fortress than a home.
My bear doesn’t like this. It’s isolated with no hidden approach for Chase and his team. Extraction won’t be easy. Not without coming in all guns blazing.
Emma stirs against my shoulder, and my bear calms. We’ll figure it out. Whatever it takes.
Her fingers stroke my thigh, then go still, and I feel the exact moment awareness starts to creep back in, the slight tension returning to her body, changing her breathing.
I should move her before she wakes, spare her the embarrassment, but I don’t.
I give myself three more seconds. Three more breaths of her warmth against my side, of her hand on my leg, and her hair brushing my neck.
Then I brace myself for the moment she wakes up fully and remembers I’m the enemy.
6
EMMA
Smiling, I snuggle deeper into my bed.
I’m so warm. That’s the first thing I notice. Cozy and comfortable in a way I haven’t been since... I can’t even remember. There’s something solid beneath my cheek, and I’m nuzzling into it. Breathing in the comforting smell, my body completely relaxes and my mind calms.
Safe.
For a few blissful seconds, I’m nowhere. No debt, no gangsters in my kitchen, no deadlines. Just this.
Then, oh-so-slowly, awareness creeps in and tears me from my peaceful, dreamlike state. The leather seat beneath me is cold against the back of my shoulder.
There’s a low hum of an engine, the rumble of tires over asphalt and the faint glow of lights through my closed eyelids. More jarring than anything else is the steady rise and fall of the solid warmth I’m pressed against.
My eyes fly open.
I’m curled up beside Bodhi, my head half on his shoulder, half on his chest, and my hand is resting possessively on histhigh. High up on his thigh. So high, I think my pinky might be grazing something thick and hard every time I stroke his leg.
