“I don’t want to depend on you,” she murmured.
“You already do.”No hesitation.No apology.“And since someone just tried to run us over, I’m not losing sleep over that.”
The SUV slowed at a light, humming steadily while her pulse did the opposite.Kayne finally looked at her fully, turning just enough that she felt the weight of his attention settle over her skin like a physical touch.
His voice dropped, thick with something that wasn’t just concern.“Talk to me.”
“I don’t want to fall apart right now.”
“Who said anything about falling apart?”His gaze flicked to her mouth briefly before returning to her eyes.It was devastating to her equilibrium.“I’m asking you to let me in before something worse happens.”
Her breath snagged.
A horn blared behind them, shrill and jarring.The light had turned green.He didn’t move right away.He just watched her; the air between them thinned to something dangerous.
Then, with a slow exhale, he faced forward and eased the SUV through the intersection.“We’ll talk when we get somewhere safe.”
“Safe,” she repeated, barely audible.“Right.”
Except safe felt relative when the man driving was unraveling her with every low, measured word.
She folded her hands in her lap to stop the trembling.A moment later, his arm lifted from his thigh and he reached over—not to touch her, not yet—but to rest his hand on the console between them.Close enough that heat drifted toward her, inviting and unsettling in the same breath.
“I’ll know if you start shaking again,” he said quietly.“And I’m not above pulling over.”
Her heart slammed.“To do what?”
After a beat, he said in a voice warm enough to melt steel, “Whatever it takes to calm you down.”
Oh.Okay, that was helpful, not at all.
She turned back to the window, swallowing hard, because the city blurred outside but the danger inside the SUV was suddenly the thing stealing her breath.
And the worst part?
She didn’t want him to stop.
#
Kayne had seen closecalls before.Plenty.Too many to count.But nothing had affected him the way that damn sedan aiming for Chloe had.It was as if someone had jammed a crowbar into his ribs and twisted.
She sat in the passenger seat now, buckled in tight, still breathing too fast.Her hands trembled as she tried to convince the world, and herself, that she was made of iron.She wasn’t fine.A suffocating pressure welded him to the spot at the realization that neither was he.
He kept one hand steady on the wheel, the other resting on the console, ready.Always ready.
“Just breathe,” he said softly.
“Iambreathing.”
“That’s panting,cher.”
She shot him a glare.He welcomed it.Anger meant she was clawing back control.He preferred her pissed over terrified.
“You’re impossible,” she muttered.
“And you’re adorable when you’re lying to yourself,” he countered, steering them through the quiet intersection at Belmont.
Her eye twitch was spectacular.Truly impressive.If she weren’t shaken, he had no doubt she would’ve rolled her eyes so hard she sprained something.
