His eyes narrowed, and damn the man seemed to be contemplating if it was worth the risk. His jaw ticked again and he huffed. “At least lean on me.”
That she could do. Taking his arm, they started forward. Amber moved to the side as they passed, then closed the door behind them. They made it down the hall in fairly decent time, but the stairs slowed her down. Four steps from the bottom, Lovell’s patience snapped, and he picked her up, depositing her at the bottom before she had a chance to protest.
She glared at him. He shrugged. Behind them, Amber stifled a giggle.
It was going to be a long day.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
“I’ve got your oatmeal and more coffee, if you’d like,” Dottie said as they entered the lodge room. Lovell ushered Daphne toward the long sofa closest to the fire, careful not to touch her again. Lifting her down the last of the stairs had been a gamble, but he’d hated the tense lines of pain on her face and the tentative way she’d taken each step, bracing herself every inch she moved.
“That would be amazing, thank you,” Daphne said, slowly lowering herself onto a chair.
“You need a massage,” Amber said.
Daphne’s gaze touched on his before she turned her attention to Amber. He probably shouldn’t have tried to rub away some of her soreness earlier. The moment, the experience, had gotten away from him and moved into a territory he had no right venturing. He wouldn’t be the dick who took advantage of the situation, but also, Daphne probably had men throwing themselves at her right and left. She didn’t need to deal with one more. Not now, not ever.
“I do,” Daphne agreed. “A gentle one, though. I’ll talk to Callie about it when she gets here.”
Lovell sat on the small couch, two seats away from Daphne. “The lodge, the one owned by the Warwicks?—”
“With the ski resort?” she asked.
He nodded. “I hear they have a good spa. Ava and Charley have mentioned it a few times.”
“Thanks,” she said, holding his eye. “I’ll look into it. It won’t solve all my problems, but a full body rubdown might work a few minor miracles.”
As she no doubt intended, his temperature skyrocketed. Thankfully, Amber said something he didn’t catch, pulling Daphne’s attention back to her, and Dottie reentered the room carrying a tray.
His phone dinged with a text as Dottie and Amber fussed over Daphne. A message from Callie.
“Chief Warwick and Ava will be here in fifteen minutes,” he said.
Daphne inclined her head. “Just enough time to eat. Thank you. Again,” she said to both Dottie and Amber.
“Holler when you’re done,” Amber replied. “We’ll come grab the tray. In the meantime, we’ll be in the kitchen figuring out dinner.”
Both women slipped from the room, leaving him and Daphne and the sound of her spoon occasionally clacking against her bowl as the fire crackled in the hearth.
“Other than the physical pain, how are you?” he asked. He knew a thing or two about trauma; most men who had the kind of career he’d had did.
He appreciated that she didn’t pretend to misunderstand.
“No nightmares, but I think I was too exhausted. Although I understand that sometimes, that’s when it can be the worst. I guess I’ll see what tonight brings.”
“Talk to someone, if you need to. There’s a woman here in town. She’s a psychologist, but also used to work for the FBI. I hear she’s good.”
Daphne finished chewing her bite. “Between my childhood and my career, I’m not a stranger to therapy. If anything comes up, I won’t sweep it under the carpet.”
He breathed a sigh of relief. “You told us about breaking out of the zip ties, but you sort of glossed over the rest of your escape. How’d you do it?” he asked. “Or do you want to wait until Ryan gets here?”
“I have a lot of interesting friends who have taught me a lot of interesting—and useful—things,” she said. She scooped the last of the oatmeal into her mouth. She probably needed more food, but at least she wasn’t tentative about eating like she had been the night before.
“Like?” he pressed.
“Like how to use people’s expectations against them. The importance of patience and planning.”
“And how to break out of zip ties.”
