Page 38 of The Quiet Witness

“Because of you.” Lucien came up to where she lay, feet propped up on the couch. “We’ve got a walking date with Clara and Denise. Today.”

Peace officially disturbed.

Kate offered a heavy sigh. She tore her eyes from the book clenched between her hands to throw him an impatient glance.

Dammit. In the middle of the action. How ironic.

Only to find he was wearing the same look. Someone wasn’t in the mood for a walk, eh. Well, make that two. She refocused on the inked pieces of paper, muttering lowly, “Too bad.”

His head tilted at her as she huddled deeper under the blankets. “Time to get off the couch. You’ve been sitting here for what, a week?” He crossed his arms, looking like a parent about to scold her. “Five minutes more and you’ll be plastered to the couch. Like one of those accessory pillows.”

He wasn’t far off.

In between her trek through the wilderness of Montana and falling through the ice, she had been recovering slowly. Pins and needles had been stabbing into her legs and feet with a vengeance. Not good at all, knowing what that could become. So she preferred to spend her time surrounded by books. Where she could slip off into imaginary worlds, ones where the protagonist was able to cross over a lake of ice. And not have a captor’s eyes on her weaknesses.

She made a show of considering his words. “Perhaps if you ask me nicely.”

Lucien moved closer, resting a hip against the couch, pulling on her blanket just the slightest bit. “Would you please get off the couch?” He halted, scraping his throat ceremoniously. “Your Royal Highness?”

He’d have to scare her off the couch, and if anything, his towering over her tactics had become… predictable. “No, consider me… busy.”

“I’m not gonna ask again.”

She flipped a page. “Good. I’ll consider it: Message received.”

Kate clocked his sharp intake of breath. Could practically hear him count to ten under his tongue. “Get. Off. The. Couch. Now.”

Someone was in some mood.

She really shouldn’t be pushing him like this. Especially seeing how he helped her a week ago. But she couldn’t help it. The failure of her escape still clung heavily to her recovering limbs. Visiting her waking and sleeping hours.

So, she flipped another page with a nail. Attention everywhere but on the ink-covered pages.

“Don’t tempt me, sweetheart. Now is not a good time.”

No kidding. What would he do? Drown her in the bathtub? She snorted. He had a lake to clear up the problem for him. Should have taken it when he had the chance.

“Same.” She mumbled, placing a hand over her heart. “But I do regret you feeling this way. That said, I’m sure Clara would love to have some time alone with you.”

He raised his fingers. “Three seconds, Kate.”

Her smirk faltered. “Or what?”

Like a parent scolding her, indeed.

“Do you want me to tell you? So you can make an informed decision?” He shifted a finger. “Two.”

Her chin lifted. “Do enlighten me.”

If he could just buzz off and leave her alone. That’d be great.

“One.” He moved in, final warning given.

He rounded the couch. Stretching his neck left and right with a crack as he closed in on her.

She scrambled on the couch, upright in a second. Book already forgotten where it lay, haphazard on the blanket she’d deserted. “Alright, alright. Pushy some, jeez.” She wrung her hands together. “You really ought to work on your gentlemanly manners.”

Fine. Tactics win.