Page 23 of Mountain Shadow

She opened the door, smiling at her internal monologue.

“Thank you. You didn’t have to do that.” She sniffed delicately. “It smells good.”

“Glad you think so. It’s just a croque madame.” He smiled as she walked past him. “At some point, you’re going to have to tell me if there’s any food you don’t like.”

“Croque madame? I’ve heard of croque monsieur, but—”

“It’s the same thing, but with an egg in the middle.”

Looking at the food, Sarah realized she was starving. She’d been eating non-stop since she arrived in France. If she wasn’t careful, she was going to gain ten pounds before the week was out.

“Thank you, Jens,” she said.

It was nice, this feeling. Not him—he wasn’t nice. Protective, intense, attentive—those were all words one might use to describe him. But nobody would describe him as nice. There was too much of the soldier, too much of the warrior inside him.

But he made Sarah feel safe.

It’d been a long time since she’d felt this way, but the feeling was not so alien that she didn’t recognize it for what it was. Although he was careful to give her space, she felt his protectiveness every moment of the day.

Of course, grateful wasn’t the only thing she felt for him.

Grateful doesn’t make you wonder what a man looks like when he takes his T-shirt off.

Grateful doesn’t make you want to kiss him every time he walks by.

Sarah was done lying to herself. She was attracted to Jens. And, judging by the way she caught him looking at her when he didn’t realize she was watching, he felt exactly the same.

She also knew him well enough by now to know he wouldn’t act on it.

Unless I convince—

“Sarah? Did you hear what I said?”

Sarah tried, unsuccessfully, to rewind the last few minutes of conversation in her mind, but she’d missed too much. She shook her head apologetically.

Jens waved his hand in the air. She forced herself to look away from his strong forearm—never before in her life had she drooled over a man’s forearm like this—and focus on the object in his hands.

Keys.

“These are the house keys. Front door, balcony door, and garage.” He placed the key fob gently on the table, then pulled up a car key. “And here are the car keys in case you need to go anywhere.”

“You’re giving me your car keys? What will you do?”

“I plan on sticking to you like glue, but if we need to split up, you can take the car. I have a bike.”

The image of him straddling a bike took her breath away.

Can he get any hotter?

“Now, about safety. If somebody rings the doorbell, let me answer it.”

“How will we explain my presence here?” she asked. This was probably something she should have asked beforehand.

“I clean my own place, and I don’t usually have guests, so it shouldn’t be an issue,” he said. He licked his lips. “I don’t … I don’t like having people here that much.”

His words fell like a jar of cold water on her.

“No. I don’t mean it like that,” he said quickly, sounding embarrassed. “You don’t feel like people. I mean, you’re a person, of course. Just not—”