Page 82 of Under Arthur’s Protection

He was already back. His ridiculous excuse about the car and the T-shirts didn’t get him anywhere.

I rubbed my hands up and down my arms to calm the goosebumps. Whether they were from the cold or from the thought of seeing Arthur, I wasn’t sure. There would definitely be a ‘What are you doing outside?’ discussion, but hopefully it would be followed by, ‘I want to kiss you.’

The churning in my stomach moved lower, evolving into a more pleasurable sensation.

Was that a sign or biology? Did my body care if he was like Lionel or not? A pulse ran between my thighs. Nope, my body didn’t care. It wanted more of him.

The headlights moved slowly on the far side of the street. Too slowly? As though the driver was searching for an address. It rolled under a street lamp, so I saw it was a sedan, not the Land Rover. Maybe Arthur had found somewhere to swap vehicles? He wouldn’t steal one, would he?

It pulled alongside me and stopped. The driver’s window came down, and a man waved to me. He was broad through the shoulders. A jawline and presence that reminded me of Arthur and Lance.

I stepped backward.

“Excusez-moi, madame. Est-ce que vous savez—” His voice was deep. He winced and tried again. “Pardon, ah… Parlez-vous anglais?”

Where was Arthur? I checked both directions on the street, as though he’d appear exactly when I needed him.

“I’m looking for a hotel, or a chambre d’hôtel?” The man smiled sheepishly. “I’ve been driving for hours, and everything’s closed.”

It was at least ten at night and pitch black, other than the street and house lights.

“Désolée.” I took another step backward, up the driveway. I held my hands out, hoping it read as my not understanding.

“No worries.” He waved, and the car began rolling forward as he called out, “Sorry to bother you.”

I turned and walked to the side door.

Don’t run. Don’t look back. Listen for his tires, in case he slows or comes back.

I turned the knob, stepped inside, and shut it behind me. Locked it.

And I ran for my phone.

Arthur picked up before the first ring had finished. “What’s wrong?”

“A man just stopped his car next to me.” My words tumbled out. “He started in French, and switched to English. Said he was looking for a hotel.”

“Take it easy.” His voice sounded mostly calm, but his words came faster than usual. “Describe him to me.”

“Big. Strong. Like you and Lance.” I hurried to the front of the house and peered out the window. “He felt wrong.”

“You said he stopped next to you. Where are you?”

“I’m inside the house. But I…” Fuck, Gwen. “I was in the driveway.”

“Why were you outside?”

Because you kissed me and left, and I couldn’t breathe in this kitchen. “I needed air.”

“Pack everything.” In his background, the turn signal clicked over and over. “Laptop, sword, and all your things. Be ready at the door in two minutes. I’m coming back.”

“Okay.”

“Two minutes, Gwen.” The turn signal stopped. “Are you packing?”

“Um…” I couldn’t stop watching the road.

“Move,” he said. “Now.”