Maya Banks - Hidden Away

“You’ll stay,” he said, his tone brooking no argument.

And she found herself nodding.

“Good. Now that we have that out of the way, I’ll go put some clean sheets on the bed for you.”

She caught his arm, still so rattled she could barely process what she wanted to say. “No. I’ll sleep here on the couch.”

He shook his head. “You can have the bed.”

“Garrett, no. Okay? I’m fine. I swear it. There is no way you can fit onto this couch and you damn sure aren’t sleeping on the floor. I can take the sofa.”

He gave her an impatient look and then sighed. “Tell you what. We’ll share the bed.”

She found herself shaking her head before he could even get the words out. Panic raced up her spine. Chill bumps rose and fanned out, prickling over her skin like tiny razors.

He touched the side of her face. “Listen to me, Sarah. I’m not going to hurt you. Okay? The bed is plenty big. We can put pillows between us. I’ll stay on my side and you stay on yours. I don’t want you in this front room alone, so we either both sleep in the bed, or if you insist on taking the couch, I’ll have to camp out on the floor next to you.”

She was being stupid. She knew it but couldn’t fight the overwhelming fear that gripped her. It was irrational. It was blind. But when was fear ever sensible? She wanted to trust this man. That didn’t make any sense either, but there it was. The problem was, it wasn’t a matter of her deciding she trusted him or wanted to trust him and she could go on like a normal human being.

Her head didn’t care what her heart said. Her head was telling her to stop being a twit and to wise up.

Garrett stared at her a long moment and then reached behind his back and pulled out the gun. He gripped the barrel and extended the stock toward her.

She stared at the gun and then raised her gaze to his, her brow furrowed with confusion.

“You can sleep with this under your pillow. That way you’ll be safe from me. I won’t move the entire night. Not only am I used to sleeping in one position, but I damn sure don’t want to risk scaring you and getting my balls blown off.”

She tried to smile but could only think how pitiful her life had gotten. The only way she could allow a man to sleep in the same bed with her was if he offered her a gun for self-protection?

She closed her eyes. Jesus. It made her angry. So damn angry.

Finally she shook her head.

Garrett’s gaze softened as he tucked the gun back into his waistband. “I swear to you that you have nothing to fear from me, Sarah.”

She nodded her acceptance of his vow and lowered herself back onto the couch. Patches quit grooming herself and came over to rub against Sarah’s hand. She petted the cat, allowing the simple gesture to calm her fried nerves. And she tried not to think about the fact that she’d be sleeping mere inches away from Garrett.

PALE shades of dawn painted the room in gradually lightening shadows. Garrett lay on his side, his head propped in his hand as he stared over the barrier of pillows to where Sarah slept. She hadn’t moved the entire night. He knew because he’d slept lightly and he woke up regularly to check on her.

She was huddled on her side facing him, and she’d inched as far to the edge of the bed as she could without falling off. Patches lay against her chest, curled into a ball of fur. At the moment, the cat was awake and batting lazily at the strands of Sarah’s hair that fell over her shoulder.

Though Sarah was asleep, there was no peace to her expression. Her brow was wrinkled and her lips drawn into a tight line as if her jaw was clenched tight. Dark smudges lay underneath her eyes as though she hadn’t rested in many nights. She probably hadn’t. He was glad that she’d slept soundly here. Maybe she felt safe with him. Or as safe as she could feel with a strange man.

He reached over and touched her cheekbone with one finger and then softly traced a line downward to her jaw and then to her lips. Lips he’d tasted the night before. She uttered a breathy sigh and her features relaxed, the tension easing from her face.

He was a dumbass to get all mushy about a woman who obviously had a great deal of baggage. There were so many reasons why he needed to treat this just like any other job. He had to be the world’s biggest pussy for being so soft-hearted when it came to her. It was, unfortunately an affliction he seemed to have around women. Rachel. Then Sophie. And now Sarah. He hadn’t even liked Sophie in the beginning, but that hadn’t stopped him from taking a bullet for her. And now he’d do damn near anything for his two sisters-in-law.

The difference here was that he hadn’t ever wanted to kiss his sisters-in-law. Oh he was hugely protective of them. No doubt there. But with Sarah, it was different. And he didn’t like it. Not even a little bit. But neither could he help the reaction to her.

It was as if he went on auto pilot around her. No matter what he thought, it all went out the window the moment he looked into her eyes.

“This bullshit has to stop,” he muttered. He was fast losing objectivity and worse, he was forgetting the task at hand. All he was supposed to do was keep her safe and wait for Lattimer to make his move.

The sun hadn’t yet to creep over the horizon. Sarah would likely sleep awhile. It would give him a chance to go back over to her cottage and check things out. The copious downpour from the night before made it difficult to find outside evidence, but he was going to give the cottage a thorough checking-over now that it was getting light.

SARAH opened her eyes as soon as she heard the front door close. She scrambled out of bed and peeked out the window to see Garrett jog down the beach toward her cottage. She would have to move fast if she was going to get out before he came back.

She might very well be going crazy. Maybe there hadn’t been anyone in her cottage, but she wasn’t about to stick around on the off chance she was losing her marbles. She had an escape plan—a darn good one for as little resources as she had. And it was time to ask Marcus for help, as much as the thought scared her.

She went to her bag and hauled out a change of clothing but dug deeper until her fingers glanced over the bulge in the inside pocket. She pulled out the pay-as-you-go cell phone she’d only used once so far and punched in the number she’d committed to memory.

“Allo?”

“Frederick, it’s Sarah. It’s time.”

“D’accord.”

She ignored the sound of amusement in his voice and hung up. Her heart beat so fast and hard that she couldn’t squeeze in a breath. She closed her eyes to shake the light-headedness, and when she reopened them, the room spun at a dizzying speed.

“Get it together,” she bit out.

Her gaze snagged on the note that Garrett had left her. She paused and then went back to the bed where Patches lay purring. She picked up the piece of paper and scanned the uneven scrawl.

Be back soon. Don’t worry.

She blew out a long breath. There was a part of her that hated leaving. Maybe the entire night had been her imagination, but it had shaken her confidence enough that she knew she couldn’t stay here. She was terrified to go back to her cottage, and she couldn’t stay with Garrett forever. She didn’t even know how long he was here for.

And if she hadn’t imagined her intruder, she’d only bring trouble, and with him recovering from a bullet wound, trouble was the last thing Garrett needed.

She picked up the pen on the nightstand and turned the paper over. She sighed. How to tell him everything she wanted to? That the days spent here on the island with him had saved her life. Well, if she survived her current problems, he’d saved it. Okay, she was being way too melodramatic. A simple thanks would have to suffice. She scribbled a quick note and laid it back on the bed next to the cat. She rubbed Patches on the head and whispered good-bye before hurrying out the front door.

Once on the beach, she turned in the opposite direction of town. The path narrowed to nothing and the sand gave way to a rocky coastline the farther west she went. There were no houses on the westernmost point of the island. The beach was rugged and gave no opportunity for lounging.

By the time she reached the rendezvous point, she was winded and stood holding her side as she sucked in breaths. She scanned the water, looking for a boat, but all she saw were the waves crashing against the rock outcroppings.

Then a distant sound, like the wine of an engine, drifted to her on the breeze. It grew louder and louder until she saw what looked like an inflatable boat with an engine ’round the bend and zip between two outcroppings. It sped toward the beach and the pilot cut the engine just as the nose slid onto the sand.

She hurried forward, clutching her bag and the carryall with her laptop in it.

Frederick waved to her and smiled. The man thought she was an idiot—but an idiot who paid well nonetheless.

He held out his hand to help her into the boat. She climbed over, making sure she didn’t drop her bags, and the pilot gestured for her to take a seat in the middle.

He backed away from the beach and executed a sharp turn just as a wave rolled in. He gunned it over the swell and sped away.

Sarah huddled in her seat, holding on to her bags as the craft bounced and swayed over the water. She looked back as the island got smaller and smaller in the distance. Her throat knotted and she rubbed to assuage the ache. It was silly to have regret over what she’d left behind. There was nothing. She had no ties to the island. She’d only been there a short time. But still, she couldn’t shake the sense of sadness over leaving Garrett—a man who had helped her when he didn’t have to. A man who seemed to understand the demons she fought.