Men Of Honour

“We’ll be all right, Buddy. You’ll see.”

Buddy bounded around in agreement, burning off some energy before Jett took him back inside. To keep the dog occupied, Jet set up his doggy bed, his water and food dish and gave him a big juicy chew toy.

Buddy looked to be in doggy heaven.

With that done, Jett went into the bathroom and found Natalie resting in a steamy tub, her curly hair piled atop her head, her eyes closed and her luscious body lax. The water lapped at her chin and had already turned her toes pink.

She looked exhausted.

Jett stood there, no longer so stunned by his revelation. Of course he loved her. How could he not?

And it had nothing to do with her being elusive, as he’d first thought. Sure, that had first enhanced his interest, after her incredible body and sexual daring had caught his attention.

But it was Natalie herself who kept his thoughts in turmoil and made him feel those remarkable, unrecognizable, profound emotions. By being herself, a kind, intelligent and sexy woman, she had completely stolen his heart.

Life had taken her to hell and back, but she remained generous and open, honest and accepting. She used her childhood hardships as a learning tool to help other children now. He had no doubt she could be stern when necessary, but she would always be fair.

“Natalie?”

She looked up at him, her lashes spiked, her cheeks dewy. She sounded slumberous. “I didn’t hear you come in.”

She didn’t bother to cover herself or act shy about her body. From the beginning, she’d been an uninhibited lover. It was only in sharing her heart that she became shy.

But he’d get her over that. “Have you washed up?”

“Mmm.” She closed her eyes again. “I did that first, because I knew once I got warm, I’d get sleepy.”

“Not too sleepy, I hope.” As he scooped her out of the tub, her eyes flashed open again.

“Jett!”

Water sluiced down their bodies and onto the floor. He didn’t care.

“I need you, Natalie.” Such an understatement. Now that he knew he loved her, he wanted to hear a similar declaration from her. But he didn’t mind going first.

“I thought you’d be tired from all that tense driving.”

“Especially after that, I need you.” While carrying her to the bed, he kissed her nose, her forehead, her temple and ear. “I’ll always need you, you know.”

Her breath caught at the weighty meaning of those words. “What?”

Jett stood her beside the bed. He touched her cheek, brushed the corner of her mouth with his thumb. “Damn, but the things you make me feel are…powerful.”

“Powerful?”

He held out a hand, showing her. “You make me shake.”

“Oh, Jett.” She closed both her hands around his. “That’s just reaction from a near wreck.”

“No, honey. That’s reaction to knowing you could have been hurt. I wouldn’t be able to bear that.” Smiling was beyond him, so instead he kissed her. “Don’t move.”

He was back in seconds with a towel and he went about drying her. Going down to his knees in front of her, he took his time, being quite thorough. “God, Natalie, I love your body.”

She laughed nervously, her hand in his hair. “I don’t understand you tonight.”

Jett looked up at her. “I love your laugh, too.”

Her voice trembled. “Jett, really…”

“And the way you shrug off compliments.” He stood and cupped her face. “You’re tired, aren’t you?”

After slowly licking her lips, she ventured, “Well, not too tired, not now, not after you’ve just been touching me.”

He made a sound between a growl and a groan. “I especially love how sexual you are.” Knowing his repeated use of the L word had thrown her, Jett gently lowered her to the bed and knelt over her. “Just relax and let me do everything.”

“But…” Her beautiful eyes searched his. “You have to be tired, too.”

He shook his head and cupped her breasts in both hands. “I’m in love. Now hush.”

She went perfectly still, frozen, stiff—but Jett didn’t let that stop him. He caressed her breasts, teased her nipples.

“Jett, wait.” Natalie tried to catch his arm. “What did you say?”

“I said for you to hush.”

“No, before—”

He drew her nipple into his mouth, stealing her breath.

But her fingers clenched tight in his hair. “Damn it, Jett.”

Laughing a little, he said, “I even love it when you’re bossy.”

She breathed hard and fast, her gaze intent. He watched her throat as she swallowed. “You said…you said you love me.”

He could understand her confusion. “I’ve been battling with myself, pissed off one minute, jealous the next. And so damn turned on I couldn’t stand it, but it was never enough.” He shook his head. “You’ve turned me inside out, woman.”

Natalie searched his face a moment, then frowned. “Good.”

“Good?”

“You’ve turned me inside out, too.” Tears burned her eyes. “You love me?”

“Why else would I let you torture me like this?” He pushed her hair from her face. “When I lost control of the car… God, I’ve faced a lot of shit in my life, and I just sort of roll with it. But thinking you could have been hurt? It shook me. Bad. And I knew I had to stop being a chickenshit and just ’fess up.”

Slow to accept his declaration, she asked uncertainly, “By saying you love me?”

“Yeah.” He gave her a lopsided grin and shook her a little. “And if you love me, too, you need to put me out of my damned misery and tell me so.”

She launched herself close to him. “I love you. I’ve loved you for a long time now. I didn’t want to admit it because if I did, and you didn’t feel the same—”

“I feel it. Trust me, I’ve got it bad.” Lowering them both to the bed, Jett kissed her parted lips. “Say it again.”

Her hands opened on his chest. She stroked him then slowly slid her arms around his neck. “I love you, too.”

Thank God. But she was so skittish about family and relationships, he had to make sure she understood. Braced on his elbows over her, he gave her his most intent stare. “I need more than just sex, Natalie.”

Her gaze was soft, her voice more so. “How much more?”

In comparison, he sounded harsh and demanding. “Everything. The whole shebang.” The more he talked about it, the more he needed it. The more he needed her. Of course, she looked so happy and so accepting that his thoughts had already skipped ahead to being inside her, to hearing her cry out, feeling her squeezing him… Stay on track, Jett.

“The whole shebang, huh?”

“Commitment, marriage, fidelity.” As her legs wound around him, it became more difficult to explain. “You haven’t known the best relationships, honey, but I swear to you, we’ll be good together. We’ll be fucking amazing together.”

“I know.”

“We’ll have the forever kind—” Her smile finally reached him. Jett straightened his arms, staring at her in bemusement. “What do you mean, you know?”

She laughed with affection. “Jett, I already told you that you’re wonderful. I meant it. So a lifetime with you would be wonderful.”

“You’ll marry me?”

“Yes.” The smile remained but was now more subdued. “I might need time to get used to things. I mean, your family is the exact opposite of mine.”

“We’ll work on your family.”

“No.” She shuddered. “I don’t want to do that. And trust me, once you meet my father and stepmother, you’ll feel the same.”

“Whatever makes you happy.” If that meant winning over her ass of a father, he’d do it. Somehow.

But if she truly wanted to cut him out, that was fine with Jett.

Big tears welled in her eyes, and her smile trembled. “The thing is, I always knew my family was…abnormal. I always believed there could be love and friendship and happiness.”

“You’ll have that with me, I swear.”

“I know, because today, through that long trip from hell…I realized I already had it. You made the whole thing fun. Well, except for that business there at the very end—”

“Don’t.” Jett closed his eyes, unable to think about that and how easily he could have lost her. “I’m not perfect, Natalie.”

“I know that too.”

Jett cocked a brow. So now she was laughing at him? He grinned. “For you, I’ll try to be perfect.”

“For me, if you’d just go on being you, I’ll be a very happy woman.”

Her complete and utter acceptance of him put him over the edge. Within half a minute he had stripped his clothes away. Seconds after that, he was over her again, kissing her, touching her.

Entering her in one long, smooth thrust.

Everything was different now. More potent.

More satisfying.

They had one moment of shock when, just after they came together, Buddy tried to jump up onto the bed.

Natalie screeched, and that made Buddy howl.

Still in a fog, it took Jett a second to realize what had happened. Luckily the dog was too short to make the leap, though he was certainly trying. “Down, Buddy.” Jett jerked the comforter around them both.

Natalie started giggling, and once she started, she couldn’t stop.

Chagrined, Jett felt his own smile crack. Yeah, everything was different.

And damn, it couldn’t be more perfect.

THREE DAYS LATER, STILL snowed in, Buddy came to the bed and barked. Natalie didn’t hesitate. She nudged Jett.

“Hmm?”

They were both naked. Again. Or maybe still. Jett had dressed to get them food and to take Buddy out, but so far she’d only been partially clothed at any given time.

She hadn’t been out of the room once—and hadn’t minded in the least.

“Jett?”

“Mmm…Natalie.” He tried to pull her closer, already kissing her shoulder, his hand sliding around to her stomach.

The man was insatiable.

She was so lucky.

“Buddy has to go out.”

Letting out a sigh, Jett turned to his back and managed to get his eyes open. He yawned, stretched and lifted up on an elbow to look at her. “Hey, beautiful.”

Very softly, Natalie said, “Hey.”

He lifted one brow then smoothed the sheet away from her breasts. “Didn’t I tell you that you wouldn’t need clothes?”

“You were mostly right.” Natalie swatted the sheet back down. “But if I had clothes, I could offer to take a turn with Buddy.”

“I don’t mind.” Jett patted her hip and rolled out of the bed. “Be back in a few.”

Skipping boxers and a shirt, he pulled on jeans, stepped into his shoes and grabbed his coat. Buddy, already well used to their routine, danced around him.

Jett hooked the leash to his collar. “He looks energetic this morning, so I’m going to walk him around the halls a little after he takes care of his business.”

“Want me to order room service while you do that?”

“Naked?” He gave her a mock frown. “Hell no. I’ll bring something back with me.”

And so it went. Natalie did little to nothing while Jett pampered her in the most outrageous ways. She was still in the shower when he returned. She heard him and started to turn off the water, but then the shower curtain moved and he stepped in behind her.

He kissed the nape of her neck and wrapped his strong arms around her. “Natalie?”

She put her head on his shoulder. “Hmm?”

“This is the best damn vacation I’ve ever been on.”

Shaking her head, she laughed and said, “You’re easy.”

Slowly, the grin slipped over his face. “I’ve had you all to myself all this time. It’s been perfect.” He set her back from him again. “But the damned snow has finally stopped and the roads are getting cleared. No way could we make it to the cabin. The side roads are going to be screwed for a while. But it looks like we could head back tomorrow morning, if that’s what you want to do.”

Only one more day alone with him. Natalie sighed. “I’ve loved every second here with you.”

“But you’re worried about your sister, right?”

“Yes.” Before getting in the shower, she’d checked her email account. “I got an email from her.”

“And? You don’t look happy about it.”

Far from happy, she was now more concerned than ever. “There was something wrong with the message.”

“What kind of wrong?”

“It was too brief, and far too cryptic to be from Molly.”

“What did it say?”

“Just that she’d be gone for a while, off having some fun for a change, and that she’d get in touch when she could.” Natalie shook her head. “That’s not her. She’d have told me where she was going, given me a way to get in touch with her.” Natalie chewed her lip. “If she was going to have fun, she’d want me to know about it.”

“The way you want her to know that you’re having fun now?”

Natalie nodded. It was so frustrating that she couldn’t reach Molly. And deep down inside herself, she knew something wasn’t right. “If you’re sure you don’t mind, I think we should head back.”

“Of course I don’t mind. If it was one of my sisters, I’d be the same.” His sexy mouth lifted into a grin. “Speaking of my sisters, they’re going to go even more nuts for you once they know we’re getting married.”

Natalie touched the middle of his chest then dragged her finger ever so slowly downward. Life was ready to intrude, but she still had today. “Guess I better make the most of our remaining time, then.”

“Sounds like one hell of a plan.” Jett closed his eyes when she circled her hand around him. “As long as you remember that our remaining time is forever.”

What kind of trouble is Natalie’s sister, Molly Alexander, in?

Find out in WHEN YOU DARE, the first of a sizzling new trilogy from Lori Foster and HQN Books.

Coming soon!

When You Dare

Praise for New York Times and USA TODAY bestselling author Lori Foster

“Foster writes smart, sexy, engaging characters.”

—New York Times bestselling author Christine Feehan

“Known for her funny, sexy writing”

—Booklist

“Foster’s latest is pure entertainment and a joy to read.”

—RT Book Reviews on Back in Black

“Foster outwrites most of her peers.”

—Library Journal

“Intense, edgy and hot. Lori Foster delivers everything

you’re looking for in a romance.”

—New York Times bestselling author Jayne Ann

Krentz on Hard to Handle

“Lori Foster delivers the goods.”

—Publishers Weekly

“Tension, temptation, hot action, and hotter romance—

Lori Foster has it all! Hard to Handle is a knockout!”

—New York Times bestselling author

Elizabeth Lowell

Dear Readers,

I’ve launched into a new series of über-Alpha hunks. The men are similar to private mercenaries, so they’re big, capable, a little dangerous and oh-so-sexy. When it comes to rescuing the innocent, they do what has to be done, however it has to be done. I like to call them my men who “walk the edge of honour.”

Stay tuned for the next two books in the series, Trace of Fever and Savour the Danger, coming soon.

To see more about the books, visit my website at www.LoriFoster.com. And feel free to chat with me on my Facebook fanpage: www.facebook.com/pages/LoriFoster/233405457965.

I’m very excited about this new series, and I hope you will be, too!

To Shana Schwer,

Thank you for lending me your fur babies, Sargie and Tai, to be featured as the Labs in the book. Your girls are truly beautiful, and I love their unique personalities.

I hope I did them justice!

Pet owners are truly wonderful people!

Lori

CHAPTER ONE

MIDNIGHT CAME AND went with only the quiet buzz of meager traffic along the beach. An occasional horn blew or tires squealed. Two people exited a bar nearby, laughing too loud before piling into an SUV and steering drunkenly onto the road.

In the shadows of a weed-ridden parking lot at the back of the rundown motel, no one noticed them. Avoiding the glow of the full yellow moon, they stood behind the south wall beneath a broken security lamp.

A lamp Dare Macintosh had broken.

Ocean breezes stirred the air and heightened his senses. While scanning the area and repeatedly peering at the black van he’d rented when first arriving in San Diego, Dare waited. His friend, Trace Rivers, embraced his younger sister with choking emotion.

It had been a long two days filled with frantic preparation, little sleep, less food and loads of pumping adrenaline: the conditions in which Dare operated best.

With the job done, and then some, he desperately wanted something to eat and a place to sleep. Even more than that, he wanted to check on the skinny, abused woman still out cold in the backseat of the van.

“Tell me,” Trace said, not to Alani, whom he kept crushed close, but to Dare.

After again glancing at the van, Dare nodded. He’d found Alani and returned her to Trace as he’d sworn to, but neither man knew yet what she had suffered.

“She was in Tijuana, as you said. Locked in a trailer with some other women in an isolated area.”

“Heavily guarded?”

“Yes.”

Trace drew a strained breath, and uttered what they both had known: “Human traffickers.”

Dare nodded. “Not much in the way of food or drinks. Dirty, airless with the windows screwed shut. They had the women …” He hesitated, knowing how Trace would take it, but he needed to know. “They were leashed, chained to grommets in the floor, with just enough chain to reach a toilet. No sink.”

“Fuckers.” Overcome with rage, Trace knotted his hand in his sister’s hair and squeezed her tighter, protectively.

She didn’t complain.

Trace never used coarse language in front of his sister, which meant he was on the ragged edge, barely aware of what he said or did. Dare looked away from them, understanding the lack of control.

He focused on the rented van. “I had to go through several lookouts and a few armed guards to get her out of there.”

“Quietly.” Trace made it a statement, not a question.

“There wasn’t much fuss.” Dare always worked in efficient silence; an alarm would have brought more armed guards, possibly too many for him to combat. As much as he wanted to kill them all, he hadn’t.

Only those most responsible.

By the time the empty trailer was discovered, Dare was already heading over the border into San Diego—where Trace waited. Over the years he’d built up alliances everywhere, and sometimes worked with the coyotes who made a living taking people back and forth over the border.

Thanks to those contacts, even with the extra cargo slumped in his backseat, no one had stopped him as he went through the border checkpoint. The van had been given only a cursory inspection, his weapons ignored, and the excuse of the women being tired—never mind that one was beaten and haggard, only half-dressed—had satisfied all questions.

Both men were damn good at what they did. But Trace couldn’t go after his sister himself as he’d wanted, because the men holding her knew what he looked like. Before he’d have even gotten close to Tijuana, Trace would have been spotted by lookouts.

So Dare had gone—and come back with more than he’d bargained for.

Making a small sound, Alani tucked her face in closer to her brother’s shoulder. The siblings shared blond hair and light brown eyes, but that’s where the physical similarities ended. Trace was thirty, of an age with Dare, eight years older than his sister. He stood six foot three and weighed over two hundred pounds—all of it muscle.

Next to him, Alani looked tiny and fragile and, presently, wounded. Even since Dare had removed her from the trailer, fresh bruises continued to show on her arms and around her narrow wrists. Because the bastards had planned to sell her, they hadn’t harmed her face.

Innocence was a huge commodity, and at twenty-two, having led a sheltered life, Alani gave off a definite vibe of innocence. Blond-haired, blue-eyed women brought the most profit, but he had a feeling that Alani’s golden-brown eyes, in contrast to her very fair hair, would have fascinated the sick pricks.

Dare prayed they hadn’t raped her, knowing a woman ill-used would bring less, but he left that uncomfortable discussion for Trace.

Hearing a noise like a soft moan, Dare zeroed in on the van with his senses on alert. He’d left the rear door open so he’d hear her if she moved, if she awoke…. But she did no more than readjust.

Three hours had passed since he’d carried her out of that trailer. Worry gnawed at him.

Why didn’t she awaken?

“Dare?” His eyes filled with pain, rage and relief, Trace whispered, “Thank you.”

Alani gave an audible swallow, and then she, too, said, “Yes, thank you. So much.”

Putting a hand on her shoulder, Dare replied without words. He’d known Alani for years, watched her grow up, and felt like a pseudo big brother in many ways. He’d attended her graduation, both from high school and college. He’d been there with Alani and Trace when they buried their parents.

They had become part of his hodgepodge family.

Two days ago human traffickers had snatched Alani outside her hotel while she vacationed near the beach. Tomorrow she would have been sold, and finding her after that might have become impossible.

Right now, what the siblings needed was time alone, and Dare needed to sort things out with his remaining passenger. “I should get going.”

Trace followed Dare’s attention toward the van, saw the slim, dirty foot that appeared out of the open rear-passenger door, and lifted one eyebrow in an expression of disbelief. “You have a passenger?”

“A small complication, that’s all.”

“You’re serious?”

Dare shrugged. “There were six women in that small trailer, Trace. Four of them were local and scattered as soon as I got them free.” He nodded his head toward the van. “That one was drugged, near starved, grimy.” And in many ways, even in the cramped confines of the rusty trailer, she’d been separated from the others, kept alone.

For certain, she wasn’t the typical woman kidnapped for the growing sex trade.

Trace grew curious in that quiet way of his. “An American … complication?”

“I think so.” From what he’d seen of her grubby face, she didn’t look foreign. “She hasn’t come to yet, so I haven’t been able to talk to her.”

Alani turned in her brother’s arms, and she, too, looked toward the van. “She fought them whenever she came to. She called them names and almost … egged them on.” Alani shivered in remembered fear. “It was so horrible. The men slapped her around for being mouthy, but she didn’t stop. She just cursed them more.”

Dare frowned. The little idiot might have been killed. “Foolhardy.”

“I think she was really … angry.” As if she couldn’t fathom such boldness, Alani took a breath. “Even when they held her down to force more drugs on her, she didn’t cry. She … raged.”

“Did she speak English?”

Nodding, Alani said, “She sounded American to me. I mean, no accent or anything.”

Considering all that, Dare said aloud, “She wasn’t there for the same purpose as the rest of you.”

“Probably not. Sometimes four or five of them would come in the trailer, but they’d stand around her and I couldn’t see what they did. As far as I could tell, they never really leered at her like …” She bit her lip, shivered again. “Like they did the rest of us. They never seemed to be sizing her up for anything. They just picked on her.”

Trace hugged her again. “It’s all right. You’re safe now.”

She nodded, shored up by the courage her brother had given her, and faced Dare. “She was there when we got there, already looking pretty bad. Once, before the men drugged her, she told me her name was Molly.”

“Molly what?”

Alani shook her head. “We weren’t supposed to talk, so I was afraid to ask her anything.”

Trace tucked her back in close and asked over her head, “What are you going to do with her now?”

“No idea.” Dare thought of her insubstantial weight when she’d been over his shoulder, of that tangled, light brown hair that had concealed much of her bruised face. “Hopefully someone will pay me for bringing her home.”

Without releasing her brother, Alani reached out and punched Dare for the callous comment. He grinned, caught her wrist and kissed her knuckles.

She’d been given a terrible fright, and two days had probably felt like a month, but Alani had spirit. She’d get through this, thank God.

But the other one … How long had they had her? And why? Impatient with thoughts of her, Dare said, “I gotta run.”

“Hold up a sec.” Trace caught his arm, then dug in his jeans pocket and pulled out a fat envelope.

Pissed, Dare took a step back. “What the hell is that?”

“Expenses. And don’t curse in front of Alani.”

Hell, just because he usually hired out didn’t mean he’d charge a friend—a brother. He’d have gone after Alani if he’d had to crawl the whole way. “I don’t need it.”

Solemn, Trace held the envelope out to him. “But I need you to take it.”

It hit Dare anew how difficult this was for Trace, not just that his sister had been hurt, but that he hadn’t been able to go after her himself.

Dare took the envelope. “Thanks.” He leaned in close. “And for future reference, I resolved the issue of you being recognized.” There was no one left who knew Trace.

Deep satisfaction glittered in Trace’s eyes. He gave a sharp nod. “I should have doubled the amount.”

“No.” Dare’s smile wasn’t friendly. “That was all my pleasure.”

With no further discussion of money, Trace and Alani said their goodbyes and left the lot in Trace’s silver Jag. They’d stay in an upscale hotel for the night and fly home tomorrow. Until then, Trace would keep his sister under very close guard.

Dare stood there, watching them until the purr of the engine faded and their taillights could no longer be seen. Moon shadows surrounded him. Night creatures gave a gentle call.

The peaceful ambiance didn’t deceive him.

Hands on his hips, he looked again toward the van.

Now what?

The hospital, with all those questions and a lack of answers?

A hotel room? That would be his preference, but not with a woman on the brink of death.

If she was on the brink of death. Drugs could be a real complication, giving false symptoms and concealing a true state of health. It was possible that if she’d just come to, she’d be okay.

But maybe not.

Dare needed her to drink, to eat. And it wouldn’t hurt to get the bugs out of her hair.

Before he even realized it, he strode that way, anxious to look in on her again.

One hand on the top of the open door, the other on the side of the car, Dare leaned in—and found her awake. Enormous, bruised eyes dominated her face.

Before he could register that she’d come around, he got a very dirty foot to the face. Hard.

He jerked back. “Son of a—”

The attack took him by surprise, and even with her meager strength, a heel to the nose hurt like hell. But he didn’t want to compound things by overreacting. She’d recovered with a vengeance and most probably a lot of confusion. Though blood trickled from his nose, Dare wasn’t disabled in any way.

With no help for it, he leaned into the backseat and, after a very brief struggle, pinned her down with her arms over her head, her legs caught under his.

Those large, slightly unfocused eyes glared at him. They were dark brown, like rich chocolate, and at the moment filled with a wealth of fear and rage.

She didn’t scream, thank God, just breathed hard and fast and strained against him.

“You’re safe now,” Dare told her while trying to control her in a way that wouldn’t allow her to hurt herself. “You’re in San Diego, not Mexico.”

She blinked fast, giving away her nervousness.

Dare sought the right words to reassure her. “I was there to retrieve a friend, one of the girls trapped in the trailer with you. And there you were, too, so …” Lacking a sound business argument for his decision, Dare rolled one shoulder. “So I took you.”

She stilled a little, wary, uncertain. Hopeful.

“Your options now are the hospital, hotel or police. Take your pick.”

Seconds ticked by. A drop of blood from his nose landed on her chest to mingle with dark bruises, numerous scratches and dirt. She didn’t flinch, and short of releasing her, there wasn’t much Dare could do about his bleeding nose.

Lifting her head, she looked beyond him, but it was dark, too dark to see and recognize the dubious safety of an American parking lot.

Then, just as suddenly as she’d attacked, she went limp, her head falling back, her muscles weak. Either from her recent exertion or continued terror, Dare felt a fine trembling in her slim body.

Voice quaking, she whispered, “Hotel, please.”

Unexpected.

But appreciated. “Wise choice.” He waited for theatrics, for that scream that didn’t come. Cautious, Dare eyed her. “I can let you go without more violence?”

She gave one jerky nod.

Slowly, he sat up and levered himself out of the van. She didn’t move. She didn’t look capable of moving.

Stripping off his shirt, he used it to clean the blood from his busted nose.

What to do now? If he went to the front desk to register them, would she try to skip out on him? Dare could see that she wasn’t yet herself, didn’t have much left of strength or composure. If panic sent her running, she wouldn’t get far, and could end up right back in trouble again.

But he couldn’t very well traipse her into the motel with him.

For one thing … she reeked.

Not that he held that against her. Thanks to the conditions he’d found her in, personal cleanliness would have been impossible. But to add to that, the space they’d provided her hadn’t been much better than a dump. He’d seen rat holes near the moldy mattress they’d supplied her, as well as a variety of bugs crawling around.

For another, she wore only a long T-shirt that didn’t quite reach her very dirty, scuffed knees, with another oversized man’s button-up shirt over it. The clothes dwarfed her small body, looking absurd. Mud and more caked her bare feet. Her brown hair looked like it had been through a blender.