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Covering a laugh with a cough, I do as he says. Mick Weston is confounding. Any other man would have been all over me by now.

So, why isn’t he?

I chew my lip to stave off a nervous giggle. “FYI, your eyes do need to be on myperson.”

His hands leave my shoulders and run the length of my spine. “Had a lot of experience with clothed body searches, have you?”

At the humor in his voice, I smile. “Enough to know you’ve missed a few areas I could be hiding something.”

He grunts a response. “Yeah, well… we usually have a female deal with… female persons.”

Oh. I see. He’s still trying to be professional. Nowthat’sgot to be a first.

Without thinking, I turn around, catching him off guard. “Then allow me.”

I flatten both my hands over my chest and pat down every part he’s avoided. “Voilà.”

His eyes meet mine, and his chest rises and falls too fast. There’s a hint of color in his cheeks, and his voice lacks the hard edge that was present beforehand. “Thanks.”

I respond far too breathily for someone facing her enemy. “Don’t mention it.”

“Right… I should…” His eyes slide to the bathroom. “I just need to remove anything sharp from the bathroom.”

Panic ignites in me at the caution stamped on his face, which I immediately tamp down. He’s hardly going to consider a sewing kit a lethal weapon. “Go right ahead.”

His brow crinkles, and he slowly shakes his head at me before turning on his heel and stalking into the bathroom.

Mick

To avoid having to body search her again, I check the bathroom thoroughly and place anything even remotely resembling a weapon into the trash. That means the disposable razor and the nail clippers. My eyes linger on the sewing kit. It’s sure to contain needles, but I doubt she’s able to do much harm with that.

Unless I get close to her, which isnotgoing to happen.

I grab the trash can and exit the bathroom, leaving the door open so enough light spills into the room to see but leaves it dark enough so we can sleep.

My phone vibrates as I enter the bedroom again.

Knock, knock.

Silas.

Samantha eyes me from where she’s lying propped up in bed, covers pulled up to her neck. “Where are you going?”

“Delivery,” I say.

Her eyebrow arches. “At this time of night?”

I lift a shoulder lazily. “It’s a special delivery.”

Not waiting for what is sure to be a sarcastic reply, I hurry to the front door, drop the trash, and pull out my gun. Cautiously, I open the front door, scan the street, and find nothing of interest, except for a Bible and Samantha’s phone.

Unless there’s something hidden inside it, the Bible is a head scratcher, but I reach down and scoop it up, leaving the trash in its place. As I straighten, a note falls out from behind her phone.

Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners.

“Subtle,” I mumble.

But as much as it burns, it’s the truth. Samantha’s already called me on it, so it’s a truth I need to face up to now I’m stuck here with her for the next few days.