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No one had counted to three for her to obey them in, well, ever. That tingle in her tummy migrated south, settling in her lady bits. After one more fierce scowl of protest, she did as she was told.

He’d said to shoot at any movement. Maybe she could keep her eyes closed. If she didn’t see anything, she wouldn’t have to shoot. That seemed like a bad idea because, if someone wasthere, they might shoot her. What the heck was she going to do if she saw anyone move? She couldn’t shoot a person.

She was no rich debutante worried about breaking a nail or anything. But kill someone? She couldn’t do that. Didn’t he know if you killed someone, they stayed dead like forever?

Anyway, she didn’t have a good track record when it came to aiming. As a teenager, she’d hit a friend with a bowling ball at a birthday party. She’d meant to hit the pins, but she’d let go of the ball at the wrong time and almost prevented Phillip Ingram from ever fathering children. So, no, she wouldn’t be shooting at anyone today.

Boone peeled adhesive covers she hadn’t noticed off both clay blocks and stuck them on opposite sides of the doorframe. As he worked, he shouted, “How do I know you won’t kill us both?”

“Because if I wanted to kill you, you’d already be dead. As for the girl, she’s more valuable to me alive. She’ll make me a fortune at the next auction.”

Boone muttered some impolite words she wholeheartedly agreed with. There was no doubt Midnightmeant what he said, but if he hoped to get a rise out of Boone, he had wasted his breath. Boone’s jaw tightened, but that was all. His attention was focused on his task. Mr. Midnight wouldn’t be able to bait Boone into doing something stupid. Even she knew Boone was too smart for that. He was the whole package; brains, body, and brawn.

More importantly, he was also kind and protective—everything a girl could want, especially a Little girl. Not that he would care what she thought, but that didn’t matter as long as he helped her escape.

Still, he was deliciously distracting. How was she supposed to focus on movement outside the window when the muscles in his arms and back were rippling like that?

“We both know that’s not true,” Boone called back to Midnight. “The whole reason I’m here is because you tried to kill me. Only, your men were such shit at marksmanship they missed me and hit a woman on my team instead.”

“Just a woman on your team? I don’t think so. All my men are excellent at their jobs, whether digging up the dirt on someone or taking some out. Cara Bradshaw was far from just any woman to you. You loved her. I think they have regulations against that kind of fraternization. She must have been special to risk both your careers. But maybe I’m wrong. Maybe she was just some slut you wanted to fuck.”

Tildi gasped. The Boss of the Midnight family had tried to kill Boone and accidentally killed someone he cared about. The need to comfort him swept through her. It was all she could do to stay at the window instead of running to him and wrapping him in a warm hug.

But once again, Boone didn’t take the bait. “That’s your thing, Midnight, not mine. This isn’t going to end as well for you as you seem to think. So why don’tyoucooperate? Drop your guns and wait in the hallway for me to come out and put a bullet in your brain.”

Midnight laughed. “Another time, perhaps. I warned you to stay out of my business. You didn’t listen. Taking you out wouldn’t have been nearly as much fun as watching you howl like a wounded dog when we took out your woman. You should have listened to me.”

Boone knelt to get something else from his pack rather than focusing on what Midnight said. When the words sank in, Boone froze. “What the hell does that mean?” he shouted at the door.

Midnight laughed but it was so sinister Tildi shivered. “You cost me a lot of money, Boone. Not to mention wasting my time. But the thing I couldn’t forgive was your costing me my standing in the family. My reputation is everything, and you tried to ruinit. You know how this works. You took something from me. So, I took someone from you.”

Boone flinched as if he’d been shot. His gaze flew across the room, landing on Tildi. So many reactions played across his face she could barely catch them all. One thing was clear. Midnight’s words hit their mark.

The term ramrod straight hadn’t meant much to her until that moment. It was like an electric current had seized every muscle in his body, and the pain in his eyes was just that intense she could feel it all the way across the room. The haunting memories played out before her in his eyes. She didn’t know what had happened, but the pain he carried broke her heart.

But it didn’t stop with pain. So many emotions warred in his eyes. Rage, horror, vengeance, but still, the pain reigned supreme. He must have cared deeply for those under his command, especially the woman. Guilt painted her in broad strokes at the jealousy gripping her. But she’d give anything to have someone care about her the way Boone cared about this Cara person, whoever she was. They must have been really close.

That he was in this kind of pain hurt her soul. She had no idea what to do, but she just couldn’t just stand there and watch his emotions bleed onto the floor. Leaving the gun at the window, she inched across the room and knelt beside him. That didn’t seem enough, so she lifted a trembling hand to touch him. Before she reached him, he froze her in place with a glower.

“What are you doing, little girl? Get back to the window,” he said, his voice no more than a tormented growl.

She jerked away so hard she fell backward onto her butt. Scalding humiliation stole her breath. Of course, he wouldn’t want her to touch him. She wasn’t this woman he’d lost. What had she been thinking?

Besides, she’d been a prisoner of the Cosa Nostra for over a year. Everyone knew what that meant. She was dirty now,tainted. No decent person, and certainly not a man like Boone, would want her touching them. He closed his eyes, unable to even stand the sight of her.

“I’m sorry,” she managed to say before jumping to her feet and racing back to the window. Lifting the gun, she blinked furiously to beat back the tears threatening to escape. Scanning the area outside, she pretended she could see.

She sensed his rise and movement to stand behind her. She sensed because she darn sure wasn’t going to look at him.

He’d told her to watch for movement, and that was what she was going to do. She would take out a blade of grass if it so much as ruffled. Hopefully, she wouldn’t shoot a bird out of a tree when she tried.

A gentle hand gripped her arm as he tugged her around to face him. “Hey,” he said. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have spoken like that. You haven’t done anything wrong.”

She nodded her head but still didn’t look at him. Why was he being nice to her? Did he pity her? Of course he did. Just look at her.

He could save his efforts. She didn’t need his pity, just his help to get out of this place. And she darn sure didn’t need him to pretend to care about her. He hadn’t said or done anything she hadn’t heard before.

Be good, be quiet, stay out of the way. That was what she’d heard all her life, so she could take it. What she couldn’t take, couldn’t understand, was him being nice to her. That was a surefire way to bring on the waterworks.