Page 15 of Noel Secrets

The twins woke with sharp cries, the high, frightened sound of children jarred awake.

“Jayda!” one of them screamed.

The man’s face was too close. His breath slid through the crack. She shoved harder, fear surging hot in her veins.

Then a violent bang. The door snapped inward, slammed shut, and he was gone.

The twins sobbed in their bunks, little fists clutching blankets. Jayda’s hands shook on the lock, her pulse pounding so loud it drowned the storm outside.

Another knock—this one harder, insistent.

“Jayda, open up!” Michael’s voice.

“Now!” Simon chimed in, urgent and sharp.

Her fingers fumbled with the lock. She yanked the door open to have Michael burst into the cabin just as the train screamed on its brakes. The grinding halt pitched Jayda sideways, and she flew straight into Michael’s arms.

Jayda trembled in his arms, her body soft against his, fragile even, and yet there was a current of defiance running through her that practically vibrated in his chest. She still held him back from knowing the truth.

Since spotting those men at the platform, he had this gut-deep certainty that Jayda wasn’t safe. And now, that idea had just materialized into reality. He’d been right. She was in trouble. And now, having her in his arms, the last thing he wanted was to release her.

But she stiffened, pushing at his chest. “Let me go, Michael,” she demanded, her voice low, sharp, as though she was trying to wrestle control back from whatever had just happened.

He hesitated. For a second too long.

“Jayda—”

“Now.”

The steel in her eyes made his hands unclasp reluctantly. He forced himself to step away as far as the cabin would allow.

Simon, ever the helpful boy scout, crouched near the twins, whispering something soothing that made the boys’ sobs taper down into little hiccups. Michael’s jaw clenched. He should be the one steadying the kids, not Simon playing hero.

Jayda adjusted her sweatshirt, her gaze flitting away from Michael’s. “It was just…someone who had the wrong room. That’s all.”

Michael’s brows drew together. “You didn’t know him?”

“No.” Her answer was swift, clipped. “I’ve never seen him before.”

But she wasn’t looking at him when she said it.

Michael studied her, seeing more in what she didn’t say than what she did. She was being careful with her words. This wasn’t one of the men who’d chased her to the train—whoever they were. This was someone else. A new threat. Which meant things were escalating.

“What about?—”

“I said I’ve never seen him. I meant what I said.”

She wanted him to drop it. But how could he?

“Were you hurt?”

Jayda folded her arms. “No. Don’t worry about me. I don’t need your help. I’m fine.”

His teeth ground together. That wasn’t true. She was still shaking.

“At least give me a description,” he pressed, sliding into reporter mode because that was the only way he knew to disarm her defenses. “Height? Build? What was he wearing?”

She huffed out an impatient sigh. “It was dark. A hat, maybe? I don’t know. It’s nothing to worry about.”