Page 34 of Protected By the Sinner

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Amber—”

“You know what? We don’t have to do this. I don’t have to stay in your fancy apartment, Mr. LeBlanc. I just want—” She stops, like she’s only just realized she snapped and threw her whole ice-queen act out the window.

“Just want what?”

She turns her back to me and walks to the window. “This was a mistake. I don’t trust you, and you don’t trust me. What are we even doing here? Go find another woman for sex.”

She grabs one of the suitcases and locks it with a small green padlock. The other one’s already packed, probably because she was waiting for me to fetch her.

Somehow, seeing how easily she’s ready to walk away bothers me, because I know it’s not the first time she’s done this.

“It’s nothing personal. I don’t trust anyone,” I say.

“Me neither. And I’m not asking you to trust me. You said we’d spend some time together. I agreed. We don’t even have to be friends for that. A few normal days would be enough for me.”

Does she even realize what she just said?

“What wouldnormal dayslook like in your world, Amber?”

She shakes her head. “I don’t want to talk about me anymore.”

“Who were those men?”

“I don’t know.” She crosses her arms over her chest. “Look, I liked what we had going, but I really can’t stay. I’ve been here less than twenty-four hours and we’re already arguing. This is ridiculous.”

“We’re not having a lovers’ quarrel, if that’s what you’re implying.”

“Exactly, because we’re not a couple,” she adds.

“Quiet. Don’t interrupt me. This wasn’t a damn relationship fight; it’s because you could be dead right now. Do you realize that?”

She flinches again but still won’t back down. “I get it. But I know how to take care of myself. I just wanted to ask if you could drive me back to Richardson or any small nearby town.”

“No. Once you leave, you’re on your own.”

She doesn’t hesitate. “Fine.” She heads toward the suitcases.

“You know there’s a good chance the same men who were chasing you might catch up to you again?”

“I know. But if I stay, you’ll try to make me talk about my past. I’d rather leave than lie.”

“You’d lie?”

“Yes. About everything.”

“I can find out on my own.”

“Go ahead andtry,” she challenges.

“Why don’t you want to talk about your past?”

“Mainly because it’s irrelevant. But mostly because I’ve known you for all of two minutes and just like you don’t trust me, I don’t trust you, Beau LeBlanc.”

Jesus Christ. If a man said something like that to me, he’d be dead by now.

“I don’t forgive betrayal, Amber.”