Neither of them moved for a long time. She leaned against him. His arms remained locked around her. Finally she pushed at his chest, his arms loosened, and she straightened. When she met his gaze, she felt taken aback. He looked almost as if he hated her.

“What’s my phone number?”

After their exchanges, the number was etched indelibly in her mind. She recited it.

“Fine. I’ll be here sometime after work tomorrow. I don’t know when.” He stood. “Don’t call unless it’s an emergency.”

Anger stirred. It had taken him a while, but the bastard Josiah had finally put in an appearance. “You think I’m going to call to discuss the stock market or the weather?” she snapped. “Thanks for the healing spells, but don’t fucking patronize me.”

“Right.” A muscle bunched in his jaw. He walked out.

She stayed where she was. A moment later, the back door opened and shut, and the big house resettled around his absence.

The air felt strange and cold, and the basement had turned creepy again, but she could take a deep breath without pain. Pushing to her feet, she walked into the bathroom to inspect her reflection and torso.

She touched her cheekbone. It had not been twenty-four hours since Austin’s attack, but the swelling had completely disappeared, and what remained of the bruises looked a good two weeks old. She could now hide the rest under makeup and pass for normal.

Damn it. She wanted to call Josiah.

Just to mess with him, she told herself. She would die before she admitted she wanted him to turn around and come back. Her skin still remembered the pressure from how he had held her.

She unboxed the phone and plugged it in so it could charge, just in case an emergency did arise. Then she brushed her teeth, crawled into bed, and slept like the dead for eighteen hours.

*     *     *

After the energy in their last spat, Josiah knew the safe house would have to be burning down around Molly’s ears before she dialed his number. Then he thought of the fiery outrage burning in her gaze.

Scratch that. She’d probably let the house burn.

Just as well. He needed a serious break from that woman. In fact, it would do him good to go a month without thinking about her. Then he might be able to yank himself back on track and stay there.

If only he could tear out the traitorous part of his brain that would not stop focusing on how beautiful she looked no matter how wrecked she was or how badly she was dressed.