Page 13 of If I Stopped Haunting You

“Where are you going?” she called loudly, tripping after him.

“Shhhh,” he hissed, rushing toward her and clamping a hand over her mouth. He froze, lips parting in surprise as he stared down at her. At large gray eyes above his hand, at the feel of his palm against her smooth skin. He shook his head and pulled his hand free. “Jesus, Skinner, we’re not supposed to be in here.”

Right then, a deep Scottish voice bellowed, “Yer no supposed to be there!” Neil shot her a look as if to sayI told you so.

Skinner’s eyes widened. “Where’s Daniela and Laszlo?”

He shook his head and straightened. Clenching his teeth, he clasped her hand and pulled her after him in the opposite direction of the tear in the fence.

“No clue.”

She wanted to protest, he could feel it in the way she foughthis touch, but finally, she followed, quickening her short stride to match his.

He had no way of knowing if they’d get in trouble for wandering in some old ruins. From the looks of the place, Neil could only assume they didn’t want people meandering around here for safety reasons. With the floors caving in and the earth so soft around the stone, it was no wonder.

“How are we supposed to get out?” Skinner panted as they stopped beside a strip of the fence. Her glasses fogged up, beads of sweat trickling down her forehead from running. More hair had come loose from her braid, dark wisps floating around her face and clinging to the sweat.

Damn her, she was distracting him. He motioned to the fence before them.

“Climb.”

They stared down at their clasped hands before she slipped hers free, wiping her palm on her pants before grabbing hold of the fence and trying to haul herself up. Neil snorted and moved to climb after her. She slipped, almost kicking him in the face, and he yanked back just in time, Skinner nearly falling from the sudden movement. Neil tried not to laugh, his face heating as he pressed a fist to his lips. Grunting, she struggled to pull herself up, but she only looked like a beached dolphin, flapping over the top of the metal fence.

“Use your upper body strength!” he said, voice cracking with humor.

“I don’t have any,” she admitted, locked in place. Her face was beet red, her glasses tipping dangerously down her nose as she floundered.

“I apologize in advance,” he warned as he stepped up to the fence. Neil had no choice but to shove Skinner’s butt up and over. “Just throw your leg over,” he instructed, using a shoulder and ahand to push. It felt strange, touching her again. Not wrong, just… strange. In a million years, he never could have imagined this scenario.

“I can’t,” she gasped.

Squeezing his eyes shut, Neil used the last of his strength to shove, one hand gripping her inner thigh, the touch eliciting a strange sound from her throat before she fell over and landed in a bush with a squeak. Neil decided it was best not to interpret the sound. Muscles aching, he pulled himself up and over with ease, landing beside her. He straightened his clothes, untangling twigs from his hair. He glared down at her as she stood, brushing off her pants.

“Thanks a lot.” Her tone was a double-edged blade.

“She can be thankful,” he said a little too cheerfully. He was trying so hard not to think of the way his fingers had skimmed her inner thigh, but his eyes betrayed him.

Skinner was curvy. Neil had never noticed before. She generally dressed in loose sweaters and skirts and dresses, comfortable fabric that did nothing to accentuate… well, anything, but her tight jeans were hugging curves he didn’t know she had. Before he knew it, his eyes raked down her, skating across freckles, down to a full chest and fuller thighs. Neil straightened, meeting stormy gray eyes.

“What?” she snapped, cheeks reddening.

“Nothing.”

His hand flexed, fingers straining to touch her again.

She rolled her eyes and brushed off her jacket angrily. And like that, the sight of her frustration pulled Neil back to the surface. Suddenly, everything was right in the world: Skinner with her condescending tone, and Neil with his annoyance rolling off in waves.

Skinner’s cheeks were flushed, her eyes anywhere but on him. “What now?” she asked, craning her neck to peer down the way. She pushed her glasses up and tugged a branch from her braid.

“Where are ye?” the man called out, closer now.

Neil looked to Skinner. Right when he thought he’d avoided trouble, he found himself back in the thick of it. Would she hate him after this? What was he thinking—she already hated him. He might as well throw more fuel on the fire.

“Just trust me,” he said, one hand going to her waist.

“What are you doing?” she asked, eyes wide as she backed up. If looks could kill.

“I’m not going to eat you.”