Page 19 of If You Dare

“I asked if you wanted to go back to bed.” The side of his mouth lifted as he tipped his head toward the living room. “With me.”

He seemed content to ignore whatever they’d heard. Good. She could work with that. “Well, since you won’t leave, I don’t have much of a choice.”

His grin could have lit up the room. She’d already told him she was glad he was here, and there was no taking that back.

“Admit it, Lil. You can’t get enough of me.” He followed her to the living room.

“You can’t get enough of yourself,” she threw over her shoulder, proud of the jab. She took her place on the mattress. He set the lantern aside and then arranged his wide frame next to her. His gaze went to the boards covering the windows in the living room.

“There are a lot of old trees on the property. The wind probably caught a rotted limb and brought it down.” He rested his elbow on one bent knee. “We’re lucky it didn’t come through the roof and land on us.”

The sound they’d heard had been as clear as Marcus’s voice now. There was no way they could have mistaken breaking glass for a falling limb. She knew it. He knew it. And she could tell that he knew she knew it.

But she said, “Very lucky,” instead of arguing.

Back at base camp, the sound a memory, it was easier to believe a story about felled tree branches. Denial was a powerful, powerful tool, and she had no problem using it to her advantage.

There was one thing she couldn’t deny, however—his insistence on returning to the air mattress to wait out the night with her. He was practically handing over what she had come here to win. Why not talk her into leaving? Why not create a panic and insist they leave the house “for her own good”? Why would he stay with her when he had the most to lose?

Unless… No. Could it be?

“Marcus Black,” she said. “I had no idea.”

“What’s that?”

“You’re a nice guy.”

His brow scrunched with contention. “What? No, I’m not.”

“You put yourself in potential danger to protect me.”

“What danger? I walked into the kitchen to check on a noise.”

“That was very brave. A guy with an ax wearing a mask was lurking around here earlier, you know.”

He bit his cheek but she could tell he was trying not to laugh. “Touché.”

She shook her head. Maybe he wasn’t that heroic. Yet she was attracted to him. Which could only mean one thing: Marcus didn’t emit pheromones like normal men. His were like a hallucinogenic drug.

The heater next to them chugged, whined, and died.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” She hit the top. Hit the side. Switched the dial up then down.

“What’s your tactic? Bang on it until it’s operational again?”

“It works for the vending machine in the break room.”

He inspected the heater in the lantern’s light. “This isn’t a glass box withholding your Mallomars.”

Then the Coleman winked out, plunging the room into darkness.

“I just bought that!” She flipped open the cover on her iPad. It died next. Just went dark, when she knew for a fact that she had eighty-seven percent battery left.

“What the hell?” She pressed the power button, but nothing happened.

With the heater silent and the lantern off, the only sound in the room was the wind pushing against the boarded windows.

“Marcus?” She sounded scared. She didn’t care. She was scared, and tired of pretending like she had everything under control. Here in the house, and outside of it. Being a one-woman army was hard work.