Home > Tall, Silent & Lethal (Pyte/Sentinel #4)(22)

Tall, Silent & Lethal (Pyte/Sentinel #4)(22)
Author: R.L. Mathewson

Her words ran through his head as he remembered that she hadn't taken exception to his presence, other than annoyance, until he’d crowded her against the paint samples, which he’d done because she’d been driving him crazy at the time and he kind of enjoyed pissing her off.

“Oh,” he said, feeling like an ass.

“Yeah, 'Oh',” she snapped back. “If you hadn't gone off pouting and had stuck around to help me, I wouldn't have been locked up in that shed all night,” she bit out, making him wince.

Shit.

“So......,” he trailed off not exactly sure how to broach the subject, “I don't disgust you?” he asked, immediately wishing that he hadn't.

“The only thing that disgusts me about you is the food you try to serve Marta,” she said, shooting a nervous look at the door and damn near jumped to the ceiling when it was suddenly thrown open.

Marta stormed into the room, shooting him a narrowed eye glare that instantly disappeared when she spotted Cloe.

“Are you alright, dear?” she asked Cloe, walking as quickly as her cane would allow her over to the young woman who was still shivering as she held herself tightly.

Cloe forced a reassuring smile for Marta. “I'm fine. Just a little cold. I was stuck in the shed all day,” she explained and he couldn't help but notice that she hadn’t blamed him, but apparently that wasn't going to stop Marta from placing the blame squarely at his feet.

“This would not have happened if you had helped her,” she said accusingly as she took a step towards him, her hand noticeably tightening around the top of her cane.

“Marta,” he warned tightly. He was done with all the bullshit.

“You should have been helping her today instead of sulking!” Marta snapped, further testing his patience. He was not about to stand there and allow his younger sister to yell at him like he was an errant child.

“I'm so upset with you, Christofer!”

“Marta, it's not his fault,” Cloe said, coming to his defense and further shocking him, but Marta wasn’t done.

“You should have-”

“Marta, go to bed!” he snapped, having had more than enough for one night.

She drew up rigid, glaring at him. When she opened her mouth, probably to promise to whack him with her cane if he didn't behave, he added, “Now.”

After a moment of glowering at him, she nodded slightly. “Fine. As long as Cloe is okay.”

“I'm fine, Marta. I'm sorry that I worried you.”

“There's nothing to apologize for,” Marta said, giving him a look that he knew all too well. There would be hell to pay in the morning and God help him, but he would probably just suck it up and take it as long as it meant that Marta got it out of her system. He didn't like to see her upset. Every time she was stressed, her heart worked overtime, scaring the hell out of him. So for her, he would take it, but not in front of Cloe.

Not again.

“Good night, Marta,” he said, not at all surprised when she acted as though she hadn't heard him.

“You didn't need to yell at her. She was only worried,” Cloe said, rubbing her hands up and down her arms, trying to create friction to help warm herself.

“Don't worry about Marta,” he said, gesturing for her to leave the kitchen. “She's fine, just angry. I assure you that she will not hesitate in telling me just how furious she is in the morning,” he said dryly.

Cloe's lips twitched, the first sign of humor since he'd found her. He hated to admit that it calmed something inside of him. Seeing her upset and vulnerable made him feel helpless, a feeling he detested. “She does seem to enjoy doing that,” she said just as a violent shiver tore through her body, making her cringe into herself.

“Let's get you warm,” he said softly as he pushed the guilt away that was threatening to take over. He watched her nod stiffly as she walked past him on shaky legs.

None of this would have happened if it weren't for him. Instead of feeling sorry for himself he should have owned up to his responsibilities, not left them to this young woman. As he followed Cloe up the stairs a sense of shame surrounded him when he realized that he'd once again failed to keep the promise that he’d made to his father.

Chapter 10

“Get in the tub, Cloe,” Christofer said, sighing heavily as he pinched the bridge of his nose as if she were the one acting insane.

She tightened her grip on her towel as she stubbornly shook her head. “Thank you, but no thank you, Christofer. I can handle taking a shower by myself,” she said through chattering teeth, wishing he would get out of her bathroom so that she could stand under the hot water without an audience.

“I'm not leaving, Cloe,” he told her, leaning back against the doorframe. When he'd first followed her inside the bedroom and opened the bathroom door for her, she'd been relieved. Right now she couldn't deal with any enclosed spaces and he seemed to understand that.

That didn't mean that she appreciated the little alpha male routine he was pulling on her at the moment. She was more than capable of taking care of herself. She'd been doing it for more than thirteen years and one night of hell was not going to change that.

“I'm not getting in that shower with you standing there,” she bit out through clenched teeth when he didn't make any move to leave after a few minutes. She was freezing her ass off and so damn tired, but she knew that she wouldn't be able to sleep tonight. Hell, she'd be lucky if she could sleep in a few days when exhaustion finally took over.

“Fine,” he said, shrugging as he pushed away from the doorway.

She nearly sighed with relief. That is until he said, “You're leaving me with no choice but to drag you in there.” As he spoke, he pulled off his sweatshirt and tossed it aside, revealing a simple gray tee shirt that molded to his perfectly sculptured chest and abs, leaving Cloe momentarily stunned.

That is until he pulled the tee shirt off and tossed it to the side as well.

Living near the beach for the past few years, she'd seen some very drool worthy bodies, but none of them, and she meant none of them, had anything on Christofer. Every muscle was perfectly defined and tanned. Even the light dusting of dark hair on his chest and trailing down his stomach didn't mar the perfection. If anything it added to it. Thankfully he dragged her out of her thoughts before she did something stupid like drool.

“Let's go,” he said, picking her up before she realized what he was doing.

“Hey! Put me down!” she snapped just as a violent tremor tore through her body. God, she was so damned cold.

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