“Absolutely,” said Lila. “She terrifies me. Right, Sean?”

“Shit.” Sean wiped a hand over his face. He gave the dark-haired Lila a similar pained expression to the one Nick kept gifting Ros. Not bad, but Nick’s was cuter. Lila raised her eyebrows and the Viking groaned in defeat. “Never been so scared in my life. She’s so small and … wounded.”

Lila beamed at him and the big man smiled back reluctantly, the love he had for the woman clear on his face.

“Please, Finn,” said Ali, her eyes full of warmth and good humor. “Save us. You’re our last hope.”

“Fucking ridiculous.” Finn pulled a key a set of keys out of his pocket and shoved one into the lock. The door swung open and he stepped back. “Roslyn, if you change your mind just call out, okay?”

“Thank you.”

“Yay!” quietly cheered Ali.

“That’s enough out of you.” The sheriff gave the pregnant woman a long look. “We’re going to talk about this later.”

“I am at your disposal, my love,” Ali answered with a smile.

Roslyn stepped inside the jail cell. There really was a first time for everything. If she’d been feeling half-alive she might have strutted. Thrown in a little Elvis ‘Jailhouse Rock’ hip swivel, maybe just for fun. As it was, dragging her sorry carcass to the bed was about the most she could manage. Her legs were all wibbly-wobbly. Nick stood with his arms folded across his broad chest, doing his best to intimidate her or something. Yeah, right. She wished him all the best with that.

“Lucky I happen to like that scowly face on you,” she said. “Move over.”

He did so and she carefully lay down on the wide single bed. Oh yes indeed, that felt good. The cot was actually more comfortable than it looked. Life on the inside wasn’t so bad. Someone had even done some etchings on the wall beside her. They most closely resembled a man fornicating with a woman whose br**sts were wildly oversized. The poor stick figure couldn’t hope to support such watermelon boobies, let alone handle the size of the guy’s equipment. The artist had been a real overachiever.

Lila shoved the pillows and blanket at Nick. “Get some food into her. Keep her comfortable. Send for me if she needs anything. Otherwise, I’ll be back later with her meds.”

The cell door clanged shut and Finn locked it. She was officially incarcerated. Huh. The places life could take you.

“Ah, life on the inside,” she said. “How did the theme from Prisoner go again?”

“This isn’t funny.” Nick knelt down beside her, dumping the linens on the floor. “What are you doing?”

“Spending time with my beau,” she said. “You?”

He breathed out a heavy sigh, poor boy. “I’m no good for you, Ros.”

“You’re awful cute when you trying to be self-sacrificing, Nicky. Less so when you’ve blurting out our personal affairs, but still.”

“I’m being serious.”

“Yes, so I see. I think you better hop down off the cross, honey. Someone else might need the wood.” She stroked his cheek with her good hand, teased the bristle of his beard. The hair on his jaw was a darker shade of brown than his head. He had the hottest mouth. The things that mouth could do. Hmm. Happy thoughts flooded her and her body came sluggishly awake, despite the pain meds and the ache in her shoulder. “What am I going to do with you?”

Nick wrapped his hand around her wrist, his thumb stroking over her pulse point. “You’re going to let me go. You’re safer away from me.”

“Perhaps. But I doubt it. I know for certain I wouldn’t be happier. Funnily enough, these days, that really matters to me.”

He said nothing.

“Nick,” she sighed. “It will never belong in a Hallmark card, but I drove a car into a house and killed a man for you. You chained me up for days and I still wanted to come back and talk over our darkly sordid, slightly kinky, and a lot warped relationship. Face it, you’re stuck with me.”

His brows drew tight. “You’re high as a kite right now, aren’t you?”

“Maybe.” She grinned. Actually, she felt pretty f**king fantastic now that she’d gotten her way. “Did you miss me? Admit it, you did, didn’t you.”

He gave her his exasperated face. The edges of his lips tucked down, brows drew in. Her poor, pretty boy. She couldn’t help but wonder if he’d take his shirt off for her if she asked. What an awesome idea. Maybe after she’d had a nap. Yeah, she’d be sure to ask him then.

“638,” she said.

“What?”

“638. You’re my honey. That’s where I’d shelve you.” Her eyelids drifted closed. “You won’t go anywhere, will you?”

“I can’t. We’re both in jail. You just saw to that.”

“Excellent,” she mumbled, settling back into the mattress. So damn tired, she could have slept for a year. “Good job.”

“Get some rest, sweetheart.” He pressed his lips to the palm of her hand. “I have a feeling you’re going to need it.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

Nick sat idle as Roslyn slept. He’d been staring at her, staring at the wall, feeling like shit. Getting her out had to be his first priority. But until she started working with him he didn’t like his chances. The woman could be bloody stubborn.

“You really care about her,” said ex-captain Sean, sounding mildly surprised.