Fated
He wrapped an arm around her waist, holding her close as they walked, trying to keep her warm. "You don't remember?"
She shook her head, frowning slightly. "I remember falling and cracking my head on something, then nothing."
"You must have hit your head when we fell. We'll head back to the room and—" "No," she said, stopping abruptly. "We've got to get Patrick out of here." "Shirley," he said, as patiently as he could. "You're wet, and shaking and—"
"I said no, and I meant it." She glared up him, fists clenched and eyes sparkling with anger. She'd never looked more beautiful. "We may not get another chance at this."
He rubbed a hand across his eyes. What she said made perfectly good sense, but he just wasn't willing to risk her life again.
"It's my life to risk, Ethan."
She was back to reading his thoughts. As he'd feared, the barriers he'd raised to stop her were beginning to fade.