More silence follows. It’s tense and churning, in a strange sort of way. Like multiple emotions are fighting for dominance and there’s no telling which one will win. I sense so much in her—fear, hope, curiosity, and beneath it all, that self-destructive attraction to danger that brought her into my world in the first place.
“Are you worried for me, Kinsley Whitlow?”
There’s no mistaking the blush that creeps up her cheeks. She’s too close to be able to get away with hiding it from me.
“I’m worried for Isla,” she demurs. “I don’t want her to have to lose her father just when she’s found him.”
“What a reasonable explanation,” I muse. “So why don’t I believe you?”
“Probably because you have a very big ego.” She thrashes until she frees herself from my weight, but when she rolls over, she
