Winter's Scars: The Forsaken (Winter's Saga #5)

Playing along, Meg leaned into the hallway and looked both ways to see who was around before quietly closing the door and walking back to the bed where she was supposed to be putting on the black thigh-high stockings.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, Meg curled one leg up and began to slowly position the legging at her pink toes.

“While he’s playing the piano, he’s not watching the monitors. They’re in different rooms,” he offered, but stayed ducked behind the chair.

Meg let her long hair fall around her face to hide her eyes as she turned to get a better look at the soldier who had been her protector over the past fourteen weeks, but had become almost a friend during the last twenty-four hours.

“What happened to you, Gideon?”

“I was punished,” he answered simply. His voice turned gruff and quiet, but Meg could sense immediately he was telling the truth.

“By whom? For what?” She felt a twinge of protectiveness for the man who had been her captor.

“Never mind me,” he said dismissively. “Are you okay? Did he do anything to you last night?”

“I think I’m okay. I don’t remember going to sleep and my shoes were taken off when I woke, but…”

“I did that.”

“You?”

“I came to check on you and you were asleep at the foot of the bed, completely dressed. I put you to bed.”

“Thank you,” Meg managed though her face was tight with the heat of a blush.

“I need to ask you something before you meet the Senator.” He paused as though waiting for her permission to continue.

“What?”

“Why did you trust me?”

“What?”

“You know I was the one who captured you back in Tucumcari. Why would you leave the chateau with me? You could have bolted at the airport pretty easily. You had chances to get away, but you didn’t. Why did you trust me?”

“I’m an empath, remember?”

“And?”

“And I can feel your sincerity, Gideon.”

“But I brought you back to the man who has hurt you and your family.”

“It’s the only way,” Meg sighed deeply, trying to discreetly finish pulling up her thigh-high stocking.

“What does that mean?”

“This time you’re going to have to trust me,” she risked looking over at the honey, yellow eyes of the metamonarch crouched in a corner.

“He’s going to ask you a lot of questions,” Gideon warned.

“So am I,” Meg growled, angry with the thoughts that jumped into the fore of her mind.

“Meg, you need to know he’s got some—I don’t know what it’s called—but some psychic ability, too. Be careful of your thoughts when you’re around him.”

“So I’ve been told. Apparently, this isn’t my first rodeo with that man.” Meg grimaced inwardly remembering the descriptions from her brother of a psychic blast Arkdone shot at her when she tried to manipulate his thoughts. “But thank you for the warning.”

“What are you going to say?”

“I never plan these things. I just open my mouth and say the first thing that comes to mind. I can’t do it any other way. See Gideon, I’m more afraid of losing what makes me Meg than I am afraid of him.”

Gideon watched her as she finished zipping her second black boot, but said nothing.

“Thank you for trying to help, Gideon. I appreciate knowing I’m not completely alone here.”

“Remember the backup plan, Meg.”

“I remember.”

“I’ll be in the room. Rub the back of your neck like the branding still itches if you need to get out of there.”

“The branding does still itch!”

“I have to go. Eloise will be here any minute.”

They listened as the piece Arkdone was playing finished. Meg kept turning to look at the clock. They should still have six minutes left. Both she and Gideon exhaled their breath when the piano came back to life.

Without another word, Gideon moved with the grace and speed of his race to the door and slipped out of the room inside three seconds.

Five minutes later, Eloise kept her promise. “Please follow me, Miss,” she bowed and walked down the opulent corridor. The music had stopped a couple of minutes before. Meg forced herself to pull her shoulders back and lift her chin as she walked through freshly stained double doors and into the dining room.





Chapter 58 Breakfast Utensils Just Don’t Come Sharp Enough



“Good morning, Meg!” Arkdone was waiting for her with a cup of coffee in hand as he stood beside the elaborately set breakfast table.

“Senator,” Meg nodded.

“I trust you slept well?” he continued to stand, waiting for Meg to take a seat first.

Meg slipped gracefully into the chair obviously set for her, as there were only two place settings.

“I was exhausted.” Meg tipped her head to the side as she watched him take his seat.

“And the accommodations? Were they to your liking?” he asked, his coffee cup and saucer clanking softly as he set them down above his plate.

“The room is just fine,” Meg glanced to her right where she saw a perfectly presentable Gideon slip into the room and stand with his hands folded behind his back in the standard soldier at-rest stance. His honey yellow eyes stared straight ahead, but Meg knew he saw everything.

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