The Protector by Marliss Melton Read Free Book Online

admitted.
     
    She clutched the porch rail for support. “Then why am I here?” Not to knock her father’s choice for a champion, but Ike was about as welcoming as a hangman, and this place was just a bit remote for her taste.
     
    “Been asking myself the same question,” he gritted, telling her nothing. With a jerk of his head, he gestured for her to enter.    
     
    Eryn called her dog for protection before venturing into the shadowy interior.  
     
    The dwelling was woefully primitive, without a hint of the rustic charm for which it had the potential. Its furnishings belonged to a past era. A brown sofa set, crude coffee table, and a woodstove took up most of the large room. A field-table stood adjacent to the front window, flanked by ladder-back chairs. Drab cabinets and ancient appliances lined the far wall, creating what was meant to be a kitchen.
     
    Welcome to the mountains.  
     
    On the other hand, the place couldn’t be cleaner, she had to admit. Every surface was free of clutter, not a speck of dust in sight. Even the worn hardwood floor shone with a dull luster. She felt secure enough to release her dog.  
     
    “You’ll sleep upstairs,” Ike said, inferring that the tightly shut door behind him led to his bedroom. “Bathroom’s under the stairs over there.”  
     
    Glimpsing white-washed paneling behind a half-closed door, Eryn started toward it. Thank you!
     
    “There’s no TV,” he continued, stalling her progress. “No radio, nothing but books. So if you’re expecting entertainment, you came to the wrong place,” he added, unnecessarily.
     
    Going rigid, she glared back at him. Wow. Two whole sentences this time. “I didn’t come here,” she reminded him. “You brought me, remember?”
     
    With a hard look, he headed up the flight of stairs in front of them, taking two steps at a time. She guessed she was supposed to follow. Darn it!
     
    Putting off her bladder, Eryn chased him to the low door at the height of the stairs and stepped into a child-sized room with a slanted ceiling and a dormered window. The flaking paint was vaguely yellow in hue. The mattress on the antique frame looked like it had been in use for decades. The single dresser was missing two drawers.
     
    “It’s pretty basic.” The chagrin in Ike’s voice made him seem less heartless.
     
    “ It’s fine,” she assured him. She’d seen worse while living overseas.
     
    “I’ll help you make the bed,” he offered, pulling open the remaining dresser drawers to produce sheets and a blanket.
     
    They worked in silence to dress the bed together. Ike made quick work of the job, tugging and tucking with the same ruthless efficiency he’d demonstrated while snatching her from the FBI.
     
    Eryn sheathed her pillow and set it at the head of the bed. “I, uh, I need to use the restroom,” she added, hurrying for the stairs.   
     
    The absence of a railing made her wary. So did the weakness in her legs. She’d made it halfway down the steps when her knees abruptly folded, causing her to ride the remainder of the treads on her bottom, just like at the safe house—only Ike’s wooden steps were more slippery. And harder.
     
    By the time she caught herself near the last step, her purse had fallen off her shoulder, spilling its contents all along the steps, including her pill bottle, which rolled clear to the door.
     
    With a whimper of humility, Eryn checked to see if her tailbone was broken. Miraculously, she hadn’t peed in her pants. She was conscious of Ike stepping gingerly around her. He dropped into a crouch at her feet and caught her chin between his thumb and forefinger.
     
    “You hurt?” he demanded, angling her head so he could see her face.       
     
    His touch made her nerves jangle. “No.” She jerked her chin from his warm grasp. Ignoring his outstretched hand, she rose under her own steam and swept all her stuff back into her purse, including a tampon with a worn wrapper.