There was a groan from in the room and a thump as though she’d landed against the door.
“Are you all right, Spitfire?” he asked.
Shit. He hadn’t intended to sound so . . . tender. He closed his eyes for a moment.
“I’m sorry,” she said quietly. “I just acted like a . . . like a toddler having a tantrum.”
She had.
But an adorable one. One who he wanted to gather up in his arms and shelter from the world.
Not yours.
“You looked scared,” he said to her. “When I mentioned leaving, you looked afraid.”
The door opened and she stood there, staring at his chest. Then, to his shock, she glanced right up at him and swallowed heavily.
“I am. I’m scared to be here. Alone.”
Oh, his poor Bébé.
His hands itched to gather her close, much like they’d itched to spank her just before when she’d stomped her foot like that. As cute as he thought it had been, throwing a tantrum and running from the room wasn’t good behavior.
“What have I promised you several times?” Her head dropped forward and he grasped hold of her chin, tilting it back so he was staring down at her. “What have I promised you?”
“That you won’t let anything happen to me.”
“Exactly.”
“But how—umph.”
He put his finger over her mouth, stifling her words. “Just trust me. I will make it happen.”
Even if he stayed without pay. He wasn’t leaving her until some things got sorted out. Until she had people she could trust at her back to help protect her.
“Now, go finish getting ready. We need to get the dogs into the car and go for a drive.”
“Come on, Tank, baby,”she pleaded. “It will be fun, I promise. We’re not going to the vet.”
Big Berry squealed at her as she said the V word.
“What was that about?” Matthieu asked.
“I forgot that Big Berry doesn’t like the V word,” she explained. “Come on, Tank. Come on, boy.”
“Can I try?” he asked.
She’d been trying for half an hour to cajole Tank out. She’d used treats. She’d used toys. She’d used a soft voice and gentle promises.
Nothing.
It was breaking her heart.
“Maybe we shouldn’t be doing this,” she said.
“You’re trying to do something nice for him,” Matthieu countered. “Come here.” He crooked a finger at her.
“I really should cut that finger off,” she muttered as she stood and moved toward him.