A difficult task.
Finally, Kane took pity on him. “Your brother is worried about you. Rightly so. That’s why he asked me to come help. I promise, you’ll be safe with me,” he said, the certainty in his tone meant to let her know she needn’t be anxious.
“Will I?” Just like that, with one sweep of her eyes through impossibly long lashes, she let him know she’d rather stay. “No offense, but I think I’d rather take my chances here, with my brother and his family.”
Lucas shook his head, his gaze full of pain and regret. “That’s not an option, Lilly. Much as I’d like it to be.”
Lilly glanced from her brother to his new bride, and then toward the living room where a newly healed five-year-old watched television. Kane saw the moment the realization came to her. Both hurt and understanding flashed across her fragile features before she gave a wooden nod.
“I understand,” she said, her flat tone letting them know she’d retreated to that place inside herself that made her feel safe. “When do you need me to be ready?”
Steeling himself, Kane glanced at his watch. “How about in one hour?”
Ignoring the instant protests by both Lucas and Blythe—their voices merging together as they insisted Kane stay for dinner or better yet, the night—Lilly jerked her chin in a simple nod and glided out of the room.
Kane waited until she was gone before lifting his hand. “Enough.”
Just like that, they fell silent. “I’m leaving tonight. She’s getting ready. The sooner we get out of town, the better. I don’t want whoever is watching her to get a make on me or my vehicle.”
Blythe frowned. “You think they’re watching the house?”
Careful to appear casual, Kane gave a nonchalant shrug. “It’s possible. One thing I’ve learned over the years is to always expect the worst.”
Though Lucas nodded, agreeing with him, Blythe’s frown deepened. “If that’s the case, when they see you leaving with her, they’re going to follow.”
“I’ve already considered that.” Fishing in his backpack, he pulled out a plastic bag containing one of the wigs he’d purchased before leaving Texas. “Have her put this on. The color and style are similar to yours. Also, it’d help if you lend her one of your outfits. Something you wear often, that might be easily recognizable as yours.”
Accepting the wig, she finally graced him with a small smile. “You think you can make them believe Lilly is me.”
Again he shrugged. “People generally see what they want to see. They’ll have no reason to think otherwise. But to make certain, I’d like you to put on this.” Again he dug in his bag, bringing out a second wig. “This is as close as I could get to her hairstyle.”
Taking this wig, too, Blythe laughed, the musical sound making both Lucas and Kane smile. “You really have thought of everything.”
Still smiling at his wife, Lucas clapped him on the shoulder. “I told you he’s good.”
Before Blythe could respond, Lilly appeared in the doorway. “I’m ready,” she said quietly, holding a small overnight bag. Though she wore a determined look, she couldn’t manage to banish the trepidation in her eyes.
“Is that all you’re bringing?” Blythe crossed to her and took her arm. “Would you like me to help you pack a few more things?”
“No.” Lilly’s gaze found Kane’s. He felt a connection sizzling along his nerve endings. “I don’t need much,” she said.
He nodded. “And if she needs more, I can always buy something for her. Now,” he continued, his tone brisk. “The two of you go in the bathroom and change clothes and put on the wigs I got you.”
“What?” Lilly appeared thoroughly confused. “I don’t—”
Blythe took her arm, steering her in the right direction. “I’ll explain while we’re changing.”
After the two women had gone, Kane turned to find Lucas eyeing him. “Don’t worry. I’ll take good care of her,” Kane said.
“You’d better.” Lucas’s harsh tone spoke of deep emotion. “I don’t want to lose her again.”
“You won’t.” Kane uttered the two words fiercely. They both knew he’d given an oath. Nothing would happen to Lilly Gideon while on his watch.
When the two women reappeared, he eyed them critically. Up close, he could tell that the wigs were cheaply made, but even through binoculars they’d do the trick. Blythe’s clothing hung on Lilly’s too-thin frame, but again, the disguise should serve its purpose.
“Are you ready?” Kane asked Lilly, holding out his hand.
Though she nodded, she stepped back rather than touch him. Which was okay, for now. Eventually, he hoped she’d trust him enough to welcome his touch.
And more, his inner voice whispered. He banished the thought as soon as it occurred to him. Life was messy enough without unnecessary complications.
* * *
Lilly waited until they were on the highway before speaking. “More than anything,” she said, sounding softer than she would have liked, “I wish I could be like everyone else.”
“Really?” A smile curved Kane’s hard slash of a mouth. “How’s that?”
She shrugged, hurriedly glancing away from him. “Normal.” Hesitating the space of a heartbeat, she resolutely continued. “Sane. I’m not, you know.”
Though he had to realize she was, in all fairness, trying to warn him, Kane didn’t appear concerned. His chiseled features still radiated masculine confidence, as if there was no problem she could throw his way that he couldn’t handle. “Don’t be so hard on yourself. You’ve been through a lot. You’re stronger than you think. Not too many women could have survived an ordeal like that.”
Rote words, the kind of meaningless phrases her therapist was fond of throwing around. The anger surging through Lilly startled and surprised her. “You don’t even know me.” Her even tone gave no hint of the resentment simmering just below the surface. She’d learned the hard way how to impose an icy self-control, to pretend a confidence she didn’t feel.
Even now, having finally gained both her freedom and her brother, she felt as if she walked under the shadow of her father’s madness. He’d hurt and abused her, all in the name of love. After fifteen years of living as his captive, trying to hang on to the rapidly diminishing spark that made up her inner self, she no longer knew how to interact with others. Especially not men. Most particularly men like Kane, the kind that embodied all that was male.
“You’ll be fine,” he said, smiling, looking like some dark angel who ought to frighten her, but instead intrigued her way too much.
“Don’t,” she ordered, the catch in her voice contradicting its sharpness. “Don’t patronize me.”
“I wasn’t,” he said firmly. “Believe me, Lilly Gideon. That’s the last thing I
