than his own immediate future.
‘Have you ever worked in hospo?’
He shook his head. ‘Never.’
‘Oh...it’s just that our café is really busy with the start of the high season. I reckon you could get a job there too.’
‘I could try.’
‘You wouldn’t cope if you’ve never done it before. With no experience, probably the only job you’d get would be washing dishes.’ Her eyes widened. ‘The dishie we’ve got was talking about moving on yesterday. I’ll bet Marco hasn’t found a replacement yet.’
Washing dishes. Had he ever had to wash dishes? Meals away from his residential apartment at university had always been in restaurants, like meals away from the mess during his time with the military. As for the palace...he hadn’t even been near the kitchens since he’d been a small child in search of an extra treat.
Dishwashing was possibly one of the most ordinary jobs there was out here in the real world. And wasn’t ‘ordinary’ exactly what he’d set out to be in this time away from his real world?
‘I... I wouldn’t mind washing dishes.’
Mika’s nod was solemn. It was her turn to be silent for a while now. At last she spoke, and he could see by the way her throat moved as she swallowed first that she was making a huge effort.
‘I owe you one, Rafe...for today. There’s a couch in my room that you can sleep on tonight...as long as...’
She wouldn’t meet his gaze. There was something important that she didn’t want to say. Something about her body language reminded him of the hedgehog again. She was poised to curl into a ball to protect herself. With a flash, he realised what it could be and the thought was horrific. Had she been hurt by a man? Did that explain the way she’d reacted when he’d touched her? How hesitant she’d been to take his hand even when she’d been desperate?
‘Mika...’ He waited until she looked up and, yes, he could see uncertainty. It wasn’t fear, exactly, because there was a fierceness that told him she was well practised in defending herself. But she was clearly offering him something that was well out of her comfort zone.
He resisted the urge to touch her hand. Eye contact was more than enough, and even that he kept as gentle as he could. ‘We’re friends now, yes?’
Mika nodded but she wasn’t quite meeting his gaze.
‘You’re safe with me. I give you my word.’
She looked straight at him, then, and for a heartbeat, and then another, she held his gaze, as if she was searching for confirmation that his word was trustworthy.
That she found what she was looking for was revealed by no more than a softening of her face but Raoul could feel the gift of her trust as if it was solid enough to hold in his hands.
His vow was equally silent.
He would not drop that gift and break it.
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