Page 15 of Torin
Something shifts in his expression at the sound of it.
He holds out his hand. “Torin.”
Considering what happened the last time we touched, shaking it seems like a questionable idea. But after a second, I put my hand in his.
His palm closes around mine, and warmth rushes up my arm so fast I suck in a breath.
Torin’s fingers tighten. His eyes lock onto mine, and that strange, charged look is back—the one that makes me certain he knows something I don’t.
I pull my hand free.
Torin looks away first. “Stay in the truck and lock the doors. I’ll bring mine here, then you can decide whether you want the ride.”
I stare at him. “You’re just going to leave me here?”
“I’ll be back.”
“How long?”
“Twenty minutes. Maybe less.”
He looks at my dress, then toward the cab. “You have better clothes?”
“Yes.”
“Put them on.”
There’s an authority in his voice that should irritate me. Strangely, it doesn’t.
He steps away, then pauses. “If you hear anything outside, don’t get out to look.”
I glance toward the forest. “Anything like what?”
“Anything.”
Wonderful.
He turns away.
“Torin.”
He looks back.
“Why are you helping me?”
Something shifts in his expression.
“Do I need a reason?”
“Most people have one.”
His gaze holds mine for a second longer than it needs to.
“Maybe I’m not most people.”
I narrow my eyes at him. That doesn’t really answer my question.
He watches me for another second, then shifts. I take an involuntary step back as his body changes with startling speed, until the enormous dark bear is standing where the man was.
