UNTIL LOVE SETS US APART ( JENLISA)

Chapter 3

"Thank you," she said again, and she began to eat. I busied myself around the kitchen just so I wasn't standing there and staring at her while she ate, but I was distinctly aware of every single one of her reactions; as one of the plates clattered against another, she jerked sharply, as though she had been struck. I fought the sudden urge to wrap my arms around her, to hold her close and protect her from everything that surrounded her, but I had to remember my boundaries. It wasn't my place. She had to come to trusting me, to trusting anyone, on her own. I couldn't force it.

She watched me as I made my way around the kitchen, and I could feel her eyes burning into me as though she was trying to see into my soul.

"Are you alright?" I asked, glancing over at her, and she lowered her eyes at once, as though she had been caught out.

"You're allowed to look at me, Jennie," I assured her, and she pushed her hand through her long hair and met my gaze once more. Though she didn't say anything, she looked me dead in the eye, and that seemed to be enough for her for now. There was sadness in her beautiful grey green eyes that pained me, a depth of agony that was unique to her. I didn't even want to think about what she had been through.

"Rosé's going to be here soon," I told her. "She needs to talk to you about... about what happened."

She winced, as though she couldn't think of anything worse.

"Do you want to get cleaned up?" I asked. "I can run you a bath."

She smiled, and it reached her eyes this

time. "I'd like that," she replied softly. "Thank you."

I got to my feet and headed through to the bathroom, where I ran her a bath; I poured in some oil, it smelled good, of Jasmine, and the scent seemed to suit her well; deep, musky, a little mysterious. I took the candle and lit it in the bathroom, and laid out a clean towel for her. Normally I would have just gotten the cleaner to do this for me, but I wanted to take care of her myself; a sensation I had never really felt before, at least for anybody outside the family.

I made my way back to the kitchen and found her staring off into space, the corners of her mouth turned down, her eyes glazed as though she was lost deep in some memory.

"Jennie?" I asked her softly. She blinked and smiled as she met my gaze.

"Yes?" she replied softly.

"Your bath is ready," I told her. She got to her feet and stretched, and the shirt rode up a few inches to show off a strip of her slim figure. I looked away again. She probably wasn't used to modesty, having come from the situation she'd come from, but I still felt like I was in truding when I looked at her like that.

She brushed by me on the way to the bath room, and the briefest of touches was all that I needed to send an explosion of tingles over my skin. I wanted to reach out, to slide my arm around her slim waist and draw her against me, to wrap her in my arms and promise her that she would be safe. But she needed space. As the door clicked shut behind her and I heard her slip into the water with a small splash, I furrowed my brow. I didn't know where these feelings had come from. Perhaps it was as simple as the fact that I had been living like a lone wolf for a long time. There was a comfort to her company, even if I couldn't re ally define it, even in my own head.

I busied myself, switching on my laptop and replying to a couple of emails from work to keep myself distracted until Rosé got there. Even though I knew she was right, and that she needed to speak to Jennie if they had any hope of bringing those awful men to justice, part of me wanted to turn her away, just to give Jennie a little more space to process all that she had been through. But this was Rosé's business, not mine, and she knew far better than me.