Chapter 89

Ronan's POV

Mara entered the refuge as if she intended to learn its dimensions before deciding whether she liked it. She checked the outer door, the hall to the kitchen, and the narrow stair. I had made a bed in the second room. I watched her notice and tried not to turn her raised eyebrow into an answer I hadn't asked for.

“You expected me,” she said.

“I hoped you would come. That didn't make it safe to invite you.”

“Those are different things.”

She took off the borrowed gloves and warmed her hands around the cup. The sight of her bare fingers brought back last week's memory of their pressure against my shoulders in bed. The old route stirred. I set my own cup down until I could think clearly again.

“I need to tell you about the doors,” I said.