Last Guard (Psy-Changeling Trinity #5) by Nalini Singh

Payal had no idea which element of that to address first, so she did what she always did when she got overwhelmed. She broke his reply down into its component parts. And went straight to the point that shook her the most. Thank you for protecting me.

You never have to thank me for looking out for you. Pure voice, rough words.

She swallowed hard. I’ll be perfectly capable when I contact the Ruling Coalition.

I don’t care about that. I was worried about you, 3K.

What had once been a moniker that indicated pain and horror had become a thing far more tender. As if Canto had claimed it, put his stamp on it.

Payal stood motionless at her kitchenette counter, her eyes hot and her walls tumbling down all over again. She always ate in her apartment and ordered her own food via private delivery because she didn’t trust anyone in the house, not even those who’d professed their loyalty.

She’d been fine alone for years. She’d been functional.

And sad, whispered the lost, broken part of her. Sad and so alone. She didn’t want to be that way today, didn’t want to live in an isolated bubble where she could never let down her guard.

Canto was so dangerous to her—and her craving for him was a storm.

She looked down at her pajamas. A pair of thin cotton pants of blue with fine yellow stripes, paired with a white T-shirt in a silky fabric that felt good against her skin. My mind has regrouped, she telepathed to him, her heart a drumbeat. I might teleport to the oasis after I have my nutrients.

If he didn’t want to acknowledge her implied invitation, he could just tell her she was welcome to go there.

Nothing in her words made her need obvious.

Nothing laid her soft inner core bare to him.

No, Canto said. Come here.

The image that entered her mind was of a room with comfortable sofas of chocolate brown and warm wooden flooring striped by what looked to be midmorning sunshine.

Okay. Her fingers trembled.

Breathing slow and deep, slow and deep until her mind no longer skittered, she drank the first glass of nutrients with focused concentration. She couldn’t so quickly intake the second, decided to leave it for later.

Hurry, hurry, whispered the madness in her. Go to him. To 7J.

She thought about brushing her hair into its usual tail, thought about putting on the cosmetics she’d learned to use because they created a shield against the world. Then she thought about the image Canto had sent her. Her heartbeat jerked. She was near certain what he’d done, but it made no rational sense to her. Yet she teleported into that space—into danger—while barefoot and in her pajamas.

The ghost of the little girl she’d once been, wanting to see the friend in him.

Her mind responded with red warning sirens an instant afterward, but it was too late to take back her action. She’d arrived.

CANTO couldn’t believe she was here. All sleep-tumbled hair, a line yet marking her cheek from when she’d curled onto her side, her body clad in soft fabrics that made him want to touch, and her feet bare.

Her toenails were neatly buffed and polished with a clear coat, her toes small, as befitted her overall size. He’d never before noticed anyone’s toes. It was probably strange and creepy to find himself fascinated by them, but he couldn’t stop noticing things about her—couldn’t stop being fascinated by her.

His heart was thunder.

“Don’t get mad, but I got you food.” He scowled, aggravated by the shadows under her eyes. “Actual solid food.” Payal needed fuel, especially since he’d made her teleport here; he’d thrown the items together in the short minutes since she’d said she’d go to the desert … and he’d hoped she’d come to him.

“I can’t not help you. Don’t ask that of me.” He picked up a fortified roll and thrust it at her, even knowing she’d probably be furious with him for doing it. He couldn’t help it, not with her shoeless and sleep-mussed and looking at him with those big cardinal eyes, her face devoid of makeup.

But what she said had nothing to do with the food. “This is your home.” She sounded … appalled.

Appalled.

His chest expanded, fire in his blood. She hadn’t stepped back, hadn’t told him to stop taking care of her. No, she was glaring at him as if he’d lost his goddamn mind. Canto wanted to fucking dance. “Yes.”

Everyone in his family would lose their shit when they discovered what he’d done. But if Canto knew one thing, it was that he had to be the naked and defenseless one in this first step into pure trust. Payal didn’t have that capacity and he couldn’t ask it of her. While Canto might’ve had a cold bastard for a father, he’d then been embraced by a pack of Mercants who’d gut anyone who dared lay a finger on him.

Payal had never had anyone.

Well, fuck that. She had him now, and he’d show her until she accepted that indelible truth.

“You just gave a teleporter access to your home.” Appalled was morphing into furious. Grabbing the bread roll, she shook it at him. “Do you know what I could do with that information?”

Canto shrugged, fighting a grin. “Teleport in and murder me.” Unless he did major renovations—including blocking out the view beyond the automatic balcony sliders—she could now enter his home as she wished.

“Why?” She spread her arms on either side of her body, and the sun speared through the white of her tee to reveal the protrusion of her rib cage.