pants scratched at my abused body. The odor of stale peanut oil wafted from the black sweatshirt, permeating everything. Suddenly, I couldn’t take it anymore. “Can I borrow some clothes?”
He sauntered over to the counter, invaded my personal space, and slowly reached out. I tensed, planning a defensive move, but his finger only stroked a stray tendril of hair. The clean scent of soap and something spicy wrapped around me, elevating my need to wash away this grime.
“Shoot. Here I was thinking I could keep you naked and chained to the sink.”
I shivered at the heat in his eyes. His verbal prodding, meant to keep me off balance, was working. I held firm against the temptation to answer with a not so subtle shift of my hips.
“Pass.”
He twisted his finger around a strand of my blonde-streaked hair. “What is your natural hair color?”
“Question number one?”
“Call it a...toll to get in the shower.”
“I don’t know.” It changed frequently. Depending on my cover. I had no idea what my natural color might be. Somewhere between blond and brown. My father....
My father had been blond. My mother’s hair had been coal black. Funny to remember that. I didn’t let myself remember my parents very often. It hurt far too much.
I also remembered my parent’s admonitions never to give up any information, no matter how trivial. I’d broken their rules without even thinking about it.
I turned toward the bathroom.
“Jesus.” His fingers wrapped around my forearm, gentle as he stopped me.
“What?”
“There’s blood on this.” He touched the napkin I’d jammed over the open cut in my neck when I’d lifted the new clothes. “It’s going to hurt when I pull it off.”
Oh brother. Like it didn’t hurt when I did it? I reached around and yanked the paper off. “All done.”
He smiled but his eyes were sharp, lethal. “I guess you’re a ‘get it over with’ kind of girl.”
“Woman.” I hadn’t been a girl for a very long time.
He grabbed a dishtowel, soaked it with warm water, and dabbed at the sore skin. It felt like he was stabbing my neck with a knife.
“I know this hurts. I’m sorry.”
I shrugged.
“Always the tough one.” He pressed a kiss to the exposed curve of my neck. The gesture was tender and completely unexpected. And very, very seductive.
“I’ll get that shower now.” I pushed away from him before my body and mind could betray me. And to remind myself that I couldn’t trust him, I turned back. “ Adios .”
He acknowledged my verbal parry with a nod. “Guy’s got to keep something in reserve.”
I wondered what other secrets he had tucked away.
***
The shower was quick and intense.
As the hot spray hit my neck, I dug my toes into the vintage octagonal tiles of the shower floor. Thank God the beacon had been implanted shallowly.
I rushed through dressing, rolling the sleeves of his cotton dress shirt up to my forearms. I left the top three buttons undone, letting my considerable cleavage play peekaboo with anyone interested in looking.
I’d take any distraction I could get.
His jeans weren’t all that large on me. Dammit. At least the extra room in the waist gave me ample space in the small of my back. I just needed a weapon.
Lucas’s ongoing tenderness kept suspicion in the front of my thoughts. Why hold on to the syringe? There didn’t seem to be a logical connection between him and my abductors
but--I couldn’t rule it out and I couldn’t let down my guard.
Lucas sat at the desk, flipping through unopened mail. He glanced up as I entered. “You ready?”
For what?
“Dinner.” He stood swiftly. “It’s not far.”
I flexed my right hand. Out? He only had frozen french fries in his freezer and moldy spaghetti sauce and a full container of fuzzy leftover Chinese vegetables in his fridge. But he must have seen my instinctive denial.
“Even if I had any food, you wouldn’t trust anything I’d give you to eat.”
He was right. And I
He sauntered over to the counter, invaded my personal space, and slowly reached out. I tensed, planning a defensive move, but his finger only stroked a stray tendril of hair. The clean scent of soap and something spicy wrapped around me, elevating my need to wash away this grime.
“Shoot. Here I was thinking I could keep you naked and chained to the sink.”
I shivered at the heat in his eyes. His verbal prodding, meant to keep me off balance, was working. I held firm against the temptation to answer with a not so subtle shift of my hips.
“Pass.”
He twisted his finger around a strand of my blonde-streaked hair. “What is your natural hair color?”
“Question number one?”
“Call it a...toll to get in the shower.”
“I don’t know.” It changed frequently. Depending on my cover. I had no idea what my natural color might be. Somewhere between blond and brown. My father....
My father had been blond. My mother’s hair had been coal black. Funny to remember that. I didn’t let myself remember my parents very often. It hurt far too much.
I also remembered my parent’s admonitions never to give up any information, no matter how trivial. I’d broken their rules without even thinking about it.
I turned toward the bathroom.
“Jesus.” His fingers wrapped around my forearm, gentle as he stopped me.
“What?”
“There’s blood on this.” He touched the napkin I’d jammed over the open cut in my neck when I’d lifted the new clothes. “It’s going to hurt when I pull it off.”
Oh brother. Like it didn’t hurt when I did it? I reached around and yanked the paper off. “All done.”
He smiled but his eyes were sharp, lethal. “I guess you’re a ‘get it over with’ kind of girl.”
“Woman.” I hadn’t been a girl for a very long time.
He grabbed a dishtowel, soaked it with warm water, and dabbed at the sore skin. It felt like he was stabbing my neck with a knife.
“I know this hurts. I’m sorry.”
I shrugged.
“Always the tough one.” He pressed a kiss to the exposed curve of my neck. The gesture was tender and completely unexpected. And very, very seductive.
“I’ll get that shower now.” I pushed away from him before my body and mind could betray me. And to remind myself that I couldn’t trust him, I turned back. “ Adios .”
He acknowledged my verbal parry with a nod. “Guy’s got to keep something in reserve.”
I wondered what other secrets he had tucked away.
***
The shower was quick and intense.
As the hot spray hit my neck, I dug my toes into the vintage octagonal tiles of the shower floor. Thank God the beacon had been implanted shallowly.
I rushed through dressing, rolling the sleeves of his cotton dress shirt up to my forearms. I left the top three buttons undone, letting my considerable cleavage play peekaboo with anyone interested in looking.
I’d take any distraction I could get.
His jeans weren’t all that large on me. Dammit. At least the extra room in the waist gave me ample space in the small of my back. I just needed a weapon.
Lucas’s ongoing tenderness kept suspicion in the front of my thoughts. Why hold on to the syringe? There didn’t seem to be a logical connection between him and my abductors
but--I couldn’t rule it out and I couldn’t let down my guard.
Lucas sat at the desk, flipping through unopened mail. He glanced up as I entered. “You ready?”
For what?
“Dinner.” He stood swiftly. “It’s not far.”
I flexed my right hand. Out? He only had frozen french fries in his freezer and moldy spaghetti sauce and a full container of fuzzy leftover Chinese vegetables in his fridge. But he must have seen my instinctive denial.
“Even if I had any food, you wouldn’t trust anything I’d give you to eat.”
He was right. And I
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