authorities had to be looking for her right this very minute.
Her captor chuckled, and the sound was like ice, drenching her heart and soul and mind. She swallowed the last bite and looked up. The plate rattled against her broken fingernails.
“Be sure to drink.” He set a plastic jug of water on the floor, then pushed himself to his feet. “We don’t want you getting dehydrated. It’s almost over. Just hold on a little longer.”
He backed out the way he’d come, and then the metal hinges groaned and the door slammed shut with a crack that shook the entire room.
Silence and utter blackness swirled around Olivia like a vortex. Her stomach rolled, and the food she’d just eaten felt like a mound of lead in her gut. Pushing the plate away, she tugged her legs up, wrapped her arms around her head, and leaned against the corner of the cold room while she fought the rush of tears suddenly choking off her air supply. She didn’t know where she was. She didn’t know who was doing this to her or why. And she had no idea how long she’d be here or if she’d ever break free. All she knew was that she was alone.
Alone and tired and cold and afraid. And there was no one to hear her scream.
O kay, enough was enough. Eve cut her gaze toward Archer in the dim bedroom and clenched her jaw.
The bastard had fallen asleep like he didn’t have a care in the world while she sat here fuming and wishing she had a hatchet so she could chop off his arm and get away from all his manly heat.
Anger simmered under her skin as she watched light from the window fall over his bare muscular torso, his bandaged shoulder, and his scruffy jawline. His hair was a rumpled mess, his face tipped her way on the pillow. Moonlight made his eyelashes look longer and his lips too damn kissable.
She didn’t want to kiss him, dammit. She wanted to get the hell away from him. Her gaze strayed to the hand of his bad arm resting against his chiseled stomach, then to his jeans, riding entirely too low for her taste right now. Warmth bloomed in her stomach and trickled between her legs. Even in the dim light, she could see the hollow of his hip bones and that dark patch of hair leading south like a giant arrow.
She blew out a frustrated breath that lifted her bangs. She so didn’t need this. His body heat was already doing a number on her libido. And having to look at that —at something she’d swear was photoshopped if she wasn’t staring at it in the flesh? So not what she deserved right now.
Escape. She needed to think about getting away from him before things got out of control.
She looked back down at the plastic zip tie around her wrist and twisted until pain shot up her arm for the hundredth time. Fucking Archer . . .
A thought hit, and she glanced toward the nightstand. It was a long shot, considering this was a rental, but maybe the last person who’d stayed here had left something in the top drawer that would help her.
She tried the one on her side of the bed first, reaching carefully away with her free arm so as not to rouse him. When she found the drawer empty, she sighed in disappointment, then scooted back to the middle of the bed. She glanced past him toward the nightstand on his side. One look told her he was still sound asleep, his chest rising and falling in a gentle rhythm. She bit her lip, slowly—carefully—rolled onto her side, and pushed her weight on one knee.
Her hand, connected to his, landed against the mattress down by her leg. She couldn’t lift it any higher for fear of waking him. Balancing her weight on one knee and wrist, she slowly straddled his hips, then pressed her other hand against the pillow near his head.
That heat intensified, and his scent drifted in, making her light-headed, reminding her of the dozens of other times she’d straddled him like this. In the middle of the night. Silent so Carter wouldn’t hear them. Naked.
She closed her eyes and fought back the wicked burst of arousal
Her captor chuckled, and the sound was like ice, drenching her heart and soul and mind. She swallowed the last bite and looked up. The plate rattled against her broken fingernails.
“Be sure to drink.” He set a plastic jug of water on the floor, then pushed himself to his feet. “We don’t want you getting dehydrated. It’s almost over. Just hold on a little longer.”
He backed out the way he’d come, and then the metal hinges groaned and the door slammed shut with a crack that shook the entire room.
Silence and utter blackness swirled around Olivia like a vortex. Her stomach rolled, and the food she’d just eaten felt like a mound of lead in her gut. Pushing the plate away, she tugged her legs up, wrapped her arms around her head, and leaned against the corner of the cold room while she fought the rush of tears suddenly choking off her air supply. She didn’t know where she was. She didn’t know who was doing this to her or why. And she had no idea how long she’d be here or if she’d ever break free. All she knew was that she was alone.
Alone and tired and cold and afraid. And there was no one to hear her scream.
O kay, enough was enough. Eve cut her gaze toward Archer in the dim bedroom and clenched her jaw.
The bastard had fallen asleep like he didn’t have a care in the world while she sat here fuming and wishing she had a hatchet so she could chop off his arm and get away from all his manly heat.
Anger simmered under her skin as she watched light from the window fall over his bare muscular torso, his bandaged shoulder, and his scruffy jawline. His hair was a rumpled mess, his face tipped her way on the pillow. Moonlight made his eyelashes look longer and his lips too damn kissable.
She didn’t want to kiss him, dammit. She wanted to get the hell away from him. Her gaze strayed to the hand of his bad arm resting against his chiseled stomach, then to his jeans, riding entirely too low for her taste right now. Warmth bloomed in her stomach and trickled between her legs. Even in the dim light, she could see the hollow of his hip bones and that dark patch of hair leading south like a giant arrow.
She blew out a frustrated breath that lifted her bangs. She so didn’t need this. His body heat was already doing a number on her libido. And having to look at that —at something she’d swear was photoshopped if she wasn’t staring at it in the flesh? So not what she deserved right now.
Escape. She needed to think about getting away from him before things got out of control.
She looked back down at the plastic zip tie around her wrist and twisted until pain shot up her arm for the hundredth time. Fucking Archer . . .
A thought hit, and she glanced toward the nightstand. It was a long shot, considering this was a rental, but maybe the last person who’d stayed here had left something in the top drawer that would help her.
She tried the one on her side of the bed first, reaching carefully away with her free arm so as not to rouse him. When she found the drawer empty, she sighed in disappointment, then scooted back to the middle of the bed. She glanced past him toward the nightstand on his side. One look told her he was still sound asleep, his chest rising and falling in a gentle rhythm. She bit her lip, slowly—carefully—rolled onto her side, and pushed her weight on one knee.
Her hand, connected to his, landed against the mattress down by her leg. She couldn’t lift it any higher for fear of waking him. Balancing her weight on one knee and wrist, she slowly straddled his hips, then pressed her other hand against the pillow near his head.
That heat intensified, and his scent drifted in, making her light-headed, reminding her of the dozens of other times she’d straddled him like this. In the middle of the night. Silent so Carter wouldn’t hear them. Naked.
She closed her eyes and fought back the wicked burst of arousal
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