Blind Ambition by Gwen Hernandez Page A

klicks.
    “That’s not what I meant and you know it.” Now she was angry. Good . “I—”
    “Save it. None of that matters now.” He didn’t want to think about it anymore. Didn’t care what her reasons were. It wouldn’t change anything.
    He moved to his knees and began wrestling with the rope on his ankles, trying to slide it around. “We need to find a way to get out of here.”
    She looked away and clamped her mouth shut, her cheeks ruddy.
    Twenty minutes later they were no closer to escape. The cell was devoid of anything but a bucket without a handle—presumably for waste. He had no tools, and Alexa was too far away for them to help each other.
    He was still trying to turn the rope around his ankles, but it was slow going. The rough hemp burned his skin with every tug. Finally he got it to one side, where he could work the knot with his fingers. It was tight, but what the hell else did he have to do?
    “I still don’t know why my dad picked you,” she said, puncturing the relative silence.
    He glanced up. “You didn’t ask him?”
    “I didn’t get a chance.”
    “Maybe he thought a familiar face would be more persuasive in getting you home. Clearly, he overestimated my influence.”
    “But I never told him about our…relationship.”
    Is that what she was calling it? “You didn’t tell him you were bumping like bunnies with some dirt-poor enlisted guy you just met? I can’t imagine why.”
    “ Dan— ”
    He sighed. “Sorry.” Why couldn’t he stop being a prick? If these were their last hours together, he didn’t want to spend them at odds. “Just ignore me.” He worked out his frustrations on the tighter-than-a-lieutenant’s-asshole knot until his fingers were raw.
    The tension stretched out between them, filled with nothing but the muted sounds of birds and bugs and the occasional rumble of voices from outside. He was pretty sure there was more than one man guarding them, but he couldn’t tell how many. Petitt had probably put him and Alexa together so they’d be easier to keep track of.
    Definitely not so they could hash out their past relationship.
    “It wasn’t like that,” she finally said.
    He stifled a sigh. “Like what?” he asked, without looking up. If he kept his head down, eyes closed, he could envision the knot in his mind. For all the good it was doing.
    “I didn’t break things off because of your socioeconomic status.”
    Socioeconomic status? Jesus. “So what you’re saying is that it was just me.” As if his ego hadn’t taken enough of a hit from this woman.
    “ No .”
    God help him. “Okay. Since you’re so hell-bent on enlightening me, then by all means. Why did you ‘break things off’?”
    She cleared her throat. “Well, for one, because I’d lied to you.”
    He did look at her then, giving her his best I’m-calling-your-bullshit expression. “A conversation could have solved that. You think I’m such a dick I wouldn’t understand your reasons? Hell, safety alone is enough. Look what’s happening now, for example.”
    She stared at the floor, her brows drawn low. “You’re right. I could have told you. But I didn’t want to.” Her head came up and their eyes locked. “People treat me differently when they know the truth. I feel like I can’t be myself when they know.”
    “So it was easier to end a good thing than to spill? You didn’t give me much credit,” he said.
    Would he have changed toward her once he knew? Maybe. Dan was no stranger to rich girls who liked slumming it. In fact, he’d taken full advantage of the phenomenon when he bussed tables at the country club. He had also quickly learned that while sex was awesome, it sucked donkey balls to find out you were good enough for a pretty girl to fuck, but not good enough to date. Not good enough to be seen in public with, even after you’d seen everything she had to offer, up close and personal.
    Plus, the man he was three years ago would have been intimidated as hell by