elevator, doors sliding open. He guided me and we stopped, doors closing. “I do trust you. How could I not? You have my heart."
"You always speak pretty words. Are you saying that you're in love with me?"
Sandalwood.
Though I couldn't see him, I could smell him, feel the heat radiating off his body. He was close to me, so very close.
"If I hadn't made you that promise, the one that said I would not kiss you again while you were here, I would show you how much you mean to me,” he murmured in my ear. “But if you want to hear those words, you'll have to hold up your end of the bargain."
"Why are you doing this to me?” I whispered.
"I can't help myself. I know I shouldn't be saying these things to you. Every time I'm with you, I step over the line, or cross some boundary I should not be crossing. But the moment we met, I felt something. I know you felt it too. We were drawn to each other. You would have been brought here regardless of how I felt personally, but now that you're here, I can't let it go. Time is precious. I can't ignore it. I can't pretend there's nothing between us. And I don't want to."
He moved away, and then I heard a soft click. The elevator began moving up.
What was this? Fate being cruel? A star-crossed destiny?
Had I always been in love with him?
No. It would never work between us.
I shook my head. “You're going to break my heart in the end."
"Never that, Brenna. If you'll let me, I'll make up for all of this. I swear. Please be patient, keep trusting me."
The elevator slowed to a stop, I swayed on feet, my body still unaccustomed to the loss of a vital sense. He pulled me close, his solid body steadying me. I heard the elevator doors slide open and we disembarked.
"How big is this place?” I asked as he led me to our destination.
"Three levels, six apartments on each floor. Courtyard, lobby, gym, pool, roof."
Wow, how surprising. He actually told me. Maybe my little ‘trust’ confession actually moved him.
I felt the change in the air the moment we stepped into the new place, the door quietly shutting behind us. I heard whispering, the clicking of a keyboard, a muffled speaker broadcasting in Arabic. He led me deeper in the oppressive room, then moved me around and untied the blindfold.
It was an apartment ... but not. Instead of the things you'd expect, like home furniture, it was more like some computer geek's basement. There was a long table against the wall with computers, security monitors, printers, and all sorts of office technology. Two men sat with their backs to me, headphones over their ears, intently watching a monitor showing a guy in a room.
"Brenna, look at me."
I turned to my captor, noticing he held a large EMT bag.
"I need you to treat a prisoner."
Another prisoner?
Some poor, young wounded US soldier came to mind.
"Listen, this is very important,” he whispered. “Do not speak, do not make eye contact, and do not touch the prisoner more than you have to. Work quickly so we can get you out of there. Do you understand?"
I nodded absently. I understood what he was saying, but I didn't understand . Something was off here.
"I can't go in there, but there will be armed guards to protect you. Do you think you can do this?"
Armed guards ... torture?
Had they tortured the prisoner? I glanced around at all the monitoring equipment. Was that why they had kidnapped me and brought me here? To heal their victims for the next round of interrogation?
My stomach turned, my eyes seeing my enemy in a whole new light.
"If the prisoner won't let you treat him, don't press it,” he continued.
I just stared in disbelief, his words meaning nothing. Had everything he'd ever said to me been a lie? God! How could I have been so stupid? How could I have ever trusted someone I met at gunpoint?
My captor turned and knocked on a bedroom door. “If things go wrong, leave immediately. I'll be waiting for you right here. Don't worry. I'll be watching,” he said, indicating
"You always speak pretty words. Are you saying that you're in love with me?"
Sandalwood.
Though I couldn't see him, I could smell him, feel the heat radiating off his body. He was close to me, so very close.
"If I hadn't made you that promise, the one that said I would not kiss you again while you were here, I would show you how much you mean to me,” he murmured in my ear. “But if you want to hear those words, you'll have to hold up your end of the bargain."
"Why are you doing this to me?” I whispered.
"I can't help myself. I know I shouldn't be saying these things to you. Every time I'm with you, I step over the line, or cross some boundary I should not be crossing. But the moment we met, I felt something. I know you felt it too. We were drawn to each other. You would have been brought here regardless of how I felt personally, but now that you're here, I can't let it go. Time is precious. I can't ignore it. I can't pretend there's nothing between us. And I don't want to."
He moved away, and then I heard a soft click. The elevator began moving up.
What was this? Fate being cruel? A star-crossed destiny?
Had I always been in love with him?
No. It would never work between us.
I shook my head. “You're going to break my heart in the end."
"Never that, Brenna. If you'll let me, I'll make up for all of this. I swear. Please be patient, keep trusting me."
The elevator slowed to a stop, I swayed on feet, my body still unaccustomed to the loss of a vital sense. He pulled me close, his solid body steadying me. I heard the elevator doors slide open and we disembarked.
"How big is this place?” I asked as he led me to our destination.
"Three levels, six apartments on each floor. Courtyard, lobby, gym, pool, roof."
Wow, how surprising. He actually told me. Maybe my little ‘trust’ confession actually moved him.
I felt the change in the air the moment we stepped into the new place, the door quietly shutting behind us. I heard whispering, the clicking of a keyboard, a muffled speaker broadcasting in Arabic. He led me deeper in the oppressive room, then moved me around and untied the blindfold.
It was an apartment ... but not. Instead of the things you'd expect, like home furniture, it was more like some computer geek's basement. There was a long table against the wall with computers, security monitors, printers, and all sorts of office technology. Two men sat with their backs to me, headphones over their ears, intently watching a monitor showing a guy in a room.
"Brenna, look at me."
I turned to my captor, noticing he held a large EMT bag.
"I need you to treat a prisoner."
Another prisoner?
Some poor, young wounded US soldier came to mind.
"Listen, this is very important,” he whispered. “Do not speak, do not make eye contact, and do not touch the prisoner more than you have to. Work quickly so we can get you out of there. Do you understand?"
I nodded absently. I understood what he was saying, but I didn't understand . Something was off here.
"I can't go in there, but there will be armed guards to protect you. Do you think you can do this?"
Armed guards ... torture?
Had they tortured the prisoner? I glanced around at all the monitoring equipment. Was that why they had kidnapped me and brought me here? To heal their victims for the next round of interrogation?
My stomach turned, my eyes seeing my enemy in a whole new light.
"If the prisoner won't let you treat him, don't press it,” he continued.
I just stared in disbelief, his words meaning nothing. Had everything he'd ever said to me been a lie? God! How could I have been so stupid? How could I have ever trusted someone I met at gunpoint?
My captor turned and knocked on a bedroom door. “If things go wrong, leave immediately. I'll be waiting for you right here. Don't worry. I'll be watching,” he said, indicating
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