Chapter Three
Charlie
By the time the car rolls to a stop, I’m not sure if I want to scream, laugh, or throw myself out the passenger door and make a run for it.
We’re in the middle of nowhere. Literally. A single cabin tucked beneath pine trees with smoke curling faintly from the chimney. It looks like something out of a rustic postcard—quiet, private, and terrifyingly isolated.
For the hundredth time tonight, I wonder how exactly I ended up here.
One minute, I was tasting freedom for the first time in my life, dancing, drinking, and pretending to be someone braver than myself.
And the next, I’m…letting myself get swept away by a devastatingly handsome blue-eyed stranger named Jack.
Jack.
I don’t know why the name fits him so well, but it does. Short, sharp, dangerous. Like the man himself.
And God help me, even as every part of me insists I should be scared of him, I can’t ignore the way my body reacts whenever he looks at me. Like I’m standing too close to a fire. Like if I let myself, I’ll burn.
He kills the engine, and for a moment, the silence between us is so heavy I can barely breathe. He climbs out, slamming his door, then circles around to mine.
“Come on,” he says, gesturing for me to get out.
I hesitate, stubborn pride holding me in place. “No.”
“Oh, we’re not doing this again, princess,” he says, his hand curling around my wrist, firm and unyielding. I grab the rest of my Twizzlers as he pulls me out of the car.
He pauses, and in that moment I swear I see a hint of amusement in his beautiful blue eyes, but then he slams the car door shut and starts to pull me toward the front door.
The inside of the cabin is warm and smells of pinewood and smoke. It isn’t much—a sofa near the hearth, a coffee table and a worn-out leather chair by the window.
Jack drops his keys on the counter, glances at me, then jerks his chin toward the hallway. “Bedroom’s yours. I’ll take the couch.”
I blink at him. That’s it? No threats? No yelling? He’s not going to…handcuff me to the bedpost? For some reason, I expected…more.
I shuffle awkwardly on my feet, unsure what to do with myself.
The air between us feels thick, charged.
Every movement of his body, every word he says, seems to hum beneath my skin like static.
I can still feel the ghost of his grip on my wrist, still hear the rough edge of his voice when he called me princess.
He leans a shoulder against the doorframe, crossing his arms over his broad chest. His dark shirt stretches across muscles in a way that makes my mouth go dry.
His hair is ink-black, short on the sides, a little longer on top, like he doesn’t bother taming it.
His jaw is strong, dusted with stubble that makes him look older, rougher, like the kind of man who’s lived a hundred lives I couldn’t even imagine.
And those eyes—cold, sharp, and endless blue—pin me in place, like he can see right through me.
God, he’s so beautiful. I’ve never wanted to capture a photograph of a person more than I do at this moment…
“Take a picture,” he says, jerking me out of the haze in my head.
“What?”
“You’re staring—a picture would last longer,” he says with a cocky smirk.
My cheeks flame up in embarrassment and I drop my gaze. “Sorry,” I murmur under my breath.
“You need anything?” he asks casually, like he isn’t aware of the fact that he’s currently melting me alive where I stand.
I shake my head quickly. “No. I’m fine.”
The corner of his mouth twitches, like he doesn’t believe me but isn’t going to argue. He pushes off the frame and turns toward the sofa, leaving me standing there, my pulse hammering in my throat.
God, what’s happening to me? I can’t be attracted to such a dangerous man. Right?
I step inside the bedroom and shut the door softly behind me. It’s small, barely bigger than my walk-in closet back home, but at least it’s private. A bed sits against the wall, neatly made, the quilt tucked in with military precision. I sink down onto the edge, the springs creaking beneath me.
Then the events of the day hit me all at once.
I press my palms into my knees, a laugh bubbling in my throat as I remember the image of my attacker flying across the dance floor. It’s been a wild night. Insane. Completely unpredictable.
And in the center of it all is Jack.
Just the thought of him sends a tremor down my spine. I should be scared of him, but all I can think about is his gorgeous blue eyes, and the way he looks at me like he can see into my soul.
I shake my head quickly, trying to dispel the heat that creeps up my neck. No. I can’t think about him like that. He’s my captor. My kidnapper. Whatever he is.
But who is he really? Who does he work for?
My dad’s face flashes in my mind. I hate to think that he was right in the end. The world outside his mansion isn’t safe after all.
I shake the thought away, alongside the pang of guilt in my chest. What I really need to think about is how to get out of here.
Just as I’m starting to dwell on that thought, there’s a knock at the door.
I jolt upright as it creaks open and Jack steps inside, his broad shoulders filling the frame.
He doesn’t ask permission. He just crosses the space in two strides and sets a neatly folded shirt and a small bundle of toiletries on the dresser.
“Figured you might need a change of clothes,” he says in that quiet yet intense manner of his.
“Thanks,” I murmur, hugging my arms around myself.
His gaze searches my face for a moment, his eyes lingering on my lips in a way that makes my throat go dry. “Goodnight.”
I nod, my throat feeling too tight to answer.
And just like that, he turns and leaves, shutting the door behind him with a quiet click.
I stand up slowly and walk over to the dresser to pick up the shirt. It’s huge—his shirt, obviously. The fabric is soft and worn, still warm from where he was holding it to his body.
Before I can stop myself, I press it to my chest. My eyes flutter closed as I breathe in. It smells like him—cedar and smoke, leather and something darker, dangerous.
My heart skips a dangerous beat, and I clutch it tighter for a moment before reality slams back into me. I snap my eyes open. What the hell am I doing, sniffing a stranger’s shirt like some weirdo?
I toss it onto the bed, scowling at myself. “Get it together, Charlie,” I whisper under my breath. I should probably get back to thinking about escaping this nightmare.
I quickly change into his shirt, ignoring the soft feel of the fabric against my body and the delicious tingles running through my skin. I return to the bed, sitting with my knees pulled to my chest. Then I wait, willing myself not to give in to the exhaustion pressing down on my body.
Time seems to crawl, but soon, it’s midnight. I can only pray that Jack has fallen asleep by now. I slide off the bed, keeping my steps light as I tiptoe across the wooden floor to the living room. My heart is beating fast, and I can almost hear the sound bouncing off the walls around me.
Luckily, Jack seems to be fast asleep.
He’s stretched out on the sofa, one arm tucked behind his head, the other resting heavy across his muscular chest. I stare for a second longer than necessary, fascinated by how the rugged planes of his face seem to be softened by sleep. He looks so much younger…carefree.
In another time and place, maybe, just maybe, I could have fallen for a man like Jack. But right now, I have to go.
I head for the door, slowly, keeping my steps light. I don’t even dare to breathe. I reach the door, gently curling my and around the knob, and—
“Going somewhere, princess?”
I freeze.
A scream lodges in my throat as his smooth, deep voice cuts through the silence. I turn slowly. Jack is sitting up now, those piercing blue eyes gleaming at me in the dark.
“I…I was just—”
He stands, moving toward me with the kind of stealth that makes my skin crawl and shiver all at once. “You really thought you could sneak past an ex Navy SEAL?”
I take a step back, my shoulders hitting the door. “Stay away from me.”
But he doesn’t. He closes the distance in two strides. Suddenly, his arms are around me and he’s lifting me off my feet, carrying me back to the bedroom.
“What the hell?” I hiss, kicking and wriggling to attempt to free myself from his grasp. “You’re insane!”
“You’re reckless,” he counters, his voice sharp and biting as he sets me back on my feet next to the bed. “You think the world out there is just waiting to welcome you with open arms? You don’t know how many people would pay to get their hands on Charlotte Freeman.”
At the sound of my name, my blood runs cold. “What did you just say?”
His jaw tightens, his eyes drilling into mine. “I’m no kidnapper, Charlie. I’m your bodyguard.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Your father hired me to protect you. I’ve been following you from the second you left home.”
It feels like the floor is falling from beneath my feet. “He—what?”
“You think your father would let you go exploring the world on your own?” he asks in a flat tone. “He wanted you to have a good time, but he wanted you to stay safe even more—so I’ve been two steps behind you the entire time.”
My chest heaves, fury and humiliation twisting inside me until they’re indistinguishable. I can’t wrap my head around the fact that all this time, I was still in my dad’s shadow, under his control.
“You bastard!” I shout, slamming my hand against his chest. “You had no right—”
“I had every right,” he growls, leaning closer. His grip tightens, his face inches from mine. “There are active threats against your father, and that wasn’t just some random stranger at that club. Without me, princess, you’d be in some real danger by now.”
I shiver at his words, but whether it’s from the danger he speaks of or the way his voice sounds when he calls me princess, I don’t know.
“Don’t you dare call me that!” I say, my voice cracking. I try to shove at him again, but somehow my fingers grip his shirt and pull him closer. “I hate you!”
Something dark flashes in his eyes and before I know it, his mouth crashes down on mine, hard and demanding. I freeze at first, shocked to my roots. Then my body reacts of its own accord, pressing closer into his body, one hand sliding up his firm chest and around his neck.
He makes a sound deep in his throat as he drags his mouth away from mine, down my jaw and up the side of my neck until his lips are resting over my earlobe.
“Stop fighting me, princess,” he whispers in my ear, his voice sending shivers through my body. “Please…”