Chapter 9
“You are going to remain here until I decide to tell Jared that I have acquired you for him.”
Acquired her? Like she was some piece of real estate? She glared at him.
“You can’t go around kidnapping helpless, sweet women!” she cried.
“Ahh, your bad ass period was short lived then?”
“It was not!” She knew it was now or never. She might never get another opportunity.
With a yell, she launched herself at him. It was risky. It was crazy.
But inside she was certain she could take him down.
Her certainty turned on her within about two-point-three seconds, which is approximately how much time it took him to overpower her and pin her down on the bed.
He leaned over her, his legs bracketing hers and his hand pressing her wrists to the bed. His free hand leaned on the mattress as he placed his body over hers.
Holy. Crap.
How was this . . . hot?
What was wrong with her? She wasn’t attracted to North, was she?
North was . . . scary.
She didn’t know what had happened to him between when she’d first met him until now.
But the guy was an emotional vacuum.
He didn’t even seem like he was a real person. He was a robot.
Terrifying and dark.
But right at this moment, she felt the urge to rip off his clothes, roll him onto his back and have her wicked way with him.
You are losing it.
You do not want North. You like Jared.
No, no, no.
She didn’t want to like either of them.
“I want to die an old maid.”
“What?” North asked.
“I want to die an old maid. I mean, I can’t. Since Fergus . . . well, I don’t want to talk about that.”
“No,” North said in a cold voice. “We shouldn’t talk about that.”
His tone and face gave away none of his feelings . . . but she almost thought . . . no, she had to be imagining that.
“Right. But that means I can’t die an old maid. I’m a ruined old maid.”
“First, you are not old. Second, you are not a maid. Third, you are certainly not ruined. And four, why are you talking like you’re eighty?”
Angie shrugged. “I don’t know. I feel eighty some days.” Sometimes it felt like she’d already lived three lifetimes. And she wasn’t sure how she could keep going. She was . . . flat. Out of energy.
“Fergus has only ruined you if you allow him to ruin you. So stop wallowing and prove that he didn’t ruin you. You can’t just lie around and feel sorry for yourself. Nobody is going to make life happen for you. You have to do it.”
“Right and the one time that I try to make a life for myself, to do something I want, some bastard kidnaps me.” Anger surged through her and she attempted to drive herself up at him, to knock him off her.
But he held still and all she managed to do was press her pussy and boobs against him.
She swallowed heavily.
Holy. Heck.
That felt far too good for her peace of mind. She searched for any sign that he felt the same. Any trembling in his arms, his eyes closing, his breath going faster.
Nothing.
He really felt nothing that she felt.
Well. That was embarrassing. At least he had no idea that she found him hot.
“If you’re done rubbing yourself against me, I will move off you and you can behave yourself.”
What the heck?
Behave herself? Why the heck would she do that when he was her kidnapper?
She figured that it was her duty to not behave herself.
Although maybe she should cooperate until Zander found her.
She pushed her head off the bed until her nose was close to his.
“No.”
An eyebrow twitched.
Hmm. Interesting. Given enough time she was certain that she could crack him.
“Very well. Things could have gone much easier if you’d behaved, though.”
“Easier than what? Than this? Where I’m pinned to the bed in a dark room without any light? With no idea if it’s night or day and nothing to do while talking with someone who has the emotional capability of a teabag.”
Okay, now she was talking herself into a panic attack.
“What are you going to do to make things worse? Deny me food? The ability to go to the toilet? Beat me?”
“I am not going to beat you. I’m not that sort of man. And I definitely don’t want any messes in here. You also look like a stiff wind would knock you over so I’m not going to deny you food. Did Zander feed you?”
“It wasn’t Zander’s job to feed me! He’s my brother-in-law, not my keeper.”
Actually, he was kind of both. But this asshole didn’t need to know that.
She was starting to think she’d rather deal with Jared than him.
Jared seemed more reasonable. And human.
“Do you bleed?” she asked.
“Yes, I bleed. What sort of question is that?”
“Just a question. I thought we should get to know each other since we’re going to be spending a lot of time together.”
“We will not be spending time together,” he told her. “I will bring you food and entertainment until I inform Jared that you’re here.”
“And when will that be?” she asked.
“I’m not sure. When I feel he needs to know.” He stood and dragged her with him.
She immediately kicked his shin.
The bastard didn’t even flinch.
But she did. In fact, she did more than flinch. She let out a howl as pain radiated up her leg from the agony in her toe.
“That hurts! Ow!”
“Then you shouldn’t have kicked me. With the same foot that you already used to kick the door. I am honestly worried that you are lacking in common sense. Zander should never have allowed you to live alone. You don’t have the sense that God gave a fly.”
“That’s not true! I know how to get out a door or window rather than banging into glass. I’ve definitely got more sense than God gave a fly.”
Pfft.
What did this guy know? Not a lot obviously.
Picking her up by the waist, he deposited her on the bed. Rather firmly.
“Hey, careful,” she said.
“Why? Did I hurt your bottom? Seems like a sore bottom is something that you deserve.”
What the heck?
“Was that a threat to punish me?” she asked.
“I don’t make threats, I make promises.”
Um. Okay.
That should scare you . . . not make you think about what it would be like over this man’s knee.
“But I wouldn’t worry. I’m not a disciplinarian, that’s Jared’s job. I prefer revenge to punishment.”
“Well, since Jared’s not here I guess my bottom is safe,” she huffed.
“Oh, I have a very good memory. I can tell him about every time you misbehave.”
“Um, no, you can’t. Because I’m being held here against my will. That means I’m not being held accountable for my behavior.” She glared at him.
“You are always held accountable for your behavior,” he countered as he held out his hand imperiously. “Show me your sore toe.”
“Nope.” Not happening. “I am not here to satisfy your foot fetish.”
“I am starting to regret kidnapping you.”
“Good.” She was regretting ever leaving Zander’s compound.
“I don’t have a foot fetish,” he told her. “I want to check on your toe.”
Oh. Okay, that made much more sense.
“You hurt it and now you want to check it?” she asked.
“You hurt your toe yourself. I didn’t make you kick the door or my shin. You did that yourself.”
“Because you kidnapped me!” she exclaimed.
“You can’t use that as an excuse for all of your bad behavior.”
Was he serious?
“I can when it’s the reason that I’m here. If I hadn’t been kidnapped by you, then I wouldn’t have needed to kick the door or you.”
“You didn’t need to do either. Neither of them gained you anything.”
“Maybe I gained a sense of satisfaction,” she grumbled.
“You gained a sense of satisfaction out of hurting yourself? Odd.”
She sighed. “You’re a very frustrating man-robot.”
“Man-robot?” he asked as though bored with the entire conversation.
“Yes, I haven’t decided which one you are yet.”
He just stared at her, his hand still outstretched.
“You’re not giving up until I show you my toe, are you?” she asked.
“That’s correct.”
With a grumble, she placed her bare foot into his hand.
“Your foot is frozen. And white.”
Angie shrugged. “Poor circulation.” She didn’t want to explain that the systematic abuse she’d suffered at the hands of Fergus had led to peripheral vasoconstriction which was triggered by fear-induced stress.
Like being kidnapped and locked in a dark room.
Yes, she was really good at hiding her stress and fear. Didn’t mean that she wasn’t freaking out on the inside.
Which was probably going to lead to some other lovely issues popping up. Like more headaches and dizziness.
Breathe in with your belly. One, two, three, four.
Breathe out. One, two, three, four, five, six.
It was a trick her therapist had taught her. A way to calm down her nervous system.
It could bring her down off the edge of a panic attack. And it helped her sleep.
“You should have told me you were cold.”
“I didn’t know one could tell one’s kidnapper that they were freezing their tits off.”
He shot her a quelling look.
Yeah, she was definitely getting to him.
“Not that I really have any tits.”
Did one of his eyes narrow slightly?
Instead he shook his head and didn’t reply. That was disappointing.
Wait. Was she enjoying sparring with him?
Shoot. Was there something wrong with her that she liked that?
When he pushed down on her toe, she hissed. “Ouch! What are you trying to do? Bruise it more?”
“I’m checking to see if it is broken. Stop being a baby.”
A baby? She wasn’t a baby! And that hurt!
“Show me your other foot,” he demanded, holding out his other hand.
“Why? So you can hurt it too?”
“I wish to check if this foot is swollen.”
She grumbled but held up her other foot.
“It is. I’ll get you some ice and some painkillers.” He carefully placed her feet down.
“Can you also get my phone, a pack of cigarettes and a bottle of whiskey?” she said.
“You smoke?”
“No. I don’t drink whiskey either. But I figure that if there’s any time to take it up, it’s now.”
Without another word, he turned away and left.
Well. That was rude.
Also, now she was lonely. Shit. Worry filled her. Maybe her plan to annoy him until he let her go wasn’t going to work.
Perhaps that would just make him more irritated with her.
Hmm. Had he locked the door? Getting off the bed, she crept to the door and tested it.
Drat.