Chapter 6
6
Quinn
I press my ear to the door, rooted to the spot. After what feels like forever, the door to the suite opens, then closes, and I heave air into my lungs.
Now he’s gone, I can breathe properly again. I never noticed how still and small I’d made myself in his presence, but I guess it’s muscle memory. I have a persistent fear of occupying too much space in the world.
This is so bizarre. Things like this don’t happen to girls like me; I’m too ordinary. I’ve never been swept off my feet. Is this what it feels like? My mind flashes back to the bakery, the cold steel of Roman’s eyes, the authoritative way he commanded my every move.
A cursory exploration of the room turns up some soft suede sneakers, a light wool sweater, a couple of camisoles, and a satin slip nightdress.
I’m at a loss for what to do next, so I sidle over to the chair and pick up a pair of silk palazzo pants. They’re Gucci, but that’s not the biggest surprise the label has in store. Beneath the designer brand name is the size: a US twelve.
Did Roman guess my size? Or did he go rummaging through my belongings? The realization that the clothes are plus-sized just for me hits me with a mix of emotions I can’t quite fathom, but one is familiar, and despite being alone, I flush beet red.
I don’t need an audience to feel shame; it’s stamped on my DNA. I have too many past wounds that never healed.
A thought occurs to me, and I creep from the bedroom to the suite’s door. To my relief, I’m not locked in; it opens with a click, and I poke my head into the corridor.
Two men sit on the carpeted floor, playing cards, their guns at their hips. Bodyguards?
“Do you need something, miss?” one of them asks. He has a blurry tattoo on his neck.
“Um, no,” I say, intimidation reducing my voice to a squeak. “I’ll…okay, bye.” I close the door and lean against it, trying to gather my thoughts. My heart is pounding so loudly it’s a wonder they didn’t hear it.
I have my cell phone. If I was indeed a prisoner, Roman would have taken it from me, wouldn’t he?
No. He knows I have no one to call; he saw it in my eyes. And he made damn sure I knew the cops would be worse than useless.
It’s getting lighter now. I go to the window and rest my forehead on the glass, watching midtown get up for the day. It’s strange to be elevated above the streets, looking down on thousands of citizens as they scurry around, living their lives.
Of all the people who could have encountered Roman in the early hours, why did he find me ?
I can’t determine whether he’s a valiant knight in shining armor or the dragon holding me captive. The view from my tower is not clear. The memory of his gentle yet dominant touch lingers as a faint but undeniable tingle on my neck.
He’s dangerous all right, but is he dangerous to me ?
A digital clock on the coffee table reads seven a.m. It’s only been an hour since Roman barged into the shop and hijacked my life. Incredible the havoc one man can cause in sixty minutes.
With that, the stress crashes out of my system. There’s nothing I can do about any of this. I’m weary to my bones and too beat down to care.
I should shower and wash the bakery grime away, but my eyelids are growing heavier by the second. It’s all I can do to go to the bathroom and splash my face with water before stumbling back to the bedroom.
Of course, my door has no lock, but I’m too exhausted to worry about it. If Roman wanted to get in, no force on Earth could stop him, but I doubt my natural allure would compel him to visit me. I may as well sleep while I can, and when I wake up, it’ll be to a text from Jeanette telling me not to bother returning to work.
I strip to my panties and pull on a camisole before climbing into bed. It’s soft, and I sink gratefully into the mattress. It’s been a long time since I slept on something so comfortable. As I drift off, the memory of harsh voices fades, replaced by a sense of peace that pulls me under.
A nap, that’s all I need. A short rest to catch up.