Chapter 7
Chapter seven
ILIANA
Though the stranger seemed more confused than threatening, Iliana’s body didn’t get the message. Her legs trembled, and she didn’t know how much longer she’d be able to keep from falling to the floor. She straightened, fighting the terror clawing at her.
She wouldn’t let it win.
There had to be a reason she had woken up in this man’s home. Except she could only think she’d been kidnapped.
The man stretched out on the couch, utterly at ease, his gaze half-lidded. As if her presence meant nothing. Yet, two mugs waited on the coffee table, steam coming off them.
Had he been expecting someone else? Or her?
And heaven help her, he was beautiful.
The thought came unbidden and unwelcome, penetrating her fear. His tousled black hair suggested he’d just rolled out of bed. His bronze skin gleamed in the low light, and his shirt clung to defined muscles, even though he was relaxed.
She hated that she noticed. Beauty didn’t make him safe. Monsters wore beautiful faces all the time. She’d read enough true-crime novels to know that, and had promised herself she’d never fall prey to that facade.
He stayed silent, but his lips twitched slightly, as if amused. It only kindled her anger, pushing back some of the fear. Iliana scanned the room for a weapon. The room offered nothing—no lamp, no fire poker, nothing she could use to defend herself.
She had few options. Running wasn’t smart. She had no idea where she was, and her legs were weak. Fighting? She’d lose. He could easily overpower her.
That left talking. She inhaled, forcing herself to calm down.
After steadying herself, she blurted out, “I don’t know how I got here. Honestly, I’m seconds away from losing it.” She cleared her throat. “I just want to go home. Please. You’ll never see me again.”
When he still didn’t respond, steel crept into her voice.
“I don’t know why you took me, but I have nothing to offer you. No money. No family connections. Taking me was a waste of your time.”
“I didn’t take you.”
His voice was rich, with a hypnotic cadence, each word caressing her exhausted and strained nerves. The tension in her muscles eased against her will, and her breathing steadied.
She jerked back, shaking off whatever the hell that had been.
Focus.
“Then who did? Because I sure as shit didn’t come here willingly.”
The man shrugged, dismissive, indifferent to her fear or confusion. His apathy stung, making her feel invisible. Her anger spiked.
“Don’t you dare shrug at me,” she snapped, planting her hands on her hips.
She inhaled deeply, trying not to let anger cloud her judgment. She played his words over in her mind. He said he hadn’t taken her. Was it possible she’d sleepwalked into his house?
The thought creeped her out. She’d been having episodes for weeks now, waking up in places she’d never wanted to be, but those had been inside of her apartment or nearby, and never inside a stranger’s house. Never in his bed.
“I’m going to leave now. If you didn’t take me, you shouldn’t care if I go.”
She edged toward the door behind the couch, hoping it was the exit. There was movement out of her line of sight, but she ignored the shadow, keeping her eyes on him.
“I may not have brought you here,” he said. “But you won’t be leaving.”
That answered her question. If she didn’t move now, she might not get another chance.
She bolted.
He didn’t move. He just turned his head, tracking her as she ran toward the door.
She grasped the handle—but her body betrayed her. Her vision grew blurry, and her strength drained away.
No. Not now. Not here.
She tried to wrench the door open, but her hand wouldn’t obey. Dizziness slammed into her, legs giving way. She clung to the handle until her hold slipped.
Before she could hit the floor, he was somehow at her side, catching her in his arms. Lavender and chamomile surrounded her, the soothing scent pulling her farther into sleep.
The man murmured in her ear. “Better luck next time, little human.”
Human?
That was her last thought before losing the fight to sleep.