So many answers.
Was he going to hit me? Rape me? Kill me before stuffing my body in the basement of this clearly dilapidated place?
Way to stay optimistic.
And then he grinned as if he’d just won the damn lottery because I’d agreed to his stupid-ass deal. But I didn’t care, because I felt like I had a semblance of control right now, even though I really didn’t.
He uncoiled all that hard male body from that tiny chair, and my insides clenched at the sight of his muscles bunching and flexing under his dark shirt and worn-in jeans. He reached into his pocket, produced the key for the handcuffs, and moved closer. I stared at that key, taking note to watch what he did with it so I could figure out how to steal it.
But then he froze and snapped his gaze to mine. “Donna try to run,” he said in a deep, gravelly voice that did uncomfortably good things to my otherwise dormant libido. And we wouldn’t talk about that rough Scottish brogue that had my parts twisting in feminine appreciation.
God, he was close. So close.
I inhaled sharply at how near he was, my nostrils getting a concentrated hit of whatever gloriously dark and wild scent he was throwing off.
I watched as the muscles in his biceps flexed when he lifted his arms and moved his hands toward the handcuffs. I was transfixed for a suspended second at the way his flesh bunched and contracted, his tendons and sinew a stark contrast under golden skin.
He gently touched my hand, adjusting my arm slightly so he could get the key in the lock. I hissed as the metal dug against my rubbed-raw skin. Instantly this low growl left him, and I swore I felt the vibrations right to my core.
“I’ve hurt ye,” he ground out, and faster than I could anticipate, the handcuffs were off and he was moving away from me sharply.
I shifted up higher on the bed and watched him warily. He started pacing back and forth, running his hands through his hair, his voice low as he muttered in a different language. I felt this wild energy pouring off him, as if he were doing any and everything in his power to not lose control.
And why he felt the need not to lose control should have scared me. But as I stared at him, this concrete feeling settled into me, one I couldn’t understand but knew with certainty.
He won’t hurt me.
It was crazy to even entertain that thought, given that this man had kidnapped me, chained me to a bed, and had no intention of letting me go. But I knew he wouldn’t harm me as strongly as I knew my heart would continue to beat.
Darragh, you’re losing your damn mind.
I went for my bag with surprisingly quick and solid movements. I unzipped it and riffled through the inside until I found the phone. I kept my focus on him the entire time. Once I had my phone, I was surprised the screen lit up right away, but of course not surprised there was no service. I ran my hand over the spider crack in the corner.
“The bathroom,” I murmured. “Please.”
He stopped and glanced at me, nodding once, then took me to the bathroom. I was thankful he gave me privacy—even if it was in the form of not letting me close the door all the way. But it wouldn’t have made a difference because there was no window in this tiny bathroom, and no weapons that I had found.
Now that I was back in the room and sitting on the bed, I felt my anger rise up once more.
“People will be looking for me.” That was a lie. Only one person would care if I up and disappeared. Evelyn has to be starting to worry, since I didn’t call her before bed last night.
I glanced up at him, not realizing I’d been staring at my hands, and saw him stop suddenly, my body jerking backward on instinct. He was still several feet back from me, but he had this thunderous expression on his face, and strangely enough—once again—I knew it wasn’t something I should be afraid of. I knew that expression was solely directed at himself.
His gaze was on my wrists, and I realized I was slowly rubbing them, as if it was some kind of motion that calmed me. At this point I felt numb. It was as if everything suddenly revolved around this man.
His jaw clenched, the muscles flexing under the scrubbed skin. “I’m sorry,” he said deeply, his voice not sounding like his own right then. “I dinna think this out fully, didn’t plan things tae happen like this.”
I felt like he muttered the last part more to himself than as any kind of explanation to me.