That false sense of hope rushed out of her like air from a balloon. Elise blinked back tears, refusing to show weakness in front of him. Instead, she pulled away, turned over, and drew the blankets up to cover her nakedness. She didn’t want to be any more vulnerable than she already was.
“I’m sorry if I hurt you,” Marcus said, making no attempt to comfort her. “I just want you to understand that it was sex. That’s all it was. It can’t be anything more than that.”
“It’s fine,” Elise lied. “I don’t expect anything from you.”
“Then why are you avoiding me?”
“I’m tired.”
“You’re a liar.”
“Go fuck yourself,” she spat, irritated with his correct assessment of her. She didn’t want to be transparent, especially to him. He didn’t deserve to see that part of her, the part that he’d managed to touch without her permission.
Or maybe she had given him permission without realizing it. Maybe that’s why she was upset now, because she’d allowed him access to a place that she’d wanted to keep locked away. A kidnapping and hostage situation was not, after all, conducive to a love match.
This just proved that Elise was not a one-night stand kind of woman.
No matter. She’d just have to relock that door and, this time, she was going to throw the key far, far away.
Stupid girl.
“I can go if you want,” Marcus offered. “If you need some time alone.”
“Don’t do me any favors,” Elise grumbled.
Marcus sighed. The bed dipped and then jiggled before springing back into place. Elise listened as he dressed. “I’ll go see about dinner. Get some rest. Maybe a little sleep will help you shake that attitude.”
“Again, go fuck yourself.” Of course she had an attitude, and it was entirely his fault. She might not consider him dangerous, but Marcus was a dick.
Why did she have to find that so damn sexy?
“I’ll be back in an hour. Make sure to put that blindfold back on.”
Elise bristled at his commanding tone. Gone was the warmth, and in its place was the cold, hard edge of the man who’d kidnapped her. She hated that blindfold. Hated being in the dark, unable to gauge her surroundings, unable to plot her freedom.
But it was better than the wrath that his partner would no doubt rain down on her if he found out she knew what either of the men looked like. He struck her as the kind of person who didn’t like loose ends.
***
Elise wasn’t sure when she’d fallen asleep, but she knew what woke her up—shouting. She could hear both men arguing, loudly, with one another from somewhere in the cabin. Unfortunately, the thick combination of plaster and log-style walls dampened their voices, making their words unintelligible.
Aware that she needed to be extremely careful, Elise quietly rose from the bed, easing her weight off slowly to avoid making the old metal springs squeak, and, clutching the sheet to her chest, tiptoed across the room to the door. Pressing her ear to the wooden panel, she strained to make out their words, to separate their voices, which fought to overtake one another.
“…screwing the bitch!”
“…nothing…with anything… It won’t interfere… won’t cause any problems!”
“….see your face!”
“…don’t know what you’re talking about! She’s…going to…anything!”
“…dead!”
Elise flinched and stepped away from the door. She may not have been able to hear everything, but she’d heard enough. They were arguing about her, and, she feared, about whether or not to kill her.
She needed to get the hell out of here. Now. She wasn’t about to wait around and find out what they planned to do with her.
Dressing herself, Elise searched every drawer and in the closet for anything she could use as a weapon, but the place was stripped clean, leaving her with no line of defense. She’d just have to take the chance and run at the first opening she got.