The sudden thought that he was taking her to a room, alone, woke Elise up faster than a bucket of ice water being dumped over her head. Digging her feet in, she pulled against his hold, which tightened considerably in response. “I’m fine. I’m awake now.”
“What are you doing?” There was confusion in his voice, followed quickly by realization. His hold loosened, but not enough for her to break free. “I’m not going to hurt you,” he promised, his voice softer than she was used to. “If I wanted to, I would have already done it. Just sleep, okay?”
Elise hesitated, wondering how much, if any, trust she could place in him. He was her captor, and she was still blindfolded, her every movement monitored. Violence was a constant concern, and yet, she wasn’t getting that panicked feeling in her gut that should come with imminent danger. Her intuition was either taking a holiday, or it was telling her that she needn’t be worried.
While she couldn’t understand why, Elise was inclined to feel it out and see what came next. She could get raped or murdered…or she could simply be led to a bed and catch a good night’s sleep.
Not that anyone in their right mind could ever sleep in a hostage situation, but she was willing to try. Even now, she could feel the fingers of sleep upon her brow, her shoulders, weighing down her legs. She was exhausted, physically and mentally.
And Manhandler had made her a promise.
Reluctantly, Elise nodded. “Okay, but no funny business,” she warned. “I might be blindfolded, but I took self-defense. I won’t go down easy.” Shehadtaken self-defense. Once. She’d shown up for the classes, meaning to see it through, but when she realized she’d have to be paired with strange men and over a dozen people would be watching her make a fool of herself, she’d turned around and walked right back out again. She hadn’t even called to ask for a refund. Anxiety and shyness was a bitch.
Manhandler chuckled softly and ushered her along. “I’ll make sure to behave myself.”
She kind of wished he wouldn’t. Which confirmed that she’d snapped and finally lost her damn mind. What kind of person became attracted to their kidnapper? It was too early for her to claim Stockholm Syndrome, so that just left insanity. Or the sex drought. She hadn’t had a close encounter of the penis variety in far too long to be healthy.
Well, she wasn’t about to start withhis!
A door creaked open, and Elise felt the air change as they stepped into another room, the musty smell of dirt and dust thicker than in the rest of the place. Spinning her around, Manhandler gave her a gentle push, and Elise plunked down onto the edge of the bed, its springs screaming in protest as she bounced and fought against rolling backward into the center of the mattress.
“This thing must be ancient,” she commented without thought.
“I’d say seventies, at least.”
“Seventy years?” Elise screeched in disbelief. She almost leaped clear off again, considering what manner of filth it must harbor.
“Seventies as in what decade it’s from,” Manhandler clarified.
“That’s not much better.”
“Suck it up, buttercup.”
And so she would. Elise glared behind her blindfold at him, hoping he could at least feel her indignation and resentment. Except she hardly felt it herself, so he probably couldn’t either. Drat. She was a piss poor hostage. Where was her fire? Her raging sense of self-preservation? That snappy attitude all the fictional heroines in her plethora of romance novels had?
Left all that back in Neverland, she thought to herself. A self-deprecating smile began to form. Elise had never been much of a fighter. Just a sad and lonely girl living in a lonely world. Blah, blah, blah.Guess I’ll go eat worms.
“Whatever you’re planning, don’t,” Manhandler said in a calm manner that belied the threat inherent in his statement.
Elise wiped the smile off her face instantly. “I’m not planning anything.”
“Right.” He didn’t sound convinced. “Let’s keep it that way, shall we?” His hand smacked her thigh, startling her. “Lie down. Get some sleep.”
Elise eased herself down onto her side, grimacing as she thought of all the critters that were probably living among the blankets and within the mattress. God, was the pillow even safe to touch? “Where will you be?”
She heard Manhandler move around to the opposite side of the bed, and when he sat down, her body rolled to meet him in the middle. “Right here, buttercup.”
Elise gasped, scrambling for the edge of the bed—as far from him as possible without defying his orders.
“What,” he said with a laugh. “Did you really think I was going to leave you alone in here, so you could get up to mischief? Not hardly.”
That wasn’t exactly what she’d been thinking, but Elise would have done some snooping around, maybe searched for an exit. Not that she expected either man to leave her in any position to get them into trouble. They seemed to be one step ahead at every turn. Turns that were few and far between.
Elise froze in place as he settled in behind her. Releasing a little groan of approval, he shocked her to hell and back when he grabbed her around the middle and hauled her back up against his chest. Breath puffing against the back of her neck, Manhandler said in a sleepy voice, “This is for your protection as much as it is mine. Don’t get any ideas, just sleep, and we’ll get along just fine. Deal?”
What could she possibly say? No deal? He had her right where he wanted her, leaving Elise no choice but to play the hand she was being dealt. Unable to make her voice work, Elise simply jerked her head in affirmation.
“Glad you agree, buttercup.” Within a matter of seconds, he was out cold, his arm a vice holding her in place. And Elise? Well, she wasn’t going to sleep anytime soon.