He lowers his voice in warning, but it’s strangled, as though he’s drowning out his true passionate response. “Because this job is important.”
“If it’s so important, then why let me get in the way? Huh? Why kidnap me?” I bite out. “Just leave me alone. Go be the dutiful brother and son and heir.”
A soft chuckle leaves him as he says, “You’re not a kid, baby. Ilady-naped you.”
“Don’t be cute.” I sneer with derision, not letting that masculine, deep chuckle caress me the way I know it can. Stop it from flowing into my heart and curling my toes with its husky, deep melody andfuck. . .
Growling my displeasure over my weakness for him, I continue, “You could have just left me to miss you forever. Fucked me like I am the only woman on earth for you and left me to yearn for you, like I have for over a decade.” My voice begins to wobble through weighted breaths. “I cried myself to sleep every night for years and years, hoping you would come for me. I gave up. I gave in. I thought you hated me.” I bite back the memories but feel them swarming me like bees, their painful stings embedding in my skin. “You must hate me to have done this to me. Why do this when you knew I’d hateyoufor it? Is this payback? For what I did?”
“Because!” he roars, opening his arms wide. “I was angry! Because the thought of him touching you made me crazy, because it is worse than your hate and I can’t concentrate on my job while imagining all the ways you were letting him fuck you.”
My heart jumps into my throat.
Blinking at him in disbelief, my pulse now an erratic tattoo between my ears, I watch him tighten and shake. He’s only ever yelled at me once before. . . And it reminds me of a dream I had recently. . .No, not a dream. It was the sound of his throaty cries from last night.
And his tears. . .
So many tears.
I suddenly remember the feel of them on my face as I drifted off. Looking at him now, my hands twitch with the need to hold him in his torment. The torment caused by the decision to violate my trust andfuck, I still want to hold him through it all. I fight that pull between us.
Taking a step backwards, I encourage further distance between us. His fixed stare drops to watch my feet shuffle. My rejection squeezes a tiny grimace from him, but instead of turning away like I thought he might, he takes large strides towards me until I am pressed between his chest and the wall of the RV.
I inhale sharply at the pressure.
As he removes the pan from my grasp, I glance down and see a distinct phone-shaped bulge in his pocket. I wonder. . . if I can get him to relax enough, if I’ll be able to grab it. I divert my eyes before he notices where my attention is.
One of his hands moves to grip my hip while the other meets my cheek. Combing his fingers through my hair, he lifts the long strands up, touching them to his nose. He closes his eyes as he inhales.
They flash open again, and their intensity pins me to the wall. “Are you going to run outside and misbehave if another car pulls up to this campsite, baby?”
Yes.I shake my head slowly. My hands ball into fists at my sides, duelling between the urge to either caress his chest or slap his cheek. “No. They could be just as dangerous as you are.”
A deep, gravelly laugh expels from him. Little nervous giggles burst from me, but I swallow them down, not liking how easily he drew them from me or how foreign they sounded.
“I assure you,” he mutters next to my ear, the warmth of his breath blanketing the skin along my throat. “They arenot.”
A long moment passes.
And I think about his phone. Think about who I would even call and how I would explain what happened. How I would explain I don’t want to call the police. That I just want to get back to Akila. To check on my patients.
And forgetheever came to Darwin.
Forget I love him.
“Baby,” he whispers, drawing me to him. “You’re hungry. I can tell. I’m going up to the top deck to make you something. I’d like it if you joined me up there.”
“We are not on holiday together, you nutcase,” I growl, arching my neck to glare at him. “We are-“
“Stuck here,” he says with a smirk. “Stuck together.”
“Forced. I was forced.”
“I regret nothing.”
Shaking my head slowly, I allow a knowing smile to pull at my lips. “I don’t believe that for a second. I heard you crying last night.”
“I wasn’t crying because I took you, baby. Or because I drugged you. I was crying because I had to.” Releasing me from the cage of his body, he pushes off the wall and steps back, eyeing me thoughtfully. “I’m barbecuing. And you are-” His phone chimes in his pocket and he beams brightly, his dimple creating a divot beside his boyish grin, and for a moment, he looks like my Bronson. “Sorry, baby. Gotta make a call first. I’ll meet you up there. Or I’ll come down and drag your sweet arse up those stairs myself.”