With a growl, Jacob suddenly threw Heather back to the cot, striding past Drake and joining Oscar and the others at the door. “I’m going to give you one more day,” he said, his voice vibrating with fury. “When I come back, you better have some information for me. If you don’t, I won’t kill you, I’ll kill the girl.”
He stepped back, and they locked the door behind them.
Drake bent over the table, his hands braced on the surface, his big body vibrating with tension. “I don’t have the answers he wants, Heather. I don’t know what the hell I’m supposed to tell him when he returns.”
Swallowing, she crossed the room to his side, placing one hand tentatively on his back and rubbing gently, trying to ease a little of his anger and frustration.
“I don’t understand it,” he said at last. “What kind of an idiot would kidnap me to find out something like that? Why would he expect me to know whether someone in one of our cells had given him up?”
“I don’t know,” she agreed. “You’re right. It doesn’t make sense. He must be an idiot.”
That at least was true. Nothing Jacob had done lately had made any sense. His entire plan had been foolish beyond measure.
“We have to get out of here,” he growled. “I don’t want anything to happen to you because I can’t tell them what they want to know.”
She shivered, tears stinging her eyes as she rubbed at her sore throat. She’d have bruises tomorrow. “It won’t be your fault,” she whispered. “No matter what happens... I don’t ever want you to think that.”
He turned and pulled her into his arms again, but this time there was no passion in it. This time, it was a comfort to both of them. In his arms, she could almost pretend that Jacob hadn’t issued an ultimatum that ended with her dying tomorrow. She could almost believe that Drake would actually find some way to save her from this mess she’d gotten herself in.
If she didn’t believe it, she’d go mad.
His hands stroked tenderly up and down her back, but then he paused. “I don’t know how you ladies wear all these layers upon layers of clothes. Would you like me to help you get rid of some of them?”
She frowned up at him, but he just smiled and held his hands up as if to show that he had no ulterior motives. “Please, just let me help you get more comfortable. I have a feeling it’s afternoon now, and he said he was giving me until tomorrow. I don’t think anybody’s coming back tonight.”
Biting her lip, she finally nodded. She was completely miserable, and it seemed the time for false modesty had passed. He’d already seen far more of her than he would if she loosened her stays a bit.
She turned her back to him, and he helped her shrug out of her tightly fitted jacket. Then he unfastened the back of her gown and loosened her stays with far more familiarity with women’s clothing than was probably decent.
“Why don’t you just strip down to your chemise and then get in bed?” he suggested. “I’ll turn my back if you like. You should really try to get a little more sleep.”
The temptation was too strong. The day had been mentally taxing, and the thought of taking some unfettered breaths and getting some much-needed sleep decided her. She was too exhausted to think about all this at the moment. When tomorrow came, they would both need to be ready. As he said, they might only get one chance to save themselves.
“All right. Thank you. That would be lovely.”
As soon as his back was turned, she slithered out of her stiff dress like a snake shedding its skin, removed the stays entirely, and then slid beneath the scratchy sheets in just her chemise, sighing in bliss at the freedom of movement she hadn’t had in days.
“Can I turn around yet?” he asked, a faint teasing tone in his voice.
“Yes,” she said, making sure the blankets were covering her from toes to chin, however silly that might be given the intimacies they’d just shared.
He crossed toward her and sat on the edge of her cot, a smile on his lips. “I don’t know why it gives me such pleasure to see you comfortable, but it does. May I take the pins out of your hair?”
She shivered and wordlessly lifted up on one elbow, bending her head toward him.
Humming some tune under his breath, he started picking out the pins, laying them on the bed by her hip, his hands surprisingly gentle as he worked his way through the heavy dark strands until it hung loose around her shoulders. He then ran his fingertips through it, working out the tangles gently. This was what she did for Allison every night. But no one had ever done it for her.
“That feels very nice,” she whispered, almost afraid that if she spoke she would ruin the moment, that he’d stop. She wasn’t used to being pampered, to feeling as though her comfort mattered in the slightest.
“I’m glad,” he murmured.
Silence fell between them once again for a while as he continued to play with her hair, but then he cleared his throat. “Has anyone ever told you that you have beautiful hair? It’s just as silky and soft as I imagined it would be. Like a river at midnight.”
Had Jacob ever told her that? She didn’t think so. In fact, she was hard-pressed to remember a single sweet word he’d ever given her and wondered once again what she’d ever seen in him. She shook her head. “No. You’re definitely the first.”
“That’s a shame,” he said softly. “You were made to be cherished, Heather.”
She swallowed. “You don’t have to bother with sweet words. I don’t expect anything from you, Drake. I was grateful to taste a little passion before... whatever happens.”