How could she be aware of his physique at a time like this? Or the masculine fragrance emanating from him, or the deep timbre of his voice?
She shifted again, trying to get out from under him, but her breath snagged in her throat as a thousand sensations flooded her, not all of them bad.
“Get off me,” she demanded through gritted teeth, glad she could at least give the appearance of indignation. Fear, though, was receding. If he’d come here intending to kill her, he’d have been able to do it by now.
“Not until you tell me who you are, little thief,” he growled. “Didn’t you read Goldilocks as a little girl?”
She glared at him, not keeping up.
“Making yourself at home in someone else’s place is a recipe for disaster.”
“Are you the big bad wolf?” she demanded, blood heating to boiling point.
“Wrong fairytale.”
“You can’t be Prince Charming,” she muttered.
“Definitely not.” His rebuke was swift, his body equally so, as he reached for her hands and trapped them above her head, holding them easily in one of his, so she was pinned beneath him, totally subjugated by his body, his weight. A shudder travelled the length of her body, not remotely unpleasant.
She writhed, telling herself she was only trying to break free from the immovable wall of his body, but deep down, she couldn’t deny the pleasure that was spinning through her, unwanted, unasked for, and totally shocking.
“I’m stronger than I look.”
His teeth were visible as he grinned, the lack of light still allowing her to make out the silhouette of his face, and her heart shifted into higher gear.
“Show me,” he invited. “Free yourself.”
She glared up at him, annoyed beyond words that he’d called her bluff. Strong she might be, but clearly, she was no match for him.
Nonetheless, she strained, twisting and turning, despite the way his hand pinned her wrists and his body held hers still. Every movement she made caused her to be achingly aware of him as a man, of his nearness and strength, so her breath burned hot in her lungs and her mouth was dry. Pride, though, was on the line. She tried to free a leg, to knee him once more, but he only pressed himself against her harder, making any movement impossible, and so she gave up, dropping back against the tiles, all but surrendering.
“Fine,” she grunted, out of breath, but not from her struggle. “You win. So? What’s your plan? Are you going to tie me up while you ransack the house?”
“I presume you’ve already beaten me to the good stuff?”
“And what makes you think I don’t live here?”
He laughed. “Nice try.”
“What? I’m not lying,” she said bravely, tilting her chin defiantly.
“What a pity for you that I happened along. You see, little thief, I know the owner, and you are not him.”
Her heart kicked up a gear. Was he making this up? No. This made more sense. Her brain quickly fired to connect the dots. He’d tried the front door, using a code, but she’d changed the code when she’d come to stay. But then, she’d told Benji, so if he’d sent this man here, why not give him the new entry digits? And why send him at all when she was in situ?
“If Benji wanted you here, he’d have given you the code to the front door.”
Now the man grew very still, his eyes watchful, dark and intent as they trapped hers. “You know Benji?” The words were cautious, as though he didn’t yet believe her.
“He’s my cousin,” she said crisply, injecting the words with as much hauteur as she could muster when she had what felt like a hundred kilograms of man muscle pressed against her. “And he offered for me to stay here after—,” the words died on her lips. “Recently,” she said instead, blinking away, the accident one she still grappled to come to terms with. She was lucky it hadn’t been worse. A fall like that could have cracked her femur, or even her tailbone.
“He’s my friend,” the man said. “And he made the same offer to me.”
Her lips parted. Surely this wasn’t some kind of set up. “I don’t believe it. Not when he knew I was here.”
“No,” the man sounded reluctant. “Some time ago,” Leonidas admitted. “It was a standing invitation. I left him a message that I was coming here tonight. He didn’t tell you?”
“There’s no cell service and I haven’t checked my emails,” she said, moving now, her pulse firing as his body continued to weigh down on hers. Rather than removing his grip from her wrists, he moved his thumb to softly brush over her flesh, sending sparks of electricity through her body.