Page 55 of Stolen By the Billionaire
Other than her cow, horse, and cat, no one would miss Sarah if she were dead. She had no one left. When her parents had died, the lawyer had drawn up a will for her, too, and she’d left her farm to her surrounding neighbors to enlarge their properties because she hadn’t been able to think of anyone else.
Sarah nodded. “I’m sure.”
He walked into the office with her.
The light from the computer and window above illuminated the ropes he held in his big hands.
They weren’t stiff, prickly ropes used for roping cattle or the beige lengths used to hitch a horse to a trailer.
These ropes were . . . pretty.
Three of them were scarlet with metallic gold threads woven through the strands. The rest of the ropes were gold like they’d been spun out of Jason’s golden fleece.
They didn’t look durable at all, either. Just . . . pretty.
City people were weird. Even their ropes weren’t made for work.
Blaze said, “I’ll tie you with slipknots so I can release you quickly if there’s a problem. You won’t be able to yell, but if you say the word red, I’ll hang up the phone and free you within seconds. Is that all right?”
“If I won’t be able to talk, how will I be able to say the word red?”
He inclined his head like it was okay for her to ask questions. “You should be able to speak a little or at least make a sound. If I hear you say anything, I’ll assume it’s your safeword, and we’ll stop immediately. Is that acceptable?”
If he got her tied up, he wouldn’t let her go, ever.
One of the images that had been tormenting her for hours—during the car ride, flashes during dinner—hit her again: Charlie lying by the side of the road, blood flowing from a gory wound on his chestnut flank, his legs scrambling on the earth but unable to rise, and HowNow standing beside him because she would assume the human was coming to help them while that Easterner jerk with the gun walked toward them so he could shoot an animal.
She had to know if they were okay.
Sarah nodded.
“What word should you say if you want me to stop?” he asked, inclining his head like a teacher quizzing a student.
Sarah breathed, her voice rasping as a whisper, “Red.”
“Correct. Let’s begin.” He dropped the bundles of ropes on the desk except for one of the scarlet ones. “Stand, please.”
“Aren’t you going to tie me to the chair?”
“Not yet, and no talking. I’ll tell you what I’m doing, but no speaking from you unless I want a verbal response. Do you understand?”
“Yeah, I—”
One of his eyebrows lifted.
Oh.
Sarah nodded instead.
His voice was so low it rumbled. “Good girl.”
Sarah didn’t like how the praise made her feel warm and calm inside. She needed to stay alert for the possibility of escape.
“Move closer,” he said.
She took a few steps away from the chair toward the center of the room. Her legs wobbled under her like they might give out and flop her on the ground.
Blaze tied a small knot about two feet from the end of the scarlet rope and then another about eight inches farther down. “Raise your arms out from your sides.”
