Page 41 of Captive

I fisted the edge of the counter, continuing to stare at the face glaring back at me. Nikolai was right. This wasn’t a game. This was the kind of nightmare where the boogeymen not only crawled out from under the bottom edge of closet doors and from under the bed.

They also lived and breathed in real time. The monster could be anyone standing on the street or shopping in a grocery store. There was no way of knowing. I had to stop acting like some misbegotten child and suck it up. That would be the only way I’d make it out of this alive.

Thank God I’d been smart enough to purchase soap as well as toothpaste and a toothbrush. The basic essentials of life.

Even though the water was lukewarm at best, just the feeling of the flow dousing my stringy hair, washing away remnants of the wretched moments was amazing. Suddenly, there was an overwhelming feeling of sadness, the intensity of my emotions absolutely ridiculous. But I couldn’t stop the flow of tears or the anguish pooling in my gut. Maybe I was sobbing out of frustration or maybe another rush of fear. Either way, I made a promise to myself that this was the last time I was going to allow myself to fall apart.

After gasping for air, I managed to force the ridiculous tears to stop, moving onto taking an actual shower, rubbing every inch of my body until my skin felt raw. I stood under the stream ofwater for at least five full minutes until the slight warmth began to fade. The second I turned off the shower, I pulled my arm to my nose.

My God. I could still smell his scent, the deep pine and utter masculinity that created an aura of manliness around him.

Groaning, I huddled against the side of the stall before realizing I’d forgotten to even look to see if there were any towels. What the hell was wrong with me? A rush of odd sensations encapsulated every inch of my body. I gritted my teeth then pulled open the shower curtain. Seeing the bathroom door swinging shut and clicking sent a wave of anger inside. How dare he come into my private space. How dare he act as if I couldn’t be trusted. How dare he…

I almost laughed when I noticed he’d made certain I had towels, soft plushy towels. What was he trying to prove? Why should he care?

After stepping onto the cold floor, I half expected he’d burst into the room once again. There was nothing but quiet. As I grabbed the towel, I couldn’t help but wonder if the man actually had a heart after all.

* * *

I’d been on my own for long enough that I wasn’t certain I ever wanted to share a space with anyone, including a boyfriend. I liked my privacy, coming and going as I pleased without being forced to tell anyone. I enjoyed the freedom of wearing pajamas all day long on my day off if I wanted to, forgetting about makeup for a few hours. And I adored sleeping late, snuggling under the covers.

There was no reason to be thinking that way other than the fact I’d been forced to share a space with a rugged monster. I had no idea what to expect. Were we supposed to share meals together? Did he expect me to be the cook as well as his maid? If so, the bastard had another think coming. He could fend for himself.

I’d purchased hiking boots and jeans, a couple of sweaters and a jacket. I certainly had no plans of dressing up, even if that would be appropriate. Nikolai didn’t deserve anything of that nature.

By the time I walked downstairs, almost two hours had passed. I’d purposely taken more time just to push his buttons. That was the bad girl in me, one that had always gotten me into trouble. Snorting, when I stepped onto the landing, the sight of the fire was more welcoming than I would have thought. Just seeing the licking flames, hearing the crackle of wood was comforting.

It was already moving past twilight, the last vestige of daylight and the warm orange glow the only light in the room. There was no sign of the brooding Russian. I headed into the kitchen, determined to find something to eat. Another surprise.

Either he’d purchased wine, or he’d found a bottle as well as a glass and an opener, positioning them on the kitchen table. There was also a bottle of whiskey on the counter. Interesting. Actually, a drink sounded damn good right about now, only I ignored the wine, heading straight for the hard liquor. At least whoever had allowed Nikolai to use the place had some supplies, including a wicked collection of rocks glasses. While there was no ice, none was needed.

The glass in hand, I moved by the fire, crouching down and staring at the flames. While the warmth felt good, that lasted less than two minutes. Where had he gone? He’d closed every drape I’d opened, making the house feel more like a giant cave.I needed fresh air. I chewed on my lip then couldn’t help myself, moving toward the front door. As soon as I opened it, I realized it was against the rules to leave the house.

So I stood in the doorway, obeying a man I didn’t even know, a man with two identities, two separate lives. A bad boy. A killer. A shudder skittered down my spine. I had to get over thinking about him as anything other than what he was. Inhaling, at least the scent of the forest was more powerful than the fragrance of the man. Then there was the odor of the wood burning. The combination was invigorating.

There was something very peaceful about the surroundings, a bright moon already in the sky, the stars brighter than I’d ever seen. After a few seconds, I realized the smoke wasn’t coming from the chimney or because of the open door. As I slowly turned my head, all I could see was the silhouette of a form in one of the two chairs on the porch and the burning end of a cigarette. Why the realization the man smoked seemed odd was beyond me.

After he flicked it over the railing, he shifted in his seat, sitting on the edge.

I had no idea what to say to him. Maybe he didn’t want to hear the sound of my voice.

“You can obey,” he said quietly.

My irritation was instantaneous. “That’s not fair and you know it.”

“Maybe not, but trust me, little pet; nothing in life is fair.” The tone of his voice was different, huskier than before. Even his accent was heavier, more guttural in nature.

“I’m not your pet.”

“That’s exactly what you are.” He chuckled darkly and I could hear the sound as he guzzled some of his drink. “You can come outside. I did a sweep of the property.”

I was prepared to walk back inside, but there was no reason to continue the push and pull between us. We were stuck here. Together. I closed the door and moved toward the railing, leaning over and studying the stars. “I didn’t know you smoked.”

“Old habit.”

“From your past.”

“Yes. It used to help ease the tension.”