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He didn’t budge. He didn’t even look scared, damn him. “Then use it. Do what you have to.”

She inched forward. “Step aside!”

He tilted his head, exposing his neck. “You’d want to go for the jugular vein. An injury won’t slow me down. It won’t stop me from handcuffing you again. The only thing that’ll stop me is to go straight for the kill.”

“Don’t make me do this,” she said, hating how her voice trembled.

“I’ll give you this. One chance only. Come on, little witch. I won’t resist. Cut me.”

He was taunting her, testing her to see how far she’d go. All the damn way. She closed the distance between them and pushed the blade against his neck. “Open the door. Let me out.”

He smiled. “The only way you’re walking out of here is if I’m dead.”

Damn him! She could do it. She could snuff out his life. It was him against her, right? Self-defense. She pressed harder, until a thin red line appeared on his golden skin.

“A sharp drag to the left should do it,” he said, his gaze locked onto hers.

A swipe to the left. Easy. She couldn’t be the weakest. Her hand shook even more.

“Do it, Cle, or don’t, but make your choice.”

She applied more pressure. Still he didn’t move. Not even when a trickle of blood ran down his neck and into the collar of his T-shirt.

The sight of the blood shocked her. What was she doing? She couldn’t. She couldn’t do it. Tears blurred her vision, distorting his handsome features. She couldn’t kill him. How pathetic.

Her hold slackened. The knife hit the floor with a clang, a deafening sound in the silence. Strangely, she breathed easier, dragging greedy gulps of oxygen into her lungs. Her chest expanded when it should’ve shrunk, and the knot in her throat untangled when she stopped trying to hold back the tears.

Joss reached for her, but she jumped out of his way, backtracking until she collided with furniture. The table. A chair rattled. He was going to make her pay for what she did.

His gaze followed her as she ran around the table, his silver eyes smoldering. She made it to the other side of the room before he’d rounded the table. Flattening her body against the backdoor, she dragged her nails over the wood in an instinctive but futile effort of escaping her prison.

His footsteps fell softly behind her, but they echoed in her chest. How would he extract revenge? How would he punish her? She expected him to strangle or slap her, not to press his body against her, trapping her with her arms above her head against the door. He simply stood like that, with his chest against her back, until she stilled in defeat.

She pinched her eyes shut, waiting for the blow, but he only cupped his hands over hers.

“Shh,” he said, his lips pressed against her ear. “You’re safe with me.”

Was she? Promises were made to be broken. “I want to go home,” she managed through her tears.

He brushed his cheek over hers, grating her skin with the stubble. “You can’t go home.”

Sharp pinpricks grounded her in the moment with him. This wasn’t a dream. Nothing had ever been more real. The admission weakened her knees. She’d failed. Failed to escape. Failed Erwan.

When her body sagged, he gripped her hips to hold her up.

“I can’t let you go home,” he said. “It’s not safe.”

Exhausted from her outburst, she didn’t have enough energy left to argue when he picked her up and carried her to the table. Instead of lowering her into a chair, he sat down and pulled her into his lap. She tried to wiggle free when he cradled her head against his chest, but he only pressed her closer.

The act was soothing, strange coming from her kidnapper. The strong, steady rhythm of his heartbeat drummed against her ear. Slowly, her erratic breathing evened out. One by one, her muscles relaxed.

“What’s wrong with me?” she whispered more to herself than him. It wasn’t like her to freak out like this.

He gripped her chin and tilted her head for their eyes to meet. “You’re having a delayed reaction to the shock. It’s normal, nothing to worry about.”

“Normal?” Nothing about this was normal.

“The tranquilizer works on your nervous system.” He spoke to her softly, patiently, as if to a child. “It affects your mind as well as your body. This afternoon when you woke up, you were placid and lethargic, but now that the drug has worked itself out of your system and your mind is more acute again, you’re having a delayed reaction to the events of the last few hours. It’s not uncommon to have a breakdown.”

His tenderness only angered her more. He’d abducted her. He had no right to be kind. “With or without drugs, I’d say I’m allowed a breakdown under the circumstances.”

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