Page 7 of Falling For His Captive

Tommy nods. “Then I suppose you want to sleep now.”

I don’t feel it, really, but it seems like the right answer to give. If I say yes, then he will leave – or so I expect. He’ll leave me here and let me rest, no more inquisition. “Yes,” I say, without thinking too deeply – though it’s strange how the moment I say it, I feel a kind of regret.

“Then I’ll leave you to it,” he says, getting up with that same fluid elegance. He extends a hand toward me, and it takes me a moment before I realize that I’m expected to take it.

As soon as our hands touch, I feel a jolt of electricity run through me. It’s as though he shocked me with a hidden buzzer. But it’s not that at all. It’s something else – something completely unfamiliar. In my shock, I can barely react before he pulls me to my feet and then releases me, staring down at me with a look I can’t decipher.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he says. A threat or a promise, I can’t tell. And suddenly, something catches in my throat. A request for him to stay.

I don’t know what it is. Maybe the touch of his hand combined with the danger of the situation, the stress of the day. But as he looks down at me, his dark eyes boring into me through his lashes, something grabs hold of me. A fervent desire – a need for him. I want him, I realize. I want him to stay and lay me down on this bed, and…

Where is this coming from? I keep my mouth firmly shut, dropping my eyes to the floor. I can’t want this. Not from this man, the man who kidnapped me, threatened my Dad. And even if I do – something I can no longer deny to myself thanks to the feelings surging in my blood, the way my veins feel like they’re filling up with stars – I can’t say a word.

It’s too forward, for a start. I can’t just jump on him like that. And even if I was to do such a thing, what would I back it up with? I have no experience. I can’t perform the way he might expect me to.

And he kidnapped me, for God’s sake!

I turn away, facing toward the bed so that the urge doesn’t tempt me anymore. I hear his steps moving away, hyper-aware of every sound, and then the door closes behind him. A short moment later, the sound of a key in the lock.

Tension floods out of me and is replaced by regret. I should have said something. I could even call him back – but no, I can’t do it. I turn off the lights and fall into the bed instead, not bothering to worry about my clothes. It’s not like I brought pajamas with me. I lay there, in sudden and unfamiliar darkness, and I can’t get the image of his eyes nor the feel of his hand out of my head.

I try to reckon what I would even have done. Told him to stay, then looked at him so intensely until he had no choice but to kiss me? In spite of myself, the thought of his kiss sends my pulse racing, makes me lick my lips, and shift uncomfortably. Heat pools in the pit of my stomach and my cheeks, burning as I guiltily continue the fantasy.

I imagine he would be forceful – that he would like to take charge. He would manhandle me over to the bed, lay me down, strip off my clothes. And, oh… how that would feel like. I brush my hands lightly over my breasts, the ghost of a touch, thinking about his hands there.

It’s almost too much to take. The heat builds up inside me as I imagine him leaning over me -

And I stop, rolling over to face the wall away from the door. This is so stupid. I can’t even finish the fantasy – I have no idea what comes next. I’ve never been that far, and I can’t imagine how it would feel, what it would be like. It’s a reminder that, next to him, I’m a kid. He probably has so much more experience.

I close my eyes and try stubbornly to sleep, hoping that by the time I wake up, I won’t find myself lost in his dark eyes anymore.Chapter SevenTommyThe determination that Carina will be mine doesn’t fade in the morning. It never will. I have my goal. Make her mine. And that starts with the first step, letting her know that she can trust me, that I’m a man of my word. That I will give her anything that she wants.

I’m awake bright and early, and I guess that she will be too, given that she’s used to having to wake up at such an early time. I take delivery of the things I ordered yesterday and set them up on racks and on a cart with wheels that my chef often uses to deliver food to various rooms of the house. That done, I enlist Enzo to push them along with me – and we move them upstairs, to the hall outside her room.

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