“Trust me. You don’t want to find out.”
Jolie folded the shirt over her arm like it was already hers and went back to sorting, moving less like a frightened mouse now.
Archer gave her space, but he didn’t leave her alone either.
No one had been there for him—and he wouldn’t let that happen to her.
* * * * *
Jolie hovered in the doorway of an office, one hand curled around the frame as she took in the man behind the desk and tried to decide how cautious she should be.
On one hand, she was in some kind of hidden bunker with armed men who spoke in clipped code and controlled who came and went.
On the other, she knew enough about men and bad situations to believe these ones weren’t lying. They actually seemed to be military, not cult leaders collecting strays in the snow.
When she dropped into bed after her ordeal, she intended to wait until the place grew quiet to go searching for her phone. But the instant her head hit the pillow, she was out. She blamed it on an adrenaline drop or thawing out after hours at the top of that tower in a blizzard, but she never got a chance to search for her phone to study a map for her location.
After Archer brought her food, it seemed like the man would never leave her alone long enough to find her way to the one in charge.
Cannon looked up from some paperwork on his desk and leaned back in his chair, eyeing her. His mere size and presence were formidable, but instinct told her that to get what she wanted, she had to face him.
She took a cautious step inside. The concrete walls were lined with wooden bookcases that gave it a cozy industrial look.
There was no other indication this was a military base, not that she knew what they looked like. She didn’t see any credentials on the walls or medals or photos with the president. The lack of any proof these guys were who they said they were…made her believe it.
She faced him. “Sir?”
He arched a brow. “Cannon.”
“Cannon, sir.”
The corner of his mouth moved. “Why are you insisting on calling me sir?”
“You’re clearly the colonel.”
He smirked. “Commanding officer.”
“I’m just trying to be respectful, commanding officer. When can I call my family?”
His rugged, carved features looked like they could terrify the most dangerous enemy on the planet and they didn’t soften when he gave his response. “An hour after never.”
Her eyelids fluttered. “What?”
He didn’t soften it or give any other explanation. In fact, it sounded like the conversation was over.
She knew from raising small kids that if you wanted them to do something, you had to get on their level to negotiate.
She moved farther into the room and took the seat in front of his desk without waiting to be invited.
“I was on an adventure,” she started.
His gaze flicked to her face, dry humor sharpening his eyes in a way that made him look more dangerous and more human at the same time.
“And how did that turn out for you?”
Jolie could appreciate his sarcasm. She’d built her whole personality on the trait that earned her bigger tips in the restaurant, and worked equally well on teachers and doctors too.
“Could have been better. Because I’m here, obviously.” She folded her hands in her lap, working hard to keep from clenching them and giving away how nervous she was. If she could just explain, Cannon might understand.
