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What have I done?
I provoked a serial killer. He’s going to butcher me before he kills me.
My gaze trails his way, but he says nothing. He remains in the same position as when I started my outburst. No reaction. Just a long irritating silence.
Exasperation takes over. It almost beats fear. Almost.
I hate it when people ignore me.
“Well? Aren’t you going to say anything?” To my surprise, my voice comes out squeaky and high pitched. The kind of annoyance I rarely let others hear.
He reacts then. I wish he didn’t.
For the first time since I met him, his eyes shine. Not in amusement or mischief. It’s more like in an intent as dark as their colour. He stalks towards me. Every step he takes adds an unwelcome heaviness to my chest. My heart pounds at a frightening speed, and the weight intensifies. Suffocating. Draining. Terrorising.
What was I thinking going against him?
He’s twice my size. Without my heels, I hardly reach his wide shoulders. His dress shirt does a poor job of concealing his honed muscles. If this becomes physical, I’m doomed.
My back hits something
cold and solid. I’ve been walking backwards the entire time.
He corners me between his broad frame and the wall. I glance around for an object to hit him with. Nothing. Dammit.
Focus, Mae. Don’t move. He hasn’t hurt you yet.
If he does, I will fight. To hell with consequences.
His deep monotonic voice drags me from my thoughts. “What makes you think I will kill you?”
I study his features in search of an expression. There are only undecipherable lines.
“You won’t?” I ask, my words tentative.
“No, I won’t.” He pauses, his eyes never leaving mine. “At least, not yet.”
The stranger’s voice is composed. Polite. Posh even. As if we’re discussing horses and weather over a tea party instead of kidnapping and murder in a hideous basement.
“W-what will you do to me, then?” My heartbeat drums in my ears.
He leans close. Too close. Until his mint breath brushes against the side of my neck. A head-turning masculine scent of cedar and leather envelops me as his hand reaches for my head. I swallow when he lifts a thick blond strand to his face and takes a long inhale, seeming to record its smell to memory.
My eyes widen. My muscles freeze. All coherent thoughts evaporate.
What the hell is he doing?
When I’m about to freak out for real, he releases my hair and locks his dispassionate gaze with my baffled one. “That’s yet to be determined.”
“Aren’t you supposed to figure that out before you kidnap me or something?”
Oh. My. God.
Who the hell said that? That may be my voice, but that isn’t me. I don’t sass. Ever. Why would I experiment on someone who may kill me? Seriously. What’s wrong with me?
That’s it. I’m royally going nuts.
The stranger moves his hand and I close my eyes, expecting a blow. Instead, warmth erupts in my wrist as he wraps his palm around it, his fingers caressing the pulse point in a soft touch.
