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“I’d pay to know what you’re thinking right now,” the guy said, bringing her attention back to him.
She frowned at him. “Trust me. You don’t want to know.”
“Yeah,” he grinned again. “I think I do. You zone out all the time, then get this scary look on your face. Makes a man wonder what’s going on that head of yours, blondie.”
“Right now I’m wondering if I have the guts to remove your fingernails to get you to talk.”
Of course, he laughed. Megan ignored him and studied the pristine white tiled walls. There wasn’t much else to look at. There were no windows in the bathroom, and she’d already snooped through the cabinets and the large antique armoire. All she’d discovered was that Josh had way more aftershave than one man reasonably needed.
“Any chance I can see the life-sized sex doll?” he said when he’d stopped laughing.
“Any chance you’ll tell me why you’re here?”
He shook his head, his eyes gleaming with amusement.
“Then I guess we’re both out of luck,” Megan grumbled.
His eyes crinkled at the corners as he smiled at her. She put his age somewhere in the early thirties, but his face had seen some living. It was tanned and lined from too much sun, and there was a small scar bisecting his top lip. Chocolate eyes with golden flecks almost hypnotised when you looked into them, even though they were perpetually amused. His nose was a tad too long, his cheekbones a tad too sharp and his hair was definitely far too short for his face. Basically, it was nothing more than a coating of brown fluff on his skull. Since she’d cut away his shirt, he was only wearing his suede jacket. The chocolate colour made his eyes pop and his shoulders bulge. His bulk would have been intimidating if he wasn’t tied up in a bathtub. Right now, Megan wasn’t thinking about how sexy he would be under different circumstances. She was thinking about her decision to remove his gag. Like every other choice she’d made since coming across the man, it had been the wrong one.
“Tell me why you’re here,” Megan said again. “Seriously, what difference does it make if we know?”
“A good operative never reveals his objective.”
She rolled her eyes. If the power had been on, she would have filled the tub, then plugged in a hairdryer and lobbed it in to keep him company.
“Who do you work for?” she tried again.
“Wouldn’t you like to know?” He sounded like a five-year-old.
“Well, duh, that’s why I’m asking. You didn’t get the brain in your family, did you?”
“Hey, I’ll have you know I have a college education.”
She looked at the width of his shoulders. “I bet it was in something really useful. Like football.”
The annoying man smirked at her. “You might as well surrender. You aren’t going to win.”
“This isn’t about who wins. People’s lives are at risk here. This isn’t a game.”
“Life is a game.”
“Ooookay.” Megan hauled herself off the toilet. “The gag is going back in. I can’t take any more of this. It’s like trying to hold a conversation with Yoda.”
“Happy to oblige, am I,” he drawled.
Megan reached for the gag when an explosion went off. The room shook. Another followed. Megan held on to the sink.
“What the hell?” the captive said. The amused look was gone, and in its place was the intelligence and focus of a trained killer.
“Someone blew up the snowmobiles,” her mother shouted. “I think Matt is here.”
“The guys are here?” That was Caroline’s voice. “Are we sure? How do we know for sure?”
“I can’t see anything else,” Heather Donaldson said. “It’s all smoke and snow out there.”
“I don’t hear anything either.” That was Kirsty.
“Caroline, get on the intercom. See what you can find out.” Joe sounded intense.
