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Travis looks as if he’s deep in thought, and I watch his beautiful virescent eyes glimmer in the light above. I’m beginning to feel a tad dizzy, and I can’t decide if it’s from the pain medicine or the effect Travis is having on me with his handsome face, close proximity, and caring demeanor.

I reach my hand out, searching for his, and gently grasp it. I can’t decide the real reason why I touch him; maybe it’s that he’s providing me comfort in such a dark and scary time. For some unexplainable reason, he makes me feel safe, and I’ve only known him for half an hour. It also might be the fact they didn’t want me hurt, and they care in their own sick and twisted way. I feel so spellbound by Travis. I don’t need any medicine or drugs; this man seems to be a drug himself, in a whole other class of his own, putting the pharmacy business to shame. My mind’s perception of pain seems to be quelled easily by his voice and tender touches alone. He’s the perfect distraction to a horrible night.

“How are you feeling now? Is the pain medicine starting to kick in?”

“Oooh, yeeeaaah,” I say, drawing out my words long and slow.

He chuckles at my response. “Get some more rest. I’m going to stay here for a while to make sure you’re sleeping comfortably before I leave.” Leave? I don’t want him to leave. Instinctively, I grip his hand a little tighter, keeping him hostage with me. He must get my message; misery loves company.

He pats the top of my hand gently. “Don’t worry; I’ll stay right by your side until you fall asleep, okay?” He leans forward and kisses my forehead, his tender lips lingering on my skin. I feel my pain easing away from the kiss of his lips, along with my mental faculties. I’ve been so immersed in my pain and this man’s ministrations I keep losing focus on the who, what, where, and why of my abduction predicament.

This should not be the normal response to a hostage situation. Maybe they’ve drugged me with something else. Who the hell knows? I know it’s dangerous to paint Travis in a different light, but I can’t help but think he cares in some bizarre way. I’m sure I’m in the first phase of dealing with this traumatic experience, which is denial.

Confused and exhausted about everything and anything, I quit fighting the drugs. My eyes grow heavy, and I feel Travis caressing my hand he’s still holding. The medicine begins to take hold as my eyes flutter closed. I sink deeper into the pillow with comforting thoughts of the man keeping watch over me. I welcome the escape, knowing when I wake up again my life will never be the same.

CHAPTER FOUR

~Travis~

Sitting by her side, unmoving for the next half-hour, I watch her fade into a deep sleep. She looks so peaceful laying there, breathing softly. I’m just glad her windpipe isn’t damaged. I have been up half the night taking care of her. Every whimper that comes out of her mouth, I find myself bolting from the sofa, rushing to be by her side to check on her. She never wakes up since she’s drugged, but her body still screams with pain and anguish in her sleep. Hell, it’s going to be a long day; I can feel it. The lack of sleep will only add to my irritable mood. I am still pissed over the fact our men had roughed her up; they could have handled the entire situation differently. I shake my head in disgust, thinking that sometimes the smartest of men could be so stupid.

My God, she really does look every bit the part of a princess, straight from a storybook. Her long, dark lashes fan out across her sleeping eyes; she has prominent cheekbones, petite features, and beautiful, golden-spun hair that must reach halfway down her back, spilling out over the comforter. Her skin is smooth and creamy white, not like some girls her age who already have crow’s feet at the corners of their eyes from too much sun. She is enchanting me, even in her sleep.

When she woke up earlier and my gaze locked onto her powder-blue eyes for the first time, it caught me off-guard. There was static electricity that existed between us, and it could not be denied. I had only felt that once before in my entire life, and I can’t afford to ever entertain that feeling of connection with another ever again. I won’t allow it; there is too much at stake now. Too many painful memories from my past would begin resurfacing, and I can’t risk them floating to the surface, exposing my emotions. This line of work is cutthroat. If one didn’t stay on their toes and watch their back at every turn, they would find themselves six-feet-under in the blink of an eye.

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