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Reason told her that was true. She’d been sleeping defenselessly all afternoon and he hadn’t harmed her. Nevertheless…
“Why did you bring me here?”
“Told you.”
“But I don’t believe it’s the truth. Not completely.”
“I can’t control what you believe. But you don’t have to be afraid of me.”
After a time, she asked, “Is Drakeland the nearest town?”
“No.”
“What is?”
“You’ve never heard of it.”
“How far is it?”
“As the crow flies? Twelve miles.”
“And by road?”
“Fifteen.”
“I could easily run that. Going downhill, that wouldn’t be a challenging distance for me.”
He didn’t say, Oh, for God’s sake, lady, you’ve got a concussion and can’t even walk a straight line, much less run one.
He didn’t say anything at all, which was more unnerving than if he’d cited how illogical that prospect was. His silence was also more menacing than if he’d told her flat out that she wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon, that he’d brought her here to be his sex slave, and that upon pain of death, she had better not be plotting an escape.
However, she did escape his opalescent gaze by closing her eyes. For five minutes, they shared nothing but a thick tension and the snapping of the logs in the fireplace.
In spite of her fear, her body was exhausted. On their own, her muscles began to relax. She sank deeper into the mattress. Her concussed brain dragged her toward oblivion. She was just this side of it when she jerked into full awareness. “You never told me your name.”
“That’s right,” he said. “And I won’t.”
* * *
Before going to sleep, Emory had set her alarm to go off two hours later, but the precaution proved to be unnecessary. Minutes before the alarm jingled on her wrist, he was at the bedside, his large hand lightly shaking her shoulder. “Doc?”
“I’m awake.”
“Have you slept?”
“Catnaps.”
“Does your head hurt?”
“Yes.”
“Want to take a couple of pills?”
“Not right now.”
He stood there for a moment without saying anything, then, “Do you need to use the bathroom?”
“Maybe.”
