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She remembered the sting in her neck and wondered if she’d died. If Lyon had already exacted his punishment.
But no. When she slowly rose to a sitting position, she could feel the floors, solid and real, under her feet.
She took a moment to look around, her eyes skimming the polished bureau on one wall, the matching armoire on the other. There were two doors, one on the wall to the left of the bed, the other on the far side of the room, and the one on the far side of the room had an electronic keypad mounted on the wall next to it.
Where was she?
A glass of water stood next to a bottle of aspirin on the nightstand next to the bed. Seeing it sparked a burst of hope. Maybe Lyon had decided not to kill her after all. But then, why would he go to the trouble of tracking her all the way across the country, of kidnapping her and bringing her home?
Except he hadn’t brought her home. Wherever this was, it wasn’t the penthouse downtown, and it wasn’t the home she’d grown up in.
She reached for the aspirin and shook two into her hand, then swallowed them with the water. The water was cool and clear, and she was thirstier than she’d expected. She drank it all and her stomach grumbled with hunger. How long had it been since she’d had breakfast on the island? Since she’d ridden her bike into Eastsound the day before New Year’s Eve?
There were too many questions and no answers. She needed to get out of here, find Lyon or Alek or whoever else was beyond the walls of the bedroom.
She stood slowly, testing the strength of her legs. The room swum, her head pounding afresh. She waited a few seconds for her vision to clear, for the floor to feel solid under her feet.
She went to the window first, hoping for clues about her whereabouts, something to orient herself before she spoke to Lyon or Alek. But it was no help. The windows looked out over a tangle of unkept grounds, bright morning sun casting a net of diamonds over a snowy expanse of lawn leading to a thick copse of trees.
It was strange to see snow after being on the rain-drenched island in Washington, strange not to see the sea. She could make out nothing beyond the woods at the back of the property, nothing to either side.
Turning away from the window, she crossed the room and tried the door across from the bed. It opened onto a large outdated bathroom with vintage black and white floor tile, a deep-claw foot bathtub, a toilet, and an old-fashioned sink.
The house was old, that much was clear. Not Lyon’s style at all.
Her confusion deepened.
She used the bathroom and washed her hands, noting that a stack of clean towels had been left on the back of the toilet. Whoever had brought her here — Lyon, it had to be Lyon — didn’t want her to be uncomfortable.
That was something.
She returned to the bedroom and crossed to the other door, but when she closed her hand over the knob and pulled, the door didn’t give. She tried again, alarm rising in her body.
It was locked.
Her mind ran through the possibilities, but there was only one that made sense.
Lyon was keeping her prisoner.
She tried to reconcile the reality against the man she remembered. Not the man she’d first agreed to marry, a man called the Lion, his amber eyes glinting hard and cold with ambition.
The other man, the one she’d come to know in the weeks after their marriage. A man who could be funny, who admired her own courage while sheltering her in his big arms, who took her breath away when he touched his lips to her naked skin.
She turned to face the room, and this time something new caught her eye, something in the upper right corner of the room, facing the bed.
She walked toward it, chin tipped upward as she looked at a blinking red light, the tiny lens that could only be a camera.
He was watching her. Or someone else was. And whoever it was had made no attempt to hide it.
She pulled her gaze away from the camera and returned to the bed, sinking onto the edge of the mattress, running over her options.
There weren’t many. She could rattle the door knob, shout for help, call out to whomever might be beyond the room. She could try to escape, but the view from the windows made it clear she was on the third floor, and she somehow doubted the windows would be unlocked.
All of which left her only one choice.
She looked up at the camera and settled in to wait.
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