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I watched as he headed into another room, returning almost instantly with a duffle bag, which he pitched onto the ancient-looking wooden table just outside what appeared to be a kitchen. I inched closer, trying to keep from screaming given the increasing terror as he yanked out several weapons, checking them then slapping ammunition into each one. The man carried an arsenal with him, weapons of all sizes. There were at least two canisters, which I assumed were smoke bombs, a few grenades, and several knives. He positioned each one on the table, fingering one then the other as if assuring himself everything was in order.
After a few seconds, I headed toward the bathroom, ready to crumble into a ball. As I turned the light on, moving slowly toward the mirror, I realized the reflection staring back at me bore no resemblance to the one from two weeks ago. The girl with haunted eyes even appeared different than a few hours before, the horrible experience finally taking a toll.
I used the bathroom, washing my hands several times then finding a clean washcloth. My nerves frayed, I washed my face then placed one foot on the commode lid. That’s when I heard a rap on the door. “What?” I couldn’t hide the anxiety in my voice. I was far too drained to put up a front any longer.
Viper opened the door, taking a deep breath as he glanced down at my foot. “Come with me. I’ll take care of your injury.”
“I can do it. I’m a damn veterinarian.”
He chuckled. “That doesn’t mean you can take care of yourself adequately. Besides, we could both use a drink. God knows I can.”
I followed him, the question building. He pulled out one of the chairs, pointing to it. When I didn’t move quickly enough, he cocked his head, giving me an authoritative look. He’d removed the weapons, the duffle now on the floor. I obeyed him, mostly because I had no energy to do otherwise.
Every action deliberate, he placed a bottle of water in front of me, his stern expression remaining. “Drink this first.” The bastard waited until I screwed off the plastic lid, taking a sip. I hadn’t realized just how thirsty I was, gulping more than half. “Slow down. There’s plenty.” When he was satisfied that I could handle myself, he moved away.
Only a minute or two later, he placed a bottle of bourbon on the table and two glasses followed by antiseptic and cloths, as well as gauze. After pouring both drinks, he slid one glass in my direction, his eyes just as piercing as before. He took a swallow then moved in front of me, dropping to the floor.
I was shocked how gentle he was as he cleaned my feet, tenderly wiping every scratch and gouge. When he wrapped one foot, I winced, his head immediately lifting. “Mostly abrasions. You were lucky. I anticipated you’d need boots and other clothes for the trip. That will help.”
“You’re not going to tell me where we’re going. Are you?”
When he was finished, he tossed the rags onto the table, immediately yanking off his stained shirt and pitching it aside. As he reached for his drink, I was forced to suck in my breath. I’d seen several gorgeous men in my life, but most were coiffed and manicured, corporate hunks who spent thousands on their suits just to impress their clients. Every hair was always in place, their shoes polished. For some reason, I’d never found them particularly attractive.
But this man, this rugged warrior who’d obviously seen his share of battles electrified my senses, keeping my blood pumping at an irregular rate. I’d never seen muscles that seemed chiseled from stone, perfect in every dimension. And the black ink on both arms, scrolling up his light brown skin was an even more powerful aphrodisiac than his musky scent. I forced myself to look away, dragging my tongue across my cracked lips from the thought of licking his six-pack abs.
“We’re going to a private island in the pacific. That much I’ll tell you.”
I shot him a look, narrowing my eyes. “You were given no reason to keep me away from my family?”
“Affirmative.”
“Who are you working for?”
He took another gulp, eyeing me carefully. I watched his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed, my nipples tingling from being fully aroused. “As I told you, an organization of the United States government, but your parents requested the rescue effort.”
I couldn’t help but laugh, the nerves finally getting to me. “You talk like some politician. Just so you know. I doubt my parents gave a damn.”
Viper seemed to take offense to my statement, but his eyes held curiosity from what I’d said about my parents. Little did he know my mother was a real viper. “I have a job to do, Willow, and I’m very good at it. That’s why you’re alive.”
“Do you have any identification?”
He smirked then slammed his glass onto the table before walking away. I wasn’t certain if he was dismissing or ignoring me, but the lack of information was beginning to piss me off. “I deserve to know what the hell is going on.”
When he returned, he slid a laminated card in front of me. It said very little, although the stamp on the corner indicated the United States government. While his credentials were listed, a major in the United States Army, stationed in the 75th Ranger Regiment, only his moniker was listed for a name. “This could easily be forged.”
“Yep. It could, Ms. Cavanaugh, but it’s not. This is all I’m authorized to provide to you at this time.”
“When will you be able to provide me with more?” I pushed.
“When it’s necessary. If I wanted you dead or taken to the highest bidder, I would have done so by now. Your mother told me that you would be difficult and doubtful.”
I shook my head. “My mother is a complete bitch who knows nothing about me. What did she have to say, that my kidnapping embarrassed her?” Difficult. I was opinionated, refusing to allow my parents to control my life. My mother wanted me to follow in her footsteps, which I’d refused on several occasions. We weren’t close, which was why I knew the reason she cared didn’t simply have to do with the fact I was her daughter.
“A line from your favorite movie. ‘If you need to save someone, Clair, save yourself. Scrape ‘em off.’”
I shifted my gaze, taking several deep breaths. My mother actually remembered my favorite Christmas movie,Scrooged. I almost laughed. Maybe she felt guilty given I’d always felt like she was Scrooge, my father the only one in the family who cared about holidays or family traditions. However, no one else knew that was my favorite line except for my mother, although she’d made fun of me for it. “Fine.”
“Does that mean I passed a test?” he asked, his eyes now full of amusement. He poured himself another glass then sat down in the chair opposite me.
