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“I'm sorry, I'm sorry!” I crouch, reaching for her. “I'm so sorry. I didn't see you.”
“Why don't you watch where you're going?” A red-faced woman who must be her mother helps her to her feet and looks her over. “You're fine. Come on, let's go get you some hot chocolate.”
“I really am sorry.” My words fall on deaf ears, so I stand and look over my shoulder.
He's gone. He must have kept going. Maybe he gave up.
I should know better by now.
Like a snake striking, an arm shoots out from between the stalls to my left, and a gloved hand closes around my wrist. I don't have time to scream before he pulls hard, almost knocking me off my feet as he drags me away from everybody else.
I crash against the body beneath that coat—hard, unforgiving, but it shakes me out of my shock, and finally, I draw enough breath to scream.
A scream that goes nowhere once his other hand clamps over my mouth.
This is it. This is how I die. Locked in shadow with the man behind me, the man clutching me to him, watching dozens of happy people passing in front of me while only a few feet away, I'm in the grip of a stalker. Their happy laughter rings in my ears.
It’s the last thing I hear before slipping into darkness.
4
WARREN
She's perfect. Head to toe, every inch of her.
I can hardly hold myself still, sitting in this chair by the side of the bed, where I've been ever since I finished dressing her. The cheap, threadbare clothes in which I found her were entirely unworthy of her.
Now, she looks the way she should, wearing the cream-colored satin nightgown I chose for her when I shopped for the few essentials I knew she'd need once I brought her home. We can always fill out her wardrobe together now that I have her here.
There are so many things for us to do. So many experiences I can't wait to show her. The past few days have gnawed at me. Every minute spent away from her, a minute of sheer torture threatening to tear my soul to shreds. She has no idea the number of phone calls I placed in hopes of tracking her down until, finally, there was no choice but to wait for her at the employment agency downtown. Somehow, I knew she’d show up.
I would do it all again, even the sensation of my feet slowly going numb as I stood in the cold, willing her to arrive.
But that's not going to happen because she's here. “I'm never letting you go,” I whisper, stroking her golden locks, fanned across the satin pillowcase. I can’t help but feast my eyes on her again. The satin molds itself to her lush curves, begging to be stroked.
Either my touch or my words stir her from unconsciousness. My heart catches, my entire body going still in anticipation. This is it. Like sitting at the top of the first hill of a roller coaster, anticipating the rush of what's to come.
Slowly, she opens those startling eyes of hers. I've never known anticipation like I feel now, waiting for her to put everything together. She stares at the ceiling, her gaze moving across it and toward the window. Her smooth forehead creases—confusion? Concern?—before she finally turns her head my way.
When our eyes meet, my heart threatens to burst from my chest. I have waited forever for this woman.
This woman who frowns as recognition kicks in. “You? I thought... What's happening?”
“You remember me.”
“Yeah, you're the guy who didn't speak up for me the other night.”
“I'm the man who had no choice but to let things unfold as they did.” Granted, not what I expected her first reaction to be, but I'm willing to accept it. She's confused, and I'm sure the chloroform I gave her after she'd already fainted has left her groggy.
“Where am I?” In the same breath, she asks, “What am I wearing?”
Immediately, she attempts to sit up as if she's going anywhere. I almost feel sorry for her, fighting to understand what to me is so plainly obvious.
“You're in my home. It took me all this time to track you down. The woman at the employment agency wouldn't give an inch.”
I can practically see the wheels turning in her head as she works this out. “You were the one looking for me. Why? I didn't do anything to you.”
“Do you think this is all because you offended me somehow? As if I would go to that sort of trouble over some perceived slight.”
