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I moan, savoring the taste. It’s prepared exactly the way I drink it.
“How?” The word comes out sharp and full of accusation.
He advances, and I scoot back on my butt. When Gideon is hovering over me, his eyes dark and unreadable, he speaks. “I did some research,” he continues in a low voice. “I needed to know what made you tick.”
“And coffee was the answer?” I lift one eyebrow in response.
“No,” he replies, his eyes narrowing. “But it was something that I could use to my advantage.”
He moves closer. His eyes flick over my body, and a smirk plays at the corner of his lips. “I know you can’t function without it,” he responds, as if he can read my thoughts.
“How would you know that, Gideon?” He shrugs, and my eyes narrow. “Have you been watching me?” My voice hitches, knowing full well that the smoke detector in my old room is most likely a camera, but it’s one thing to think it and another to confirm it.
The thought of this man, or any, for that matter, watching me in my own home is terrifying. What else could he have seen?
Everything.
“I have.” He doesn’t even pretend to care that he invaded my privacy in the worst way.
“Explain,” I demand, placing the mug of coffee on a shelf next to my makeshift bed.
“I wasn’t sure if I was going to keep my word to Roman. I didn’t even know you existed, so I had to learn about you.”
“Why?” I snap.
“To ensure you were even real. He was dying. I didn’t know if he was just talking nonsense. Like I said, I didn’t know he had a sister.” He runs his hand through his hair, tousling it in a way that only heightens his allure. “I found you and realized he’d kept even more secrets from me.”
I bite my lower lip, knowing all about the numerous secrets Roman kept. It might be the only thing this man and I have in common. We were both kept in the dark about so much that revolved around my brother.
“By the time I got to know you and ensured you were who I thought, I was running out of time.”
“Because of the ‘unknown threat’?” I air quote.
“Yes.”
“Which is?” My hand rises, twisting in the air for him to start elaborating. These one-word answers aren’t going to work for me.
“I don’t know,” he admits. “Roman didn’t elaborate, and so far, I haven’t found any concrete information leading me to a specific organization or person who would want you dead.”
His answer is depressing, and with nothing to say, I grab the mug and take another sip of the coffee. Mostly to keep from saying something that won’t help this situation.
“You can use my bathroom to freshen up.”
“I don’t even have a toothbrush,” I sneer, remembering that he’d brought me here against my own free will.
“I’ve taken the liberty of grabbing some of your stuff from your room. Your toothbrush is among the items.”
My nose scrunches, and my eyes thin to slits. “Yet more invasions of my privacy.”
His head shakes. “How so, firefly? What could I have possibly done now to have you up in arms?”
“You went intomyroom and gotmythings.”
He takes one threatening step forward. “You forget…One: this ismyhouse. Two: I bought you those things, Sasha. I’ll do as I please.” He turns around and is just about out of the closet when I yell to his back.
“And I don’t want to be here.”
He glances over his shoulder. “Tough. Get dressed. We’re heading downstairs in five minutes. You need to eat something.”
