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But, I don’t care. I keep formulating my plan of escape.
In the study, I get distracted by the floor to ceiling shelves empty of books, except for one lone copy ofGreat Expectations. Hm.
“Enjoying your freedom?”
A glance over my shoulder reveals Dean, in jeans and a gray t-shirt, resting against the door jamb, with his arms crossed.
“I'll let you know when I'm out of here.”
He pushes off the door frame. “Just so you know, you'd have more luck shoving a camel through the eye of a needle than getting out of here.”
“Yes, well, you always were a downer.”
“No, realistic.” He smiles, stepping into the room. “And no one can design a security system better than Xavier can.”
“I’d ask if you wanted to sit and chat,” I say, nodding to the two overstuffed club chairs, “but we’d need another seat for your ego.”
He chuckles. “I can see why he wants to give you back.”
His words sting, more than I care to admit, but remind me there is an end goal here which doesn't work out in my favor. Maybe Dean will unwittingly drop some useful info, if I can contain the sarcasm he always seems to bring out in me.
“You must be pretty good to get all this done in such a short amount of time,” I try to compliment him.
He perches his tall body on the chair arm. “What makes you think that?”
“One book on all these shelves. Must have been a recent purchase.”
“Pretty observant. Maybe I should hire you,” he says, dryly.
“Maybe you should,” I challenge him. “I'm smart. Not like everybody says, like dumb.”
He grins. “Did you just quoteTheGodfather?”
“Maybe.”
“Hey,” Krista, interrupts, “I was looking for you.” She stops just inside the door.
I am observant, because I don't miss the shy dart of her eyes to Dean or the way he rises slowly, sliding his hands in his pockets, practically looking like he wants to pounce on her. Very interesting. Love in Captivity. Maybe I should write a novel to put on these shelves. “Xavier said to order more supplies for you,” she informs me, “and I just need to know if there's anything different you'd like?”
Why does he insist on showing me the nice side of him? If he didn't care in some capacity, he wouldn't do this, right? Dean studies me, thoughtfully, and I try to shutter my reaction to her request. I don't want him to see my turmoil.
“I'll leave you two alone,” Dean says, crossing to the door. “Always a pleasure, Rhiannon,” he calls out over his shoulder.
Later in the afternoon,when I stand outside, deciding which way is the best direction to run, when the time arises, Xavier walks up behind me.
“What are you doing out here, Rhi?” his deep voice asks.
“Feeling the sunshine on my skin.” I lift my face toward the cloudless sky.
He steps beside me, both hands in his tailored-suit pockets. “There’s a plan in place,” he starts. “We’re…”
But, I cut in, “Save it. I don’t want to hear anything about what you and Dean have planned.”
He hisses, lowly. “You need to stop being so damn difficult.”
I spin to face him. “Difficult?”
“We’re leaving here tomorrow.”
