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I gave him a smile that was all teeth. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”
He narrowed his eyes, keeping his hands on mine for a moment, then he let go and took a step back.
I didn’t waste any time unlocking my other wrist, though it was a bit more challenging than I’d anticipated. Bending down to release the shackles at my ankles wasn’t much better. Every bone in my body groaned with the move.
Hook reached out a hand. He probably meant for me to return the key, but that fucker wasn’t getting off that easy. I grabbed his outstretched hand and wrenched myself up, swinging as I rose.
He was fast, much faster than me, and managed to duck out of the way with my knuckles barely grazing him. To make matters worse, his grip on my hand didn’t falter. He used my own momentum to spin me, curling me into him and clamping his arms around mine. Ropes of hard muscle enveloped me and a massive, wholly inappropriate thrill shot straight to my core.
His breath on my neck sent a shiver through me. “We had an agreement,” he said, keeping his voice low.
“I said I wouldn’t stab you,” I ground out, bucking against him. “And I didn’t.” I tried to twist free, but those delicious bands of muscled steel were unyielding.
“I warned you not to try anything,” he asked.
I could hear the smile in his voice, and it just pissed me off more. “Let me go!”
“No.” He paused, holding me against his solid body while my heart rate notched higher and higher with every quiet tick of the unseen clock. “Here’s the thing: I don’t particularly enjoy being hit, and I would like to have a civil conversation with you, if you are, in fact, capable of civility.” He paused again, letting his words sink in. “So, how shall we proceed?”
“You can start by letting go of me.” I wriggled in his grip but froze when he sucked in a sharp breath. Something hard and long pressed into my backside.
“Unless you’re eager to find yourself chained up again, I suggest you behave.” His voice sounded different—strained—and the desire in the threat sent a chill racing through me.
But the moment his arms fell away, the rage inside me bubbled back to the surface. I balled my hands into fists and spun. I should have hit him with a quick hook to the jaw and a jab to the ribs. My body knew all the moves, but something in his expression stopped me.
Which just irritated me even more.
He lifted a brow. “Can we be civil now?”
Despite my better judgment, I took a step back.
“Then sit,” he said, turning his back on me.
Hook moved to the table and pulled the covers off a few of the dishes. When the smell reached me, my stomach growled audibly. I tried to ignore the flash of heat across my cheeks when he gave me a little smirk. His mood changes were truly jarring. Then again, so were mine.
“Do you have a preference, Miss Darling?”
Now he was going to be all overly formal?
Fine. Whatever. At this point, I was too hungry to care.
I examined the available food, but it all looked equally delicious. Except for the fish.Ugh. Why did people leave the head on fish when they cooked it?I didn’t want to look into the concave, soupy eye sockets of the thing I was about to eat.
“Anything but the fish.”
He put the silver cover over the offending dish. “Poultry it is.”
I sat stiffly, not allowing myself to show just how awkward I felt. He cut a large chunk of meat, then grabbed my plate and loaded it with a little of everything. When I reached for it, he shook his head and I let my hands fall into my lap.
The whole situation was weird.
He laid the plate in front of me, then set to work filling his own dish. I picked up the fork and checked around the table. “Do I not get a knife?”
“You won’t need one.” He dipped his chin with a little smile. “Nice try, though.”
“I wouldn’t stab you.” He gave me a knowing look. “I probably wouldn’t stab you. Right now. Is that better?”
“You’ve broken your word once, Miss Darling. I’m afraid that means trust is not something we share.”
