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IVY
“What the fuck?” Ford growls as he scrambles from the bed, leaving me tied up and vulnerable.
From the corner of my eyes, I see him race toward the bedroom window, totally nude, before throwing open the drapery. His head swivels back and forth until his fist crashes down on the glass.
“Son of a bitch,” he roars, pounding the glass again.
His head falls and his shoulders slump.
“Not again,” I hear him mutter.
“Ford,” I squeak out.
He turns and once his eyes land on me, he rushes forward. “I’m sorry, princess.”
He hurries to untie my ankles and wrists, massaging them with his fingers. Once I’m freed, I stretch out my sore body.
“Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” I reassure him.
There’s a darkness clouding his expression, and I reach up and place my hand against his cheek.
“It’s you I’m worried about. Are you okay?”
His mouth tightens as he growls. “No, I’m not.”
He shifts away and sits on the edge of the bed. He runs his hand through his sweat-dampened curls and tugs at them.
“I never should have left the desert,” he mumbles before walking directly into the bathroom.
My chest tightens with anxiety. Does this mean Ford regrets everything, including me?
I wrap the top sheet from the bed around my body and head toward the suite’s second bathroom.
As soon as the water is hot enough, I step inside the shower and let the heat loosen my sore muscles.
“What do you think you’re doing?”
Ford’s appearance startles me, and I slip. Luckily, two strong hands stop me before I land on my ass.
“What the hell?” My breaths are heavy as I try to calm myself. “What do you think you’re doing?”
“I asked you first.”
“Showering,” I reply.
He steps forward, backing me into the corner. “Did you forget who you belong to? Where you belong?”
“I thought you wanted to be left alone,” I admit, cursing the quiver of my lower lip.
He steps back and closes his eyes. “I’m sorry if that’s what you thought.”
“Why don’t you tell me what’s going on?”
“I don’t know what’s going on, but I’m sure as hell going to find out.”
Anger is written all over his face, but also there is fear and regret. I cup his cheek with my hand. His thoughts are written all over his face.
