Page 40 of Captive

“What are you doing?” I asked, although I wasn’t even certain I’d whispered the words.

He ignored me at first, shoving his hand into one of the remaining bags and grabbing the bottle of alcohol he’d purchased. Then he grabbed the roll of paper towels, his eyes never leaving mine as he ripped the package open. Every move he made was methodical, pulling off several of the towels and running them under the kitchen faucet. After he turned to face me, he shook his head.

“You’re as stubborn as they come, Chloe.”

They were the only words spoken before he gently rubbed the wet towels against the deepest scratches. For some reason, I was shocked just how tender his actions were, the brutal man’s touch more like a soft caress. When he grabbed the bottle of alcohol, he took a deep breath.

“Thank you,” I managed.

“This is going to sting a little.” He cracked open the bottle, giving me a hard look before continuing, pouring a generous amount down the length of my leg.

“Ouch!” I was shocked that another series of tears formed in my eyes, the flash of pain more than I would have anticipated.

He waited for a few seconds then pressed the towel against my leg. “You need to take care of this. Don’t fight me on it, Chloe. The last thing you want to do is to have it get infected. I’ve seen what can happen. Trust me. Not something you want to go through.”

“Okay.” Why did the words ‘yes, sir’ almost pop from my mouth? Respect was earned, not forced. And at this point, all the respect he’d gained from his intense prowess as a professor had ceased to exist.

But this was… unexpected.

His breathing remained scattered, the veins on the side of his neck pulsing. There was no denying our attraction, the pull far too strong. He took another look then tossed the towels into one of the bags. “I’m going to make a fire. It’ll be dark soon. We’ll need to eat.”

The statement was so perfunctory, but I could feel his intense draw, could tell what he was thinking. “There’s some meat in the freezer.”

“Whatever you want.”

“What I want is to go home.”

Huffing, he eased me onto the floor, sliding his hands down to my hips. When he kept his hold, the pressure of his fingers sending shooting stars in front of my eyes, I resisted thetemptation, swallowing several times then managing to look away.

He seemed to crowd closer, shifting his hips back and forth. There was no doubt he was rock hard, his hunger as significant as mine. I couldn’t believe the heat radiating from his body into mine, the tender moment shared igniting the embers all over again. But the fighter inside of me refused to give in. I pressed my palms against his chest, biting back a moan threatening to give me away.

There was a silent moment shared, but another block of tension crept in and he pulled away, breaking the intense connection.

“We’ll figure it out. Select a bedroom. Let me know if you need anything.” He gave me a nod, his expression blank. After the heated intimacy, the girly side of me would have thought he’d acknowledge our connection.

Oh, who was I kidding? The man wasn’t a romantic. He was a killer.

“Do you mind if I take a shower?”

Nikolai barely reacted, although he wasn’t quick to answer. “Do as you wish.”

As I wish. Jesus, the man could be cold as ice in a few seconds.

With that, he started to walk out of the room.

I’d never felt such a frigid wave, as if the windows and doors had been yanked open. I slumped against the counter, clawing the cheap surface as I watched him walk out of the room. What in the hell was I supposed to do?

It wasn’t a question that could be answered easily or quickly. For now, I’d go along with the situation, trying to obey his ridiculous rules, although I didn’t know what they entailed. Exhaling, I grabbed the bags, shoving them into one of the boxes before leaving the room. He’d already gone outside, the clunking sound indicating he was gathering wood. I grabbed a few of the things I’d purchased, fighting with myself as I walked up the flight of stairs.

The second floor was even more oppressive, the darkness in the hallway creating another wave of apprehension. Maybe the quiet was too much to bear. I was used to noise, lots of sound from my CD player or small television, or the chaotic noises from the diner. Serenity had never been something I’d searched for. There were three rooms and a single bathroom, two of the bedrooms making me claustrophobic. At least they were adequately furnished with beds and nightstands, a lamp or two.

When I walked into what had to be the master bedroom, I was pleasantly surprised after switching on the light. It was obvious the location had been where the former occupants had slept. Everything was dusty, but that could be dealt with.

Plus there was a dresser to place my things. I wasn’t certain I gave a shit about his. In fact, I hadn’t paid any attention to what he’d purchased. The majority of drawers were empty, a few containing what appeared to be men’s sweaters. I shoved them aside, making the dresser my own, promising to dust the surface later. Then I moved into the bathroom, dumping the few toiletries, switching on the light then closing the door with a hard thud. What I wanted more than anything was privacy.

As if I could keep the man out.

After everything that had happened, as I stared into the chipped and weathered mirror, all I could do was laugh at the way I looked. Raccoon eyes. A rat’s nest for hair. My clothes were dirty, smudged with whatever stains I hadn’t paid any attention to. My skin sallow. Hell, there was barely any light in my eyes, the fact I’d almost been abducted and killed finally settling in.