Ruin (Rhodes #1) by Rina Kent

                             My fists clench, and I push away from the wall. Fury destroys my panic, sweeping my body like a raging volcano.

                             “I’m not done!” I yell, my voice translating the lava coursing through me. “I’ll fight until the last breath, you bastard! If you think I’ll let you hurt me while I beg and cry like a little girl then you’d better think twice. I won’t stop fighting until you kill me!”

                             Heat creeps to my neck and cheeks. My heart pounds in a thunderous rhythm, almost popping out of my chest. My hands resume shaking as adrenaline rushes out.

                             What have I done?

                             I provoked a serial killer. He’s going to butcher me before he kills me.

                             My gaze trails his way, but he says nothing. He remains in the same position as when I started my outburst. No reaction. Just a long irritating silence.

                             Exasperation takes over. It almost beats fear. Almost.

                             I hate it when people ignore me.

                             “Well? Aren’t you going to say anything?” To my surprise, my voice comes out squeaky and high pitched. The kind of annoyance I rarely let others hear.

                             He reacts then. I wish he didn’t.

                             For the first time since I met him, his eyes shine. Not in amusement or mischief. It’s more like in an intent as dark as their colour. He stalks towards me. Every step he takes adds an unwelcome heaviness to my chest. My heart pounds at a frightening speed, and the weight intensifies. Suffocating. Draining. Terrorising.

                             What was I thinking going against him?

                             He’s twice my size. Without my heels, I hardly reach his wide shoulders. His dress shirt does a poor job of concealing his honed muscles. If this becomes physical, I’m doomed.

                             My back hits something cold and solid. I’ve been walking backwards the entire time.

                             He corners me between his broad frame and the wall. I glance around for an object to hit him with. Nothing. Dammit.

                             Focus, Mae. Don’t move. He hasn’t hurt you yet.

                             If he does, I will fight. To hell with consequences.

                             His deep monotonic voice drags me from my thoughts. “What makes you think I will kill you?”

                             I study his features in search of an expression. There are only undecipherable lines.

                             “You won’t?” I ask, my words tentative.

                             “No, I won’t.” He pauses, his eyes never leaving mine. “At least, not yet.”

                             The stranger’s voice is composed. Polite. Posh even. As if we’re discussing horses and weather over a tea party instead of kidnapping and murder in a hideous basement.

                             “W-what will you do to me, then?” My heartbeat drums in my ears.

                             He leans close. Too close. Until his mint breath brushes against the side of my neck. A head-turning masculine scent of cedar and leather envelops me as his hand reaches for my head. I swallow when he lifts a thick blond strand to his face and takes a long inhale, seeming to record its smell to memory.