Beg For Me by Sierra Cartwright

Chapter Two

“Go buy yourself a one-way ticket straight to hell.” In the darkness of the truck’s interior, Elissa glared at her captor. A minute ago, they’d pulled into a twenty-four-hour fuel stop, and he’d parked away from security cameras, in the shadows from the lights. Then he’d outlined his rules—rules she had no intention of following. “I mean it. There’s no way—no fucking way—that you’re going into the bathroom with me.”

As implacable as usual, he regarded her. “In that case, we’ll continue on. You can pee on the side of the road, but that won’t be happening until we leave I-70.” He lifted a shoulder in a small shrug, indicating he didn’t give a damn whichever decision she made. “Hawkeye would prefer we limit law enforcement contact, and that’s always a possibility if I pull over onto the side of the road. We should have our story straight. Could always say you’re my pregnant wife who couldn’t wait for the next town.”

With a gasp, she folded her arms across her middle.

During the twenty minutes they’d been driving, he remained mostly silent, responding to her questions with irritating-as-hell half answers. He refused to let her have her purse or her phone. Other than saying that they were driving toward his ranch and that it was located in Colorado, he hadn’t provided any further details.

“I don’t want to lose time. Make a decision.”

Commander Walker had already proven he was a hard-ass. Things were going to be his way or his way. Maddening.

While she didn’t need the facilities right away, it was only a matter of time. And this place, on the far western side of the city, was the last reliably clean restroom for miles. “Fine.”

With a tight nod, he reached into the back to grab a duffel bag. “There’s some clothes in there for you.”

“I’m not—”

“If you want to get out of this truck, you are.”

She wasn’t sure which one of them to kill first. Her kidnapper or Hawkeye. Either way, the act was going to be joyful.

“Time’s ticking.”

Elissa pulled out a sweatshirt and tugged it over her head. It was at least two sizes too large. The shoulder seams drooped down her arms, and the bottom would probably hit the tops of her thighs.

“Now the hat.”

At least she liked the black cap with a bright purple baseball team logo on it.

Once she had it in place, he shook his head. “Can you do something with your hair?”

“Like what?”

“Stuff it under there or something.”

Hurriedly she made a ponytail and threaded it through the opening in the back.

“Still too long. Recognizable.”

Elissa sighed as she removed the hat. “I’m not sure what else to do.” Thinking fast, she fashioned a makeshift bun and then took his advice and pulled on the hat. “No one does this. It looks ridiculous—lumpy.”

“This isn’t about fashion, ma’am.” He cocked his head to one side to study her. “Pull the brim lower on your forehead.”

“Look, Mr. Walker, I’m not cut out for this secret agent shit.” Which had been one of the many reasons she and Hawkeye never had a real relationship.

“Save your breath. I’m about out of patience.”

“You’realmost out of patience? It isn’t your life that’s just been turned upside down.”

“No?” The single word was quiet, but chilling. “Hawkeye gets what he wants.”

Did that mean he was as reluctant as she was?

She shook her head. He was an agent—she was his mission. Nothing more.

He tucked a few loose strands of hair away, brushing her cheekbone.

Her reactions turned sluggish as his scent washed over her.

For a moment, neither spoke. Something primal—dangerous—pulsed between them.

Then, as if remembering himself, Jacob cleared his throat and glanced away from her. “There’s a car pulling in on our left. Appears to have two occupants.”

The abruptness edging his voice made her scoot away a little.

“We’ll follow them in. Stay close. We want to make it appear we’re a party of four. Got it?”

She sighed. “Is this all really necessary?”

“The boss says so. If you’d agreed to have a bodyguard when he suggested it, you could have avoided all of this.”

Anger and frustration collided, making her vocal cords tight. “So it’s my fault?”

Instead of responding, he kept his focus on the other vehicle. “Be ready to move. When we’re inside, head straight for the ladies’ room. No stopping. Avoid the cash registers because of cameras. Don’t touch anything. I’ve got plenty of food and water for us, enough to hold us till morning.”

Are you planning to drive all night?

He kept his gaze on the car next to them. “On my mark, exit the vehicle.”

Despite her insistence that this was nonsense, her heart was beating furiously, and she was even paranoid enough to check her mirrors for potential threats.

“Ready?”

Elissa nodded.

The other couple opened their doors.

“Let’s roll.”

Within moments, they entered the convenience store.

“Normal pace,” he cautioned as they followed the signs toward the back wall. When they reached the bathroom, he held up a hand. “Wait here.”

Using his foot, he pushed the door open.

As if that isn’t suspicious.

After a few seconds, he returned. “Clear. Be as fast as you can.”

In record time, she rejoined Commander Walker.

The woman who’d walked in before them handed a package of potato chips to her companion, then started toward the bathroom.

He nudged Elissa down a different aisle, then hurried her back outside.

In record time, he topped off the gas tank before accelerating down the on-ramp, sliding into traffic at the exact posted speed limit.

As they climbed into the mountains, leaving the metro area behind them, he looked in the rearview mirror, then loosened his grip on the steering wheel. Until that moment she hadn’t realized how tense he was.

His phone rang, and Hawkeye’s name appeared on the screen that had been showing a map.

Without saying anything, Commander Walker pushed the button to answer the call.

“Phase one of Operation Wildflower is underway, I presume?” Hawkeye’s calm, almost cheerful voice filled the cabin.

“Operation Wildflower?” she repeated.

“I’ll explain it to you later.” Jacob slid her a glance before refocusing on the road and his conversation with Hawkeye. “Affirmative. Extraction complete. You already know that.”

“Fagan had a couple of things to say about our client and your, ahem, lack of diplomacy.”

“Stop with that word. I think you mean manhandling.” Irritated, she scowled. How dare they talk about her as if she weren’t there. “Actually the more appropriate term would be kidnapping.”

“Hello, Elissa.”

At one time, Hawkeye’s voice had been as familiar as her own, until she realized he’d never allowed her to glimpse beyond a carefully constructed facade that hid his emotional pain and broken pieces.

“Commander Walker is one of the finest individuals I’ve ever known.”

If she wasn’t so annoyed, the words of praise might have meant something to her. “Is that supposed to make this all better?”

“Besides myself, he’s the only one I trust with your life.”

At the jagged note of emotion in his voice, her shoulders rolled forward. Whether she believed she was at risk or not, he did. “I hate this cloak-and-dagger stuff.”

“And I hate that you’re mixed up in it. I’ll never forgive myself.”

Even though she wanted to be mad, she couldn’t be. But that didn’t give him—or anyone else—permission to upend her entire world. “You know what’s going on in my life, right? Let’s be reasonable.”

“Yesterday you refused.”

“I’ve changed my mind.” She blew out a wisp of breath. “Kayla is welcome to stay with me. I have an extra bedroom. And that way I can go back to work—”

“No.” The two men spoke in unison, making her rub her temple to ward off the growing headache.

She should have already been in bed.

“Everything is covered at the pub.”

Exhaustion evaporated. “What?”

“I talked to your parents and apprised them of the situation. They’re being provided with hourly updates.”

“How dare you?” Fury, white and blinding, flashed through her. She leaned forward, and the seatbelt grabbed her, preventing further movement. “What the hell is wrong with you? My dad can’t handle that kind of stress.”

“Patrick is stronger than you think. His only concern is your safety, and he immediately set about providing a solution to the problem. Your manager, Mary, says she’s feeling better, and she intends to return to work tomorrow.”

She exhaled her relief.

“Your dad was also able to get hold of Joseph. He’s agreed to take the day shifts.”

That news shaved the edges off Elissa’s biggest concerns. Joseph had spent a number of years working for them and occasionally still picked up a few shifts. He knew Conroy Pub almost as well as she did, and he had earned her trust. Still, she hated that Hawkeye had upended so many people’s lives.

As if he’d read her mind, Hawkeye spoke again, this time, more softly. “I know you’re not happy. None of this would have been necessary if you’d have cooperated when I asked you to.”

The same argument. Again.She sank back into the seat.

“There’s a package waiting for you at the ranch. Some shoes and clothes, along with a secure cell phone—you’ll be able to call your parents as soon as you arrive. You’ll also be provided with a Bonds computer.”

“Seriously?” Even though she wouldn’t admit it, she was impressed. Because of her demanding graphic arts business, she’d lusted after one for years, but she’d never had that kind of money. Regardless, that wasn’t the point. Right now, she needed her own equipment. “My software and files are on my desktop.”

“You’ll find everything already loaded on the new system. Bonds himself handled it.”

She blinked. “What? Are you kidding me? You actually know Julien Bonds?” The genius of all things electronic. “And why would he do something like that?”

“We go back. And he loves getting involved in other people’s lives. World-class meddler.”

Even after all these years, Hawkeye still surprised her.

“Everything that was on your machine has been loaded on to your new computer.”

“Wait.” God, no. Her pulse stuttered, and when she managed to speak again, her words were a croaked whisper. “All of it?”

“All of it.” Hawkeye cleared his throat. “Bonds said there was some kinky shit on there.”

Unable to breathe, she stared straight ahead into the abyss of an endless highway.

“Kinky shit?”

She sensed that Jacob glanced at her, but she didn’t look in his direction. Instead, she wished the vehicle’s undercarriage would open up so she could sink through it. No one had a right to look at her personal gallery, let alone comment on the contents.

“Elissa?” Jacob asked.

Desperately she searched for an explanation. “Those pictures… It was… Uhm… A project. For a client. Sworn to secrecy.” The lie was the best she could come up with. No way was she confessing—to either one of these men—that the images were created from her own line drawings and inspired by her own vivid imagination.

“Bonds said he was impressed, that you have real talent.” Surprise was etched in Hawkeye’s tone. Despite the time they’d spent together, there was a lot he didn’t know about her. “He suggested you consider showing it.”

Not even if hell freezes over and starts selling the ice. She would never reveal her most intimate self to the world.

“You’re welcome to get in contact with him. He has some recommendations.”

“Thanks, but no.” Even if she didn’t have her own hesitations, she doubted there was a gallery on the planet interested in hanging her kind of paintings. “Let’s get back to the previous conversation, please.”

“I’ll be in touch tomorrow.”

Of course the asshole of all assholes had continued talking as if she hadn’t said anything.

“I assure you that every resource is committed to this situation. Follow Commander Walker’s orders, and we’ll have you home before you know it.”

The connection ended.

“I hate him.”

In the darkness, her abductor looked at her.

“I hate this.”

“In your place, so would I. It takes a special person to be comfortable with this type of uncertainty.”

Jacob’s comments, uttered without even a ripple of emotion, intrigued her. “And you are?”

He was silent for so long that she wasn’t sure he’d answer. “It comes from practice.”

“Do you always speak so damn cryptically?” Like Hawkeye. Hadn’t she learned a lesson about trying to communicate with military men?

“It’s been safer that way.”

“Well, after this is over, you’ll never have to see me again, right? And it’s not like I’d tell anyone anything that you said.”

“The army teaches you a lot. At the time, I saw it as the only way out of a small town, the responsibilities of ranch life. I wanted adventure. You know, jumping out of helicopters, knocking down doors in a hail of gunfire.”

She angled herself toward him. “You did all that?”

“Yeah.” He shrugged “And more.”

“Did you like it?”

“Not as much as I imagined I would. The adrenaline? That’s fucking addictive. But I learned a lot that I never expected. Discipline. Patience—endless days, even weeks of waiting. Survival skills. Sleeping when I could, wherever I could. Eating even when I wasn’t hungry, existing on soup for days when it was the only thing available.” He adjusted one of the air-conditioning vents. “I learned how to make a plan and how to execute a new one when the first failed.”

“Like throwing me over your shoulder?”

“I asked nicely.”

“That’s not how I remember it.”

“Hmm.”

They settled into silence, and she turned over the events that had unfurled since Hawkeye had called the day before. If only she had made different decisions when he said she needed protection. But at the time, she hadn’t believed the threat was real. Even now, she wasn’t sure it was.

Some time later, the cowboy exited the interstate. “Don’t you think it’s time you tell me where we’re going? You have my phone, so it’s not like I can contact anyone.”

“The Starlight Mountain Ranch.”

“It’s yours?”

“Yeah.” He paused for so long she wasn’t sure he’d go on. “Fourth generation.”

More intrigued than ever, she turned as much as she could to face him. Too bad there wasn’t a little more ambient light so she could read his expressions. “And you live there with family?”

“It’s just me. I’m the last one.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.” Her family meant everything to her. Her dad’s recent health battle had only brought them closer together. She didn’t like to imagine a future without them in it.

“I’ve had some time to get used to it.”

“Is it a big place?”

“Depends on how you define that. Been added to throughout the years. The entire holding is around eight thousand acres.”

“And are you ever going to tell me where it is?”

“Not far from Steamboat Springs. About twenty-five minutes south. On Trout Creek, a tributary of the Yampa River.”

It was a beautiful area of the state, one she’d visited a few times. “We spent a couple of Christmases at one of the resorts near there.”

“Good memories?”

They were…a reminder of a time when life was simpler, when they’d been together as a family, away from the responsibilities of running a business, and they’d played cards and board games, worked a few jigsaw puzzles, then spent evenings sipping hot chocolate in front of a crackling fire. “That’s where I learned to ski and ice skate.”

“You might enjoy yourself at the ranch.”

“Vacations generally don’t include having a jailer.”

He glanced toward her. “Think of me as a protective friend.”

The way she’d already responded to him made that idea laughable. “I don’t even know who you are. I mean, beyond Commander Walker. Are you like Hawkeye, no first name, no last name?”

“It’s Jacob.”

“That’s nice.” Strong. It suited him. “Is it a family name?”

“No. It was one of my mother’s few contributions to childrearing before she disappeared from my life. Haven’t had any contact with her since…” He paused, as if deliberating how much to reveal. When he continued, his tone was flat. “It’s been a long time.”

“Oh God.” The more she knew about him, the more he wound his way into her emotions. To keep herself safe, she couldn’t let that happen. “That had to have hurt.”

“My grandparents made sure I didn’t miss her much.”

Was that true, though? “Is she still alive?”

“Yeah.” He set his jaw and turned on the radio, telling her the conversation was over.

Over the next hour and a half, she dozed, only to be jolted awake when he drove over a cattle guard.

“Sorry about that, Sleeping Beauty.”

She blinked and forced herself to sit up a little straighter. “I wish I could see the surroundings.”

“I’ll give you a tour tomorrow. Or, rather, later today.”

Jacob stopped in front of a massive iron gate. The truck’s headlights allowed her to make out an ornate W in the middle.

He pressed a button on the dashboard, and the entrance swung open.

They continued along a dirt road for several minutes before the house came into view, fully lit. The home, constructed from beautiful pine logs, was massive, with several different wings. Numerous cozy-looking chimneys climbed toward the sky. “This is stunning.”

“It’s big. Too big for one person. My great-grandparents had a large family. And they took care of the ranch hands. It was a gathering place.”

He pulled to a stop, and she gratefully climbed down from the passenger side. In the distance, the sun was casting its first rays, painting a few clouds pink.

Jacob grabbed his duffel bag before pressing a button on the remote to lock the vehicle. “After you.”

She climbed the five steps to the porch. A swing, covered in pillows, hung near the door. Two Adirondack chairs were angled so they faced the distant mountain peak.

It appeared to be a perfect spot to sit and read.

Which she’d probably have plenty of time to do. Her stomach twisted into a sudden knot of resigned annoyance.

A loud hiss ripped through the still morning air. She glanced back at Jacob. “Uhm, do you have mountain lions or something out here?”

“Or something.”

Suddenly, a massive animal leaped up the steps in a single movement, landing next to her. Screaming, she jumped sideways.

The creature crouched down, still hissing, staring at her. Contemplating if she was going to be breakfast? “Is that a lynx or something?”

“No. It’s a Waffle.”

“What is it, exactly?”

“A cat. Maine Coon, we think. She showed up one day as a kitten and refused to leave. We had no idea she’d get so big or be so loud. The vet says that breed vocalize more than others. Lucky us.”

“Interesting name.”

“Well, my housekeeper’s little girl dreamed it up because of the cat’s various markings. She looks like a waffle with syrup on it. And whipped cream on the nose.”

“I can see it.” For the first time in hours, her tension eased, and she smiled.

He shrugged. “Better than Pancake, I suppose.”

“You said you have a chef?”

“I like to eat, and I don’t always have time to cook.”

Waffle hissed again.

“She’s harmless.”

Elissa crouched, and the fur on the back of Waffle’s neck stood on end—then she arched her back and moved back several feet. “Harmless? Are you sure about that?”

“You could say she has an interesting personality.”

The moment Jacob stepped on the porch, the feline dashed toward him, then wound herself between his legs, rubbing and purring. “At least she’s got good taste in humans.”

Elissa rolled her eyes as she stood. “That’s up for debate.”

“She’s not fond of Hawkeye.”

“In that case, I like her more and more.”

With a grin, Jacob reached across her to enter a code on the keypad and opened the door. “Seven, six, three, nine, five, two.”

“What?”

“The security code.”

“You mean I’m allowed to leave?”

“Of course. Despite what you said, I’m not your jailer, Elissa.”

She frowned at him. “So I can go to Steamboat for a cappuccino? Maybe do a little shopping?”

“If I’m with you.”

Remembering the ridiculous maneuvers he’d gone through to protect her identity at the fuel stop, skepticism raced through her. “And you’ll take me?”

“Sure.” He shrugged. “Later in the week, if things remain calm.”

“That’s a carrot, right?”

“Meaning?”

“You know, management techniques. Carrot and the stick. Positive versus negative reinforcement. If you promise me a reward, maybe I’ll behave better.”

“Yeah. That’s it. You figured me out.” He studied her in silence.

Annoyingly, her feminine instincts stirred again. She blamed her exhaustion as well as the night’s extraordinary events.

After some sleep, she’d be herself again, back in control. There was no way her abductor could be this tempting.

“Go ahead inside.”

She took a couple of steps only to have Waffle dart past her. The animal jumped onto a nearby table, looked back at Elissa, and hissed again.

“Mind your manners,” Jacob told the cat before closing the door and dumping his bag on the floor. He stroked a finger between the cat’s ears, and she turned her head into his hand. “Ms. Conroy will be with us for the foreseeable future.”

The cat hissed, not seeming any happier with the news than Elissa was.

“I’ll show you around.”

At lightning speed, Waffle dashed away.

Elissa followed him to the inviting yet cozy living room with furniture arranged in a U shape. A large couch faced the flagstone patio and wide-open meadow. Another was placed in front of the oversize fireplace and television. She imagined sitting here and relaxing, maybe with a glass of wine.

Beyond it was a sliding glass door leading to the patio.

“The kitchen is through here.”

Maybe because he was a bachelor and the home had been standing for so long, she expected it to be dated. Instead, it was modern, with restaurant-quality appliances and gorgeous marble countertops. “I could spend days in here. It’s a chef’s delight.”

“Glad you approve. You’re exactly right. Eric designed it himself.”

“That’s your chef, I assume?”

“It is. He comes in a couple of times a week.” Jacob filled a bowl with cat food and placed it on the floor. From nowhere, Waffle appeared and delicately picked out a single piece of kibble. “He hopes I’ll start entertaining one of these days. Maybe open the house to guests.”

“Like a bed-and-breakfast type of thing?”

“I’d be the perfect host. Easygoing. Attentive as well as accommodating.”

For a moment she stared at him. “You’re joking, right?”

He held his neutral expression for a moment before his lips twitched.

“Was that an attempt at humor?” When he stole her away from her life, she’d seen him as a rigid, one-dimensional secret agent man. And then he’d revealed a glimpse of his childhood. The confounded cat liked him, and now this.

“Did it work?”

Elissa gave herself a mental shake. He might be more complex and vulnerable than she expected, but she was still here against her will. No way should she let her guard down.

“Help yourself to whatever you want. The housekeeper keeps the kitchen stocked with food and plenty to drink.”

Something to help take off the edge so she could fall asleep would be welcome. “Dare I hope you have wine?”

“Lady’s choice. Red or white?”

“Something crisp, a little sweet. Maybe a chardonnay?”

He pulled out a bottle from a small refrigerator tucked beneath the island. “Will this work?”

Elissa recognized the label and grinned with satisfaction. As far as being kidnapped was concerned, maybe this wasn’t so awful. “Do I thank you or Eric?”

“My experience with wine is limited. I’ve been told reds go with beef, while whites go with seafood or chicken. I have no idea about pink.”

“I think you mean rosé.”

“See what I mean? And then someone else told me to forget the rules and that you should drink whatever the hell you want.” He extracted the cork. “I know slightly more about whiskey, and I definitely have preferences when it comes to beer.” He offered her the drink.

“Thank you.” She took a long, leisurely sip. Now if she had a bathtub to soak in, life would be complete.

“I’ll show you to your room.”

She followed him up the stairs into a large bedroom dominated by an oversize bed. The comforter was thick and fluffy, and at least ten pillows encouraged her to bury in and create a nest.

“The closet is this way.”

On a shelf were two large boxes.

“As Hawkeye promised.” Jacob opened one and pulled out a cell phone and offered it to her. “It’s secure, and you can contact your parents at any time.”

Elissa put down her wineglass to accept the device. It was fully charged, and there was already a text from her dad, letting her know they’d been updated on the situation, had things under control, and were anxious to talk to her as soon as she was able to call.

The message reassured her.

She typed a quick response, informing them she’d arrived safely and would be in touch soon.

“Obviously we’d prefer you not tell anyone else your whereabouts.” Without waiting for a response, he continued the tour. “Your bathroom is over here.”

Her mouth fell open. It was massive, luxurious, spa-like with a sophisticated-looking steam shower, and her greatest wish had been answered—a soaker tub. A long white robe hung from a hook on the back of the door. This was as classy as the best hotels she’d stayed at. “Are you kidding me?”

A sudden grin transformed his features, making him seem younger, somewhat less formidable. Standing this close, in intimate quarters, arousal galloped through her. “I take it you’re not unhappy?”

This time, she was sure it wasn’t just the lack of sleep that was affecting her hormones. It was also a result of the alcohol’s slow burn.

Turning away from him, she cleared her throat. Unfortunately it didn’t help to tame her heart’s frantic response to his overwhelming masculinity.

She struggled to pretend this was a normal situation. “This is about the size of my entire apartment.” And she wasn’t sure she’d be able to return home after being cocooned in this kind of luxury. “Are you sure you haven’t given me the master suite?”

“I’m downstairs. In another wing. I’ll include it in tomorrow’s tour of the grounds.”

That sounded as dangerous as it was tempting.

“I’m sure you’ll be safe here, but that button next to the light switch”—he pointed—“is for emergency situations. There’s another on the nightstand. You’ll find them in every room of the house. I’ll be alerted twenty-four seven, no matter where I am. Don’t hesitate to use it. I’d rather it be a false alarm than take a risk with your safety.”

Hating the reminder of why she was here, she nodded.

“Sleep as late as you want. We’re not on a time schedule.”

“At this point, I might not see you until this evening.”

“In that case we’ll have dinner instead of breakfast. Good night.”

He left, closing the door behind him.

She remained where she was, listening for his receding footsteps. They never came.

A full minute later, she toed off her shoes. She contemplated falling face-first onto the bed. But there was no way she could sleep in the clothes she’d worked in, traveled in.

A yawn overtook her, and she decided to take a shower rather than a bath since it would be faster.

Thoughtfully, a dispenser had been filled with shampoo, conditioner, and even lavender-scented soap.

After turning off the water, she wrapped her hair in a towel, then dried herself. Then, unable to resist, she snuggled into the warm, thick robe before crossing to the closet to see what Hawkeye had sent.

One box was filled with electronics, and the other contained her personal items. Cosmetics, hairbrushes, shoes, socks, jeans, shorts, tops for every possible temperature, jackets, sports bras, panties…

Dear God. Let it have been Kayla who’d gone through her dresser drawers.

Elissa dug to the bottom and found no pajamas.

No doubt it had been Hawkeye who selected everything. Damn it.

From somewhere close, the unmistakable rumble of Jacob’s voice reached her. Curious, and hoping she could borrow a T-shirt, she left the room.

Down the hallway, a light blazed, and she walked toward it. Like a moth to a flame?

When she found Jacob, she froze.

He was seated behind a console, and in front of him were numerous large screens split into sections that contained a video feed. Most of the images were of the outdoors—the gate, dirt road, driveway, front door, sides of the house, and the patio. Others showed pictures of the home’s interior, including the kitchen, living room, entryway, and a bedroom with a king-size bed with navy blue comforter. His?

“Elissa.” He spoke without looking toward her.

How did he know she was there?

He tapped an icon and removed his headset. “Is there something you need?”

“Have you been spying on me?” She dragged the robe’s lapels close together, as if that would protect her. “Are you some sort of sick pervert who gets his jollies out of something like that?”

“No.” He spun in his chair, but he didn’t get up. “To both of your questions.”

“Oh.” She exhaled her flare of indignation.

“Come here.”

She didn’t want to. Shouldn’t. “I—”

“Come here.”

Because of that tone, uncompromising in the same way as it had been when he’d tossed her over his shoulder and kidnapped her, she moved toward him, stopping when she was in front of him.

Even though he was seated, he radiated an aura of command, and goose bumps chilled her arms.

“Your opinion of me is clear. And somewhat unfair. You have a certain degree of privacy while you’re my guest.”

At that, she scoffed. “Guest?”

“Use whatever term you prefer, Elissa. But I guarantee you this—if you were my prisoner, things would be different.”

She took a step back, but he prevented another by snagging one of her wrists with his massive hand.

“There’s a room near mine. A whole lot less pleasant than the one I gave you. I spend a lot of time on the range, and I know a thing or two about ropes. It’d only take a few seconds to tie you up, maybe secure you to a bed.”

Jesus. She shivered. What the hell was happening here? His words sparked fantasies, turning her insides molten.

“Or maybe you’d like that?”

Desperately she snatched her wrist away from him.

“This”—he turned toward his command post and pointed to a blank section on one of the screens—“is the feed from your room.”

“Oh.” What else did she say to that and her wild accusation?

“I don’t spy on women, Elissa.” He cocked his head to the side to look up at her.

He was close enough for her to be frighteningly fascinated by the pulse ticking at his temple. She’d either pissed him off or insulted him. Perhaps both. Maybe she should apologize, but in these extraordinary circumstances, she couldn’t find the words.

“Believe it or not, I only associate with women who are willing.”

And no doubt there were plenty of them. Not only was the man an alpha—he was gorgeous, protective, and apparently rich. “I shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions.”

“Thank you for that.” The furrow between his eyebrows eased. “Apology accepted.”

That was it? For two years, she’d been involved in a relationship with a man who was quick to anger, for the smallest of reasons. She’d had to earn his forgiveness. One time, he’d given her the silent treatment for days before ungenerously doling out his attention again.

Her parents and friends encouraged her to leave him. Once she did, it had taken her a long time to realize he’d used his temper to control her.

That Jacob offered forgiveness quickly and unconditionally left her reeling.

“You sought me out for a reason, presumably?”

“I…” She exhaled. The reason no longer seemed important. Needing space, she took a step away from him. “Hawkeye forgot to pack my pajamas.”

“Hawkeye had nothing to do with it. The oversight was mine.”

“Yours?” He’d gone through her lingerie drawer? The realization left her breathless. Had his selection been random? Or had he deliberately chosen things that appealed to him?

“Sleepwear never occurred to me.”

Of course it hadn’t. “Why? I mean…”

“Hawkeye sent a small team to your apartment. I gathered belongings. A technician backed up your computer after verifying there were no viruses on it.”

“I guess I don’t need to mention that it was password protected.”

“A combination of your birthday and initials. Took about ten seconds to get in.”

She sighed.

Jacob swiveled to switch to another set of videos. “This is your front door.” He pointed to another screen. “And your street.”

It was strangely fascinating to see a neighbor walking toward his car carrying a coffee mug.

“There’s an app on your phone so that you can look anytime you want.”

“Are there any cameras inside my place?”

He shook his head.

Thank God for that. “Do you or Hawkeye have any other nasty surprises in store for me?”

Once again, he turned toward her. “All of these precautions are because you matter to Hawkeye. Other clients pay premium prices for this kind of service.”

“I’m supposed to be grateful?” Her life had become a surreal nightmare.

Rather than answer, he changed the subject. “Is there a reason you came looking for me? Did you need something? Companionship, perhaps?”

“Absolutely not.” Never from him. “I was wondering if you, maybe, you know… The sleepwear you forgot to pack. Do you have a T-shirt I can borrow?”

“Yeah. Of course. In my room.” He rolled his chair to the side, then turned and stood. “I’ll get you one. Or you can help yourself.”

Go in his room? She shook her head.

“I was heading downstairs anyway. Come with me.”

It made sense. The suggestion was innocent enough. But every instinct screamed against that. He might actually have strong morals, but she’d glimpsed the wolf beneath that polished exterior.

“You’re safe.” He strode past her.

Her senses ignited, and in that instant she recognized the truth. She wasn’t scared of him. She hungered for him. The power of her need terrified her.

When he started down the stairs, she followed, rationalizing that she was an adult. If he could behave, she could put a cage around her own attraction.

“This way.”

His private wing of the house had a different aura. The woods were darker, and so were the colors. There were no pictures on the walls, and that was when she realized the ones in the entryway and living room were of landscapes, revealing nothing personal.

They passed a couple of closed doors. Was one of them protecting the room he’d threatened her with? The one she wouldn’t want to stay in? “Were you kidding earlier? About ropes and such?”

“As you’ve noticed, I don’t joke often.”

She shivered.

Without hesitating, he continued through the open door of the master bedroom. After a misstep, she went in after him.

A gigantic four-poster bed barely took up any space. French doors opened to the patio, now bathed in soft morning light. Again, there were no pictures or clutter. It was stark. Sterile. As if he had no past, no present, and wanted to leave no mark on the world.

Or maybe she was being fanciful.

“All of my clothes are in the closet.” He tossed his keys on top of a nightstand. “Help yourself.”

That seemed really personal, but so was wearing his clothes. “You don’t mind?”

“Not in the least.”

Because he organized with military precision, it took no time to find exactly what she was looking for on a shelf.

Clutching a black T-shirt in front of her, she rejoined him.

He was pulling off his belt, and he stopped when he saw her.

“I, uhm… This will work.” Heaven help her. Standing this close to Jacob in his room made arousal ripple through her, freezing her in place. Coming in here with him had been a horrible mistake. To save herself, she had to escape from his room. Now.

“You’re welcome.”

The sensual, intimate rumble in his voice short-circuited her brain cells, leaving her rooted to the spot.

As if compelled by the same madness that gripped her, he took a step toward her. “Elissa.” He cupped her shoulders, his touch as gentle as it was reassuring.

She leaned into him, anticipating, hoping…

“Jesus.”He took a breath and closed his eyes. When he opened them again, their gazes collided. She saw hunger in the dark green depths, combined with hesitancy and remnants of the pain she’d glimpsed earlier.

“We shouldn’t.”

He was right, but she thirsted too much to refuse him.

“You’re my client.” Possessively rather than painfully, he dug his fingers into her skin. “Mine to protect.”

His words fanned a feminine response she’d never before experienced. Her heart raced, and the floor seemed to sway beneath her. Jacob Walker was as dangerous as he was irresistible. And she had to know what he tasted like. “Kiss me?” It was an invitation as much as a plea.

“Elissa…” But even as he shook his head, he continued to hold her as if he’d never let go. “These are unusual circumstances, and your emotions are likely heightened.”

If the darkness of his eyes was any indication, he was not immune to her either.

“You might regret this.”

“I know what I’m doing.” The only thing she would regret was passing up this moment. “Kiss me.”

Fire flared in his eyes. Then, with a groan, he brushed his lips across hers.

The fleeting touch wasn’t enough. “Jacob…”

He drew her up onto her tiptoes and captured her mouth, seeking entrance.

This time there was nothing gentle about him. His tongue sought and found hers. Tasting of temptation, he staked a claim, feeding one hand into the strands of her hair to ease back her head.

In response to his silent demand, she opened wider, granting him the access he demanded.

As their tongues danced, her knees weakened. Desperate for the support, she reached up to entwine her hands behind his neck.

His arousal pressed against her soft belly. She was open, exposed, vulnerable in a way she never had been before, and for that moment, she was his for the taking.

The kiss went on forever yet ended too soon.

Before releasing her, he gently bit her lower lip, leaving behind a tiny sting that would remind her of this moment.

“You’re beautiful, Elissa. Everything I imagined.” He touched her swollen lips. “And now I need you to go to your room and lock the door. Or else I will tie you to my bed for the rest of the night.”

She gasped.

“Jesus.You have to leave.” He walked to the door and stood beside it purposefully.

For a shocking, horrifying moment, she considered disobeying him.

“Please.” His hoarse plea sounded as if it had been dragged through gravel, promising her he’d follow through with his threat if she didn’t leave.

Sleeping with her kidnapper would be insanity. She told herself it was the situation, or maybe the wine, maybe the lateness of the hour, but she’d momentarily lost her head.

Still, on her way past him, she paused.

“No matter what, don’t unlock your door for me.”

She shivered, as much from the threat as from the power of her own sexual response to him.