by Julia Sykes
I frowned back at him, piercing him with a sharp glare.
After a moment, he rolled his eyes. “No shit, Claudia,” he corrected. Then he yawned widely. “Your antagonism is wearing me out. That can’t be good for my health,” he accused, but there was a lightness in his tone that suggested that he still found me amusing.
“That’s the oxycodone,” I said, trying to suppress a small smile. Despite everything, his easy humor was catching; his levity in the face of intense pain seemed to infect me. “You should rest more,” I said kindly.
“You’re a lot bossier than most of the women I find handcuffed to my bed, you know,” he said. He patted the bed beside him again. “Now sit down. Watching you stand there all tense is making me tired.”
“You should be tired,” I reiterated, but I found my knees folding as though of their own accord. Still, I was careful to position my body as far from Sean as possible, practically perching on the edge of the bed.
It didn’t escape his notice, and his eyes were mocking as he spoke. “I won’t bite you, you know.” Then his grin turned wolfish. “Not unless you want me to, that is. I’d be quite happy-”
“Not in a million years,” I said, cutting him off sharply. “Now, before you go off into some drug-induced lucid fantasy, let’s get something straight: You are not to touch me in any way. You may think that your eighth-grade flirting is cute, but it’s pretty fucked up considering that the only reason I’m in your bedroom is that you won’t allow me to leave. So whatever your perverted little mind is imagining, don’t let your fantasy include me as a willing participant.”
The predatory grin was gone from his face as though I had slapped it away. His expression darkened, the lines of his face drawing downwards. He suddenly couldn’t seem to meet my eye. “Claudia, I....”
“You what, Sean?” I asked angrily, hurling his name out like a curse.
“I’m sorry,” he said finally, looking up at me through his long, dark lashes. “I’m sorry I can’t let you leave.”
“But you can,” I said, desperation coloring my tone. “I promise I won’t tell-”
“You just can’t, Claudia!” He said harshly, his eyes snapping up to burn into mine. They were ablaze with an anger so intense that I scooted away from him as far as I could without falling off the bed. The man before me was so different from the flirty, arrogant boy I had seen only moments earlier; this man gave off an aura of power that threatened to overwhelm me. It frightened me almost more than Bradley’s gun.
But I refused to show how intimidated I was, so I summoned up all of my courage and met his furious gaze. “You should get some rest,” I said coldly.
For a moment, we were frozen, the strength of our wills locking us in place as they silently squared off against one another. But no, I wasn’t frozen; I was warm. The blaze in Sean’s eyes burned with something other than anger, a darker flame. It awoke an answering fire in me, and heat pooled in my belly, flames licked across my skin. The way that they danced over my flesh, contrasting sharply with the coolness of the air, made my skin pebble, and a small shiver ran through me. One side of Sean’s full mouth curled upwards, a cruel, knowing twist.
I didn’t know what was happening to me, but I knew that whatever it was, it had to stop. It felt too… good.
I jerked myself back, only just realizing that I had unconsciously been inching towards Sean’s sinful body, as though the heat in me was drawn to the dark flame in him.
He blinked as I snapped whatever was building between us, his eyes cooling as they filled with confusion.
“You should get some rest,” I said again. I meant to sound authoritative, but my voice was ragged with some strange emotion that I couldn’t identify.
“Claudia…” The way he said my name, with that alluring, enigmatic lilt, made me want to shiver again, but I resolutely held it back. He trailed off, not finishing whatever it was that he was going to tell me. I peeked at him out of the corner of my eye and noticed that his eyes were closed, his muscles tense as he took a deep breath. The act made his mouth tighten in pain, but he made no sound of discomfort. A little furrow persisted between his brows, but after long moments it eased, his breaths coming more evenly as his body relaxed. Despite the intensity of our altercation, the drugs had pulled him under as he had attempted to calm himself. And I was grateful for that.
What was wrong with me? I should feel nothing but hatred for this man who was holding me against me will; I certainly shouldn’t be feeling… whatever that was that he had made me feel. A shadow of the flames that had licked at me flitted across my skin as I looked down at his sleeping form. He looked… well, not harmless, but certainly not evil. Unlike Bradley, he did seem to care if I lived or died, but he was also fiercely insistent that I not be allowed to leave.
What had I witnessed that made me so dangerous? Well, for one, I could report Bradley for kidnapping me. And I supposed that for all of my promises that I wouldn’t tell anyone, I would probably turn on Bradley as soon as humanly possible. But what about Sean? Would I turn him over to the police? After he had saved me from Bradley? And why hadn’t he been able to go to the hospital in the first place? Why kidnap a doctor?
There was only one logical answer to that: Sean was a criminal. Potentially a dangerous one.
Something about the idea didn’t sit right with me. It was easy to envision Bradley leading a life of crime; he had proven his indifference for my life time and again. But Sean seemed… well, I wouldn’t say sweet, but at least humane. And passionately so. I thought of the intensity in his eyes when he had stared Bradley down, refusing to let him murder me. I had seen that intensity again just now, only when it had been turned on me, it did decidedly funny things to my thought processes.
And then there was the Sean who was a boyish flirt. I thought of how he had called me “gorgeous” and couldn’t help flushing in pleasure.
I shook myself quickly. Why was I reacting this way to my jailor? It was twisted and wrong; everything within me was telling me that I was rapidly developing Stockholm Syndrome, becoming attached to Sean because he had proven to be my protector from Bradley.
Besides, I thought darkly as my eyes roved over him again, it doesn’t hurt that he’s easily the hottest man I’ve ever seen naked. Well, I blushed, half-naked.
To be honest, I hadn’t seen any man in this state of undress since before med school. I was probably only so strongly affected by his physique because I had gone without sex for seven years.
Seven years. God, it sounded so pathetic when I thought about it in concrete terms.
I just haven’t had time for that, I assured myself, only making me sound even more pathetic.
I tore my eyes from him, forcing my gaze to fall somewhere – anywhere – else. The first thing I focused on was the window. Could I escape through it? Peering out of it, my heart sank as I realized that I was far too high up to leave that way, and there was no fire escape to climb down. It seemed that my only hope would be the living room window, and that would be guarded by Bradley.
Shit.
I sighed heavily. I guessed I would have to find something to occupy my time until I could devise a way to get around Bradley and get to that window.
I eyed the chest of drawers. I suddenly felt very unkempt, decidedly uncomfortable in the clothes that I had slept in. Maybe Sean had some sweats or at least a t-shirt I could borrow.
What, you want to wear his clothes now? I thought disparagingly at myself. But I’m a bit of a neat freak, and I was uncomfortable in my rumpled shirt and slacks. I opened the middle drawer and found a stack of t-shirts; I didn’t dare open the top one in case I found his boxer shorts.
Or does he wear briefs? I wondered, my hand reaching for the drawer’s brass handle. I jerked it back quickly, shaking myself.
Choosing to ignore my irrational action, I pulled out a white t-shirt. I shot a glance at Sean, not wanting him to see me changing, but he was clearly out. Still, I changed as fast as I could, covering m
yself quickly. The shirt nearly swallowed me whole, falling almost halfway down my thighs. Sean’s musculature clearly filled out a shirt. I inhaled deeply, sampling his musky, masculine scent that clung to the clothing. It was intoxicating.
I shook myself again and instead turned my mind to finding some sweatpants. I reached for the bottom drawer, where I would have kept my own slacks. Only when I went to pull it open, it seemed to be stuck. I jerked at the handle hard, but it didn’t budge. It was then that I noticed the small keyhole set into the dark wood; the drawer was clearly locked. My curiosity was piqued.
I wonder what he keeps in there…
No. I didn’t care. I jerked open another drawer, perhaps a bit harder than was strictly necessary. There: sweatpants. I pulled them on hastily and tightened the drawstring, shoving the locked drawer from my mind.
My eyes flitted to the bookshelf that sat flush with the wall beside the bed. In fact, it was the only piece of furniture in the room other than the bed and the chest of drawers. Now that I really noticed it, I was struck by how large it was. Even when I stood, the top shelf still sat higher than the top of my head, and I’m not a short woman.
On the top shelf, there were maybe a dozen books on carpentry. Some of them were how-to manuals, but it seemed that several of them were coffee-table books, volumes that celebrated woodworking as an art form.
I found myself glancing over at Sean. I wonder if he knows how to…
I cut off that line of thinking, turning my attention back to the bookshelf. The rest of the shelves were filled by Fantasy novels. There were your classics like The Lord of the Rings, but I was surprised to find Harry Potter tucked in next to The Wheel of Time series.
Why, Sean, I thought with a small smile, it seems you’re a bit of a nerd.
My eyes were drawn to him again, more appraising this time. He had struck me as a cocky playboy, had intimidated me as a dangerous criminal, but it seemed that there was another layer to this enigma of a man. I had thought that looking over the bookshelf would distract me from him, but it had only intrigued me more.
I absently ran my fingers along the spines, feeling the cracks in the bindings where Sean must have folded the books back on themselves while he read. I stopped at a particularly worn novel, squinting curiously at the title. The spine was so destroyed that the words were completely obscured. It seemed Sean had read this one over and over again. My curiosity piqued, I pulled it down from the shelf. A Game of Thrones by George R. R. Martin.
The title seemed vaguely familiar; I was fairly sure that this had been made into a TV series. But I didn’t allow myself time for TV, so I couldn’t be sure. In fact, I hadn’t had time to read a book for pleasure in years. Every time I picked up a book these days, it was to study.
But it seemed that now I had nothing but free time, and there weren’t any medical books on the shelf. So I carefully settled myself down on the bed, putting as much space between myself and Sean as I could manage, and I began to read.
A few hours later, my eyes were glued to the book, roving over the pages as quickly as I could consume the words.
“Don’t,” Sean groaned softly beside me.
I was immediately torn from the pseudo-Medieval world in which I had been immersed and slammed back into the present.
Sean was trembling, all of his muscles taut from some unseen strain.
“Stop,” there was a pleading edge to his tone.
Shit. This could happen with oxycodone. Patients sometimes experienced vivid dreams, and right now it seemed like Sean was trapped in a nightmare.
I was immediately drawn to him, overwhelmed by the need to comfort him. I reached out for him, tentatively touching his hand. Little sparks seemed to dance over my skin at the contact. Despite the discomfiting sensation, I grasped his hand firmly, tracing my fingers over the rough callouses on his palm.
“Shhh,” I said gently. “You’re okay, Sean. It’s okay.”
I settled myself down beside him, stretching out on my side. I watched as the tension left him, the lines of his face relaxing as I comforted him. As I monitored the steady rise and fall of his chest, I found myself drawn in again by the sight of him. The rhythm of his breathing was hypnotic. The steadiness of it relaxed me, and I found myself growing sleepy. I had been through so much, and my body was giving in to exhaustion. Without even noticing what was happening, I drifted off to sleep beside him, still holding his hand in mine.
Chapter 4
I awoke feeling contented, my body pressed up against something warm. Someone nuzzled my hair affectionately, and I sighed happily.
Then my eyes snapped open in shock. My body seemed to have shaped itself around Sean’s hard one, my head on his shoulder and my chest pressed up against his side. I was still holding his large hand with my small one. I jolted upright, scooting away from him quickly. That’s when I saw it: the bulge in Sean’s jeans. His erection was obvious, straining against the thick material. And it was undeniably large. I licked my lips unconsciously as I stared, wide-eyed.
“Didn’t anyone ever tell you it’s rude to stare?”
I jumped, startled out of my entranced state. My eyes snapped to Sean’s, and my cheeks burned ret hot as I saw the amusement in his gaze. That cocky grin was back in place. The man knew how good he looked, his effect on women, and he was clearly conceited as hell.
“But I don’t mind, you know,” he continued on as though not affected by my embarrassment one iota. To the contrary, he seemed to be relishing it. That dark flame flickered in his eyes again as they flicked down to my torso, a twisted, satisfied smile breaking out on his face as he saw that I was wearing his clothes. Then his eyes roved upward to my red cheeks and then back up to my eyes, capturing me in his smoky gaze.
Snap out of it! I ordered myself harshly. I quickly brought my walls back up, schooling my expression to a disdainful scowl.
“Well I do mind,” I snapped. “What have I told you about your sordid little fantasies? They’re totally fucked up.” I drew back from him further, resolutely not looking at his crotch.
He reached for me quickly, grabbing my wrist. “Claudia-” He began, his tone contrite. But I wasn’t having it.
“Don’t touch me,” I hissed, yanking my hand out of his grip. Or I would have if he hadn’t been infinitely stronger than me. As it was, it was like pulling against the unyielding metal cuffs again. So I settled for giving him a pointed glare.
Finally, he released me, something akin to regret in his eyes. He ran a hand through his hair in frustration, mussing it in a way that impossibly made him look even sexier, as though he had just enjoyed a good fuck…
I needed to get out of here, to get away from this god-like man who was quickly driving me to madness.
I stood abruptly and began pacing back and forth beside the bed, suddenly feeling claustrophobic, as though the room was far too small. Sean’s aura seemed to fill the small space, his masculine scent pervading the air, choking off my ability to reason as it invaded my mind.
“Claudia?” He asked, concern lacing his tone. I didn’t answer. “Claudia,” he said my name more insistently this time. “What’s wrong?”
I rounded on him, stopping my pacing abruptly. “What’s wrong?!” I shrieked at him. I was close to the edge of panic, so I focused on my anger instead, fighting to keep myself grounded. “I’ve been kidnapped by a horny jackass, that’s what’s wrong. One who doesn’t seem to have any plans to let me go. Ever. So what, am I supposed to just be fine with it when you make a pass at me when I can’t get away? Am I supposed to be fine with it when you get wood and then leer at me like that?”
His expression had gone from guilty to furious in the space of a few seconds as he listened to my short tirade.
“Listen, doc,” he snapped. “Your options are either Bradley insists on killing you, or you stay here indefinitely. I went with option B. Sorry if that gets your panties in a bunch, but the way I see it, I saved your life. And I’m going to get morning wood. I’m a r
ed-blooded man; of course I’m going to get a hard-on if I wake up with a beautiful woman pressed against me.” His brows drew together. “And I don’t recall forcing you to cuddle with me.”
I gasped, blanching at his words. How dare he act like this was my fault?
“I’m the one who saved your life, in case you don’t recall,” I said acidly. “All you did was take my life away from me. Sure, I’m still breathing, but what am I supposed to do? Stay locked in this room forever? What kind of life is that?”
“What do you want from me?” Sean half-growled, the ferocity of his expression making me take an involuntary step back. “I can’t let you go, but I won’t let you die. That’s the best I can offer you.”
“How magnanimous,” I spat. “If you really weren’t some kind of twisted monster, you would let me go.” I couldn’t help the pleading edge that bled into my tone as I said it.
“This isn’t up for debate, doc,” he half-shouted, incensed by my words. “You’re not leaving.”
Tears filled my eyes, and I quickly turned away from him to hide them. I never cried in front of anyone. Never.
I blinked hard, willing the stinging at the corners of my eyes to dissipate.
“Claudia?” His voice was suddenly gentle, soothing. And that curious lilt as he said my name so sweetly made something quiver inside me.
But I didn’t answer; I knew that if I spoke the quaver in my voice would give me away.
“Shit,” he cursed softly. “Claudia, I-”
The sound of the lock clicking back cut him off, and Bradley burst into the room. He advanced on me.
“I thought I warned you not to upset him,” he said angrily. His strong hands were on my shoulders, shoving me harshly. My back hit the wall, my head cracking against it. The world spun as pain spiked through my skull, the shock of impact reverberating through my brain. Bradley’s furious visage filled my vision, and I tried to shrink away from him. But the wall at my back prevented me from doing so, and I found myself trapped against it, pinned there by his strong hands on my shoulders and his cold, dark brown stare.