He heaved a sigh. “I don’t know where to begin.”
“You could begin by letting me go,” she suggested.
He scrubbed a hand over the stubble on his chin and it drew her attention there, or more precisely, to his full lips. She wondered if they’d be firm or soft when he kissed…someone. Definitely not her. She glanced away quickly, furious that she could be thinking about how her kidnapper kissed. What the heck was wrong with her?
“I can’t do that,” he said, his tone almost pleading, as if he genuinely wanted her to understand.
Perhaps he really believed that he was a good guy. If that was true, she could work with it. She could pretend to listen to him and trust him. She could get him on side and get him to trust her in return so that she could escape when his guard was down. Maybe there had been some sense in that hostage seminar, after all.
“I’m Sloane,” he said after a moment. “Miles Sloane. But Miles is a shit name, even my mother doesn’t like it and she’s the one who gave it to me, so she and everyone else just call me Sloane.”
Her lips twitched, threatening to lift at the corners and she had to force them to stay in a neutral position.
“Except at work,” he added. “At work, they call me Ice.”
Ice?
As in, ‘Cold as Ice’? As in, ‘Ice Cold Killer’?
Well, that wasn’t welcome news.
This time her lips pulled down into a grimace and there was no stopping that action in its tracks. But then her curiosity got the better of her and the question tumbled from her lips.
“At work?”
He nodded. “I’m an FBI special agent. I work on one of their SWAT teams.”
Oh dear. It was worse than she feared. The man wasn’t just a criminal, he was quite clearly delusional. He didn’t just believe he was one of the good guys, he had created an elaborate story about himself, too. It was just her luck to get a kidnapper who’d been sipping the crazy juice.
But perhaps she could still play along.
“A SWAT team, huh? That must be exciting.”
His face lit up, seemingly pleased to have her engaged in conversation. “It can be, but we deal with a lot of the more unsavory characters in society, so it can be dangerous, too.”
She nodded knowingly.
He would know all about unsavory characters, wouldn’t he?
“I can imagine,” she said. “And why do they call you Ice?”
“Oh, that’s because of my species.”
She blinked. “I’m sorry?”
He nodded. “I know it sounds crazy, but my team is all made up of shapeshifters and we were given nicknames based on our species.”
It was at that point that Ray realized she was well and truly screwed, and most definitely not in the fun way.
“Andyourspecies?” she enquired as politely as she was able.
Why in the hell was she playing along with this? She should have thrown herself out of the window and prayed like hell she got eaten by an alligator. Lord only knew what sort of depraved things this man had in store for her.
“Well, I’m a polar bear shifter,” he informed her calmly.
“Right.”
Of course he was.
