"Thank God you found her," she says. "I'll prepare a hot bath and some food and?—"
"No," I interrupt. "She's coming with me."
Eden's eyes widen. "Where?"
"My room."
"No. Please. I want to go to my room. I need to sleep and?—"
"You wanted to know what I'm capable of?" I step closer. Lower my voice so only she can hear. "You wanted to see the real Vaughn Sutherland instead of the patient man I've been showing you? Tonight, you'll find out."
Terror flashes across her face.
Raw, genuine terror.
Good.
She should be afraid.
Should understand that running has consequences.
Should learn that I'm not the careful, controlled man I've been pretending to be.
I'm something much more dangerous than that, and she's about to discover exactly what that means.
I take her arm—not roughly, but firmly enough that she knows resistance is pointless, and lead her toward the stairs.
She could fight. Could scream. Could try to run again.
She doesn't.
Just follows me up the stairs, down the hallway, to the door of my bedroom.
A door she's never been through.
A threshold she's never crossed.
Until now.
I open it. Guide her inside with a hand on the small of her back.
Close the door behind us.
Lock it.
The sound of the lock clicking makes her flinch violently.
"Vaughn—"
"Strip."
"What?"
"You're soaking wet from crossing the creek. Freezing. You need dry clothes and warmth. So strip. Now. Unless you'd prefer I do it for you."
She stares at me.
Eyes huge.
