“It’s what you like.”
“So you’ve definitely been watching me.” Cecilia let out a laugh, but it didn’t sound particularly happy. Pressing the heel of her palm to her forehead, she breathed, “I mean, Iknewit, but this is— And thetoothbrush?—”
Sloane had no idea what to do when she quickly turned and walked into a corner, where she crouched low and covered her face. In a muffled voice, she said, “Glory save me, I’ve been kidnapped by my stalker. It finally happened. It really, actually happened. Cece, you finally got what was always coming to you. Fuck. Gods, fuck you, honestly. I don’t deserve this.”
Concerned, he warned her, “You should never turn your back on a predator, Cecilia.”
“Well, what’re you gonna do?” The demand came from behind her hands. “You’ve already got me. And you could kill me with your pinky toe if you wanted to, whether I was facing you or not. So who even cares?”
Sloane glanced down at his boots. “I don’t want to kill you with my pinky toe.”
“No, of course not, because you brought me Fruit Crunchums! You clearly want me to live!”
“I do.”You're my consort. Your health, your safety — it means everything to me.
Twisting her neck, Cecilia peered at him through her spread fingers. “Why? Why doanyof this? You don’t even know me!”
It was on the tip of his tongue to tell her he’d spent every spare moment over the past year studying her, but even with his limited social skills, he understood that probably wasn’t wise. Instead, he insisted, “It’s my job.”
Dropping her hands, she gave him an incredulous look. “To stalk and kidnap women?”
“To keep you safe.” He reluctantly moved away from the wall to nudge the box with the toe of his boot. “Eat.”
Her gaze darted between him and the box of vile-looking food product. Speaking slowly, she asked, “You really want me to eat?”
“Yes. You need food to live.” There was a brief pause as some strange, foreign entity battled for control over his tongue. “And… you like it. You should have things you like.”
She swallowed. Eyeing him speculatively, she said, “I’ll eat — under two conditions.”
Sloane’s back straightened. “Name them.”
“Tell me your name.”
A spasm of discomfort wracked his insides. Mouth dry, he informed her, “That’s only one.”
“Tell me first and then I’ll give you the second one.”
Ruthless,he thought, impressed despite his unease. Even after a year of observing her, he’d never witnessed this shrewd side of his doe. But then again, he’d never seen her brain a man with a lamp, either.
He liked it.
Figuring he was in for a penny in regards to breaking every protocol he lived by already, he answered, “…Sloane. Sloane Fortuner.”
“Sloane,” she muttered, sending a shockwave of desire through his very bones. Those big brown eyes, liquid black in the shadows, stared up at him when she demanded, “Sloane, get me a bowl, spoon, and milk.”
CHAPTER
NINE
For a long time,the only sound in the cell was thetink tinkof Cecilia’s spoon hitting the bottom of her bowl.
She sat against the wall, her bandaged legs crossed in front of her and the plain white cereal bowl in hand. Her captor,Sloane,stood rigidly by the door until she snapped at him to sit down. Cecilia didn’t actually expect him to listen, but she wasn’t altogether surprised when he immediately sank to the ground to mimic her pose.
She’d never excelled at much. School didn’t come easily to her, and she had no natural talents to speak of. The only skill Cecilia had ever reliably called upon was reading people.
And Sloane, despite his facelessness and voice modulator, was becoming increasingly easy to read.
Eyeing him as she crunched on the cereal he’d placed at her feet like a cat drops a mouse, Cecilia tilted her head slightly to get a better look at him. One eye had begun to swell, thanks to Duke’s handiwork, but it didn’t impair her sight too much as she took him in.
