Grabbing a bundle of comfortable clothing from the mess around them, she stood up and dumped it on the bed. Keeping her eyes down, she reached behind her for the invisible zipper of her dress.
“What are you doing?”
“Changing,” she answered, struggling to get a grip with her bandaged hands.
Sloane’s voice came from a different position behind her when he pointed out, “There’s a bathroom.”
“Oh, please. Like you haven’t seen it all already, roof boy.” When she finally grasped the zipper, only to immediately hit a snag, Cecilia cast him a look over her shoulder. “I require assistance.”
It seemed to take a minute for him to grasp what she was asking for. When he did, Sloane confirmed, “You… want me to unzip your dress.”
Keeping her gaze level with his visor, she said with more bravado than she felt, “You say you only want to keep me safe. Prove it. Give me a hand and don’t be a creep about it.”
When he took a cautious step closer, she turned her head to face the wall and held her breath. She wasn’t sure why she did it. It was a bad idea, and she hadn’t thought it through at all. But that reckless, desperate thing in her that craved danger took over her body in a flash. Asking him to prove himself was a clumsy excuse to cover up the fact that it was a different, more shameful sort of test.
Cecilia held the bodice close to her chest with sweaty palms. His warmth radiated through her back as he stepped behind her. She could faintly hear his breath whispering through what sounded like a filter as his fingertips closed around the tiny metal zipper.
Heat licked down her spine as he traced its path downward, revealing her naked back to the cool air of the room. Even as the tension of the garment released, it became harder and harder for her to breathe.
Words tumbled out of her mouth, soft and a little panicked. “Am I your prisoner, Sloane?”
The zipper’s painfully slow descent slowed to a stop at her mid-back. “No.”
She swallowed. “So you’ll let me go?”
“No.”
“So Iamyour prisoner.”
A heavy, gloved hand settled on her hip. She felt him bend over her as the zipper continued down its little track. Sloane’s robotic voice came out quieter when he replied, “No.”
Her breath came out in tiny little puffs as the dress loosened completely. She held it to her naked chest and felt her heart pounding beneath it. “You don’t know what you’re doing, do you?”
Despite the fact that his job was done, he didn’t move away. His left hand remained on her hip, and she felt the other hovering at the base of her spine, like he didn’t want to let go of the zipper. “The world is unsafe for you. You claim the vampires wouldn’t want retribution, but you don’t know that. I can protect you here. I have to.”
“I get lying low, but I have a life,” she protested, staring at the wall. Cecilia thought about stepping away, knowing that he would likely allow it, but she didn’t. She couldn’t. “There are people who’ll miss me, Sloane. People who’ll do anything to find me. Even if I wanted to stay here?—”
The fingers on her hip tightened. “What would make you want to stay?”
“I’m hearing that pleasing me is important to you,” she said, cautiously tapping into all those condescending communication lessons. “But protecting me is themostimportant priority.”
“Correct.”
Found the line.
Cecilia nodded. “Not being held prisoner is a priority for me. Being trapped in a bunker with my stalker makes me feel afraid. Do you understand that?”
“Heard,” he replied. “Tell me what you require.”
“Not being locked inside, for one.”
“I appreciate your intel, but I believe you have a limited view of the potential fallout from your attack. Until I can confirm that you aren’t in any danger, the best course of action is for you to remain here under guard.”
“I could go to Dahlia and Felix’s house,” she offered. “They have, um, intense security. And if they knew what happened, they?—”
“No,” he interjected, flat and abrupt. “I don’t trust anyone else to keep you safe.”
Cecilia licked her lips. Taking a shot in the dark, she murmured, “You don’t trust anyone, do you?”
