She didn’t make it.
One broad hand gripped her hip and pulled her right back in with a sharp tug. She lost her balance and fell, surprised when his free hand caught her head, cupping it. “What’s your plan here, princess?” He sounded even more amused.
Her breath deserted her. “I’m leaving.”
“No, you’re not,” he said softly. Too softly.
She shivered. “You can’t make me stay here.”
He didn’t bother to answer.
“I’ll scream,” she threatened.
“Go ahead.” His fingers threaded through her hair. “I’m not going to hurt you, Dessie. But you are going to answer some questions.”
That’s what he thought. She bunched her fist and punched him right in the throat. But instead of coughing or pulling back, he just looked at her. All of her fingers ached. What was his neck made of, cement?
“Hitting isn’t nice,” he murmured, his gaze dropping to her mouth.
She shifted to clap both of his ears between her palms, but he rolled her over onto her back before she could make contact. One of his hands pressed against her abdomen, holding her in place.
“Knock it off.” He looked down at her. “Why do you have a fake ID?”
“I don’t,” she said. “My license is authentic.” At least it was supposed to be authentic. “Why do you think it’s a fake?”
“I think it’s probably authentic.” His hand felt heavy on her stomach. “But you don’t sound like you’re from Texas.”
“Well, I am. Now, if you want me to answer any more questions, I suggest you let me out of this bag.” She tried to sound as proper as possible.
“Where do you think you’re going?” He looked around. “In every direction there are camps with heavy drinking and partying going on. By leaving, you’re either going to freeze to death, or you’re going to walk right into danger. How is that a plan?” He still didn’t move his hand.
“I already walked into danger,” she muttered.
His grin was a quick flash of teeth. “Yeah, baby, you did.”
She shivered from head to toe at his tone. His sexy, dangerous, intriguing tone. Why did she respond to him like this? She turned her head to see his face better. “If I said I’d take my chances, would you let me go?”
“No.”
She huffed out a breath.
“Why don’t you have a Texan accent?” he asked.
“I grew up in a boarding school,” she said quietly. “My parents died when I was young, and my father’s sister acquired custody of me. She sent me to boarding school the second I was eligible, at six years old. It wasn’t as bad as it might sound.” She tried to keep her voice flat, but the hurt still flared hot and bright.
The hand at her nape began to knead gently. “I’m sorry, Dessie.”
She shrugged, but the hurt remained. “I liked school.” Although it took forever for them to set her free.
“What boarding school?” he asked.
Apparently the interrogation had begun. She didn’t see much of a reason to be stubborn. “I attended Chapel Hill for Girls for grade school and then junior high. After that I attended Stoneton Hills Academy for high school as well as college.” She had worked hard but had yearned so badly to be home in Texas.
“Where are those schools located?”
“Oh, no.” She pushed his hard chest, not surprised when he didn’t move. “You have to be fair. What’s your last name?”
He studied her for a moment. “Kayrs.”
