The man tossed me another bottle of regular Tylenol, and I felt better about the PMs. They were simply trying to help my head and not keep me lethargic. I still didn’t move to open the bottles, though. My mind was stuck on the fact that someone else might be after me, and that both these men seemed to think that it was a possibility.
“I would have reported it if I had. Maybe her instincts are off?”
Killian moved away from the windows and came back to the couch, taking the seat beside me. He took the PM medicine from my lap and set it on the table, then opened the bottle of regular Tylenol. He shook three pills into his hand and offered them over to me.
“Your headache has been there most of the day, and if it’s stress induced, then this whole situation is going to keep it there. Take them. Drink the Ginger Ale. It will help.”
I took the pills and washed them down with the soda. “Thanks,” I whispered, not sure what to do at this point.
“You’re welcome,” he said softly before turning back to his friend.
I stayed quiet and rested my head in my palm, trying to think of anything that seemed significant, but I couldn’t come up with anything. I only made my headache worse.
My eyes closed for a few minutes, but it wasn’t long before I felt someone lifting me into their arms. It was Killian. I didn’t need to open my eyes to know it was him. His bare chest radiated heat against my side, and I curled into it. It was relaxing.
“If only he didn’t kidnap me,” I muttered to myself, thinking about what a shame it was he was the man holding me against my will. He had these moments where he seemed to really care. Where he was kind and considerate, and it seemed like he was really trying to protect me.
Then there were moments like the ones in the bathroom where he was a jerk. An extremely hot, cocky jerk, but a jerk who melted my core and made my panties damp. He kept me on my toes, and I never knew which side of him I was going to get.
Killian did show that he could bend, though. He’d turned his back so I could change shirts. Maybe he wouldn’t stick to the shower and bathroom rule like he said he would? What if he did?
Could I shower like he had with him, sitting on the edge of the tub like that, or would he turn his back and not watch?
You watched him,my subconscious reminded me, and brought the image of his taut backside to mind—an image I didn’t think I would forget—ever.
“You need to go to the bathroom?” Killian’s voice broke into my thoughts as if he could read my mind.
“That depends—are you going to watch me?”
He sighed heavily. “I’ll stand in the doorway with my back turned—compromise?”
I had a feeling this was as much bend as he was ever going to give me, but I had to try. “Other side of the door and the door can be cracked only a little.”
Killian set me down in front of the bathroom door. My body dragged along the length of his, my hands splayed against the warmth of his chest. I looked up into his brown eyes. The rich depths had flecks of amber that brightened when he looked at me like he was doing.
“You want me to leave you alone, Zoey? You gotta stop looking at me like that.” His voice was gruff and low. The timber of it caused my desire to pool in my belly.
I sighed and looked at his chest, trying to distract myself from his striking eyes. It didn’t help. “I’m trying to remember to hate you. You took me for money.”
“I took you to keep you safe. If I trusted you not to escape the bathroom, the bed—” He lifted my wrist. “The cuffs? They wouldn’t be necessary.”
“What would make you trust me?” I asked him softly.
“Time. More than you have to give me. This will be over long before that day ever arrives, Zoey. Trust doesn’t come easy to me. That’s why women are always temporary in my life—always.”
Well, that basically laid that all out for me. I would be temporary even if this situation wasn’t staring us in the face, and there was no way he would ever trust me. “I see.” I took a quick step back from him, putting space between us. “Door cracked. You can stand with your back to it—compromise, please.”
He nodded and let me go into the bathroom. The door was more shut than open. It would barely constitute as being cracked, and I knew he would stand there with his back to it. In the little time I’d spent with him, I had learned one thing about Killian. He seemed to be a man of his word.
