Her brow furrowed as she took in the empty room. A movementbehind her caught her attention at the same moment the doorknob jerked from her hand, and the door slammed shut.
"Hello, Riley Darling."
The seductive tone in the tenor voice filled her veins with ice, and her heart pumped so fast she feared she might have a heart attack. Praying the familiar voice belonged to someone other than the man who was supposed to be in jail, she spun around.
Her stomach plummeted, hardening like concrete before hitting bottom.
It's not possible.
She'd filed a restraining order. He wasn't supposed to come within 100 hundred yards of her.
Yet, there stood Collin Ainsworth, looking as cocky as ever, smiling at her and blocking the only exit.
"You made a big mistake, Cowgirl." He advanced on her.
"You're not s-supposed to be here." She backed away from him until she hit the exam table. With nowhere to retreat, fear consumed her, freezing her limbs—like it had Friday night.
Scream. Help is just beyond the door.
She couldn't seem to make her lungs work, though. Her chest was so tight, she could hardly breathe. Besides, screaming and fighting had only aroused Collin more last week. A wave of dizziness hit her as she recalled how weak and powerless she’d felt when he’d pinned her to the sofa and groped her body.
If I'd only had the courage to tell everyone, Zoe never would have let Collin in.
Her medical assistant probably thought she was doing Riley a favor by creating a bogus chart and sneaking Collin into an exam room for a lover’s tryst, but she couldn't be more wrong.
"You should have known better than to go to the police." Collin laughed as he took another step toward her. "Did you really think they'd charge me after I explained how you'd been coming onto me all night and showed them the pictures of us together? I mean you could hardly keep your hands off me."
The pictures Collin took during their date should have clued herin that he had an agenda. Pictures that made her increasingly more uncomfortable as the night progressed. The way Collin repeatedly invaded her space, putting his arm around her and pressing his cheek to hers made her uneasy. He even took her hand and placed it on his chest for one of the photos.
Relief filled her when he finally brought her home. Except he didn't leave like she'd expected. Instead, he took the keys from her hand, opened her apartment door, and sauntered inside.
"You attacked m-me." The words were barely more than a whisper because Riley couldn't draw in a full breath. Dark shadows danced at the edges of her vision.
"Oh, come now." His voice took on that sultry quality all the nurses loved. "We were only making out."
"Do you always hit the women you make out with?" She squared her shoulders, but her voice was still weak. She hated that he had such a debilitating effect on her.
People often said, "You need to face your fears to overcome them," but no matter how many times she looked at Collin Ainsworth's pretty-boy face, she'd never feel anything but fear and disgust.
He tapped a finger to his lips. "Now, see, I explained to the police that when things got passionate, we fell off the couch and you hit your head on the coffee table."
She eyed the door, willing herself to make a run for it, but her knees shook so badly she had to put her hands on the exam table behind her to steady herself. Despite knowing there was help on the other side of the door, she felt as trapped and hopeless as she did Friday night.
"You ripped my blouse." He’d done a lot more than that, but Riley couldn’t vocalize the ways he’d violated her.
"It was only a few buttons, darling. I'll buy you a new shirt." He kept himself positioned between her and the door as he closed the distance between them. "I can buy you all kinds of nice things."
"I don’t want anything from you." Her voice was a little stronger now, but her breaths came so fast she risked hyperventilating. "You stay away from me."
"I can't do that, sweetheart. You stir something inside me." He stood toe-to-toe with her now. His hot breath brushed her face, reminding her of the stench of alcohol on his breath a few days ago. He ran a finger down her cheek. "You belong to me."
A shudder of disgust laced with fear ricocheted through her, both from his words and his touch. She slapped his hand away. "Don't touch me."
His eyes darkened, and she recalled the pain of the punch he landed to the side of her face last Friday and the throbbing headache she'd nursed all weekend. Despite wanting to be brave, she felt like curling up in a ball and crying, like she had for two days straight after his assault.
"You want me. I can see it in your eyes." He leaned closer. "Just think of how amazing it could be between us if you'd only let go of your puritan values and give in to the attraction."
Attraction? More like repulsion.
