The confession was jolted out of her. She hadn’t even said that to Sheriff Crocker, although she should have. Shehadthought she was going to die. When that man climbed on top of her, and she felt his sick pleasure in her pain, she had been filled with a mindless, desperate terror.
“I know.” He gently smoothed away an excess drip of alcohol. “I’m sorry.”
I know? What a strange thing to say.“News travels fast.”
“Everything moves fast around here—time, man, beast. You’ll get used to it.”
“I thought small towns were supposed to be notoriously slow-paced.”
Cal laughed humorlessly. “Not this one.”
Silence stretched between them, not entirely uncomfortable. It was hushed enough that Nadine imagined that she could almost hear the chitter of birds from beyond the window. Cal’s drapes were thrown open, to reveal the edge of the woods and the gothic iron gate.
“What—” Her voice broke and she had to regroup before trying again, latching on to the segue he’d provided her. “What do you hunt for out there in the woods?”
“Deer and rabbits, mostly,” he said, not looking up. “Lots of small birds.”
Her fingers curled when he reached a particularly deep gash on the back of her wrist. That strength in his hands—did that come from hunting? Nadine had seen plenty of lawyers after the death of her parents. None of them were built like Cal. None of them acted like him, either.
She squeezed her eyes shut until more tears spilled out across her cheeks.
“Why kill the birds? The songbirds and the sparrows—what do they give you?”
“They’re small and fast and hard to catch.” He switched to her other wrist, fingers enveloping it fully as he examined her sliced-up palm. “It takes skill to catch something that frightened and determined to get away. You have to be gentle, ruthless . . . patient. And in that first burst of silence after the gun goes off, there’s this heady moment of anticipation—did I get what I came here for?”
“So you’re a thrill-seeker,” she said accusingly.
“No,” he said, and his laugh was, if not quite warm, still deeply amused. Like her words had pleased him in some indefinable way, even if he disagreed with them. “I hedge my bets. Plato said that the measure of a man is what he does with his power. And I’m very reluctant to part with what I have.”
“A tyrant, then.”
His smile narrowed. “Not here. My father is king of this castle—and my brother will follow after him.” He let his hands fall to his sides, still holding the rum and the handkerchief as he leaned forward. “But enough about me. When was the last time you let someone take care of you?”
“I—I don’t—” She shook her head, trying to clear it, which was a mistake because it made her head hurt, too. “My aunt takes care of me. And my sister—did. We all take care of each other. Why are you asking me that? Why aren’t you asking me what happened in the mine?”
“Oh, is that where you were? I did wonder. Fine then. What happened in the mine?”
“Are you sure you don’t know?” She glanced at his mouth, taking its measure. Wondering if those full, chiseled lips with their slight curve of cruelty were the ones that had seized hers in the dark. “Since you know everything,” she finished faintly.
“I’m a lawyer,” he said. “Not a psychic.”
“And you’re always mocking me.”
“I’d do other things if you let me.” He slid from the chair, going to his knees and she started to get up, ready to bolt.
With a wicked smile, he put his hands on her thighs and levered her back, knocking her into a supine sprawl. He dabbed another cloth in alcohol and applied it to the scratches on her ankles. They weren’t as bad. Despite the capri length of the pants, the rubber heels of her shoes must have kept her legs from making full contact with the ground.
She pushed herself up to her elbows so she could watch him, bothered by how proud and exacting he looked even now, with his head bowed.
“Do you like me on my knees?”
“Cal.”
“I think about it sometimes,” he confessed darkly. “Getting on my knees for you. I like to imagine the look on your face.”
With a traitorous pang, she remembered the way he’d looked at her in her bedroom when he’d caught her in her shirt and bra. How the warmth of his breath teasing against her bare stomach had made her ache so deeply that it hurt.
Just like she was right now, with him bent between her thighs.
