“Why are you muttering about Heathcliff and Romeo?” he asked. “Are you well? Do you take pills? There was nothing I found in your house that indicated any illness. Physical or . . . otherwise.”
“Are you trying to say I’m crazy?” she demanded.
“I’m sure that doctors aren’t allowed to use labels like ‘crazy,’” he told her.
“I notice that you say that doctors aren’t allowed to use those sorts of labels, but you’re saying nothing about yourself,” she said.
“You’re smart.”
“You say that like you’re surprised,” she huffed.
“That’s because I am,” he replied.
Rude.
And now she was done talking.
“How long am I going to be here for? And when am I going to see Jared?”
“Do you want to see Jared?” he asked.
What kind of weird question was that?
Of course she wanted to see Jared.
See him.
Not interact with him. Not go near him. Not scent him.
Not . . . kiss him.
“You’re very loyal to Jared, aren’t you?” she asked. “He must be a very good boss if you’re so loyal that you’d kidnap helpless, sweet women right out of their houses.”
“You’re helpless and sweet?” he asked.
“Yes, I’m helpless and sweet.” She scowled at him. “How dare you imply that I’m not!”
“Helpless, yes.”
Implying that she wasn’t sweet?
“I’m not completely helpless!” she protested. “Why are you saying that?”
“Um, I’m agreeing with you.”
“Right, you’re agreeing that I’m not completely helpless. In fact, I might be a bad ass.”
“You’re a bad ass?” he asked, looking her over.
“Yes, a bad ass in disguise as helpless.”
“So when are you going to demonstrate this bad ass behavior? Or was that when you kicked the door and hurt your toe?”
Which was still throbbing . . . ouch.
“No, that was just to get your attention. And it worked. Now, you’re here and you’ve told me where the key is. We’re all alone. Perhaps I’ll attack you, grab the key, and run.”
“The door is unlocked,” he told her. “You don’t even need the key.” He leaned back against the closed door and raised one eyebrow.
