She stares at me, processing. "My father? I haven't spoken to him in years."
"Doesn't matter to them." I buckle her in, letting my fingers graze her collarbone. She shivers. "They'll use you to get to him, and they won't be gentle about it."
She swallows hard. I watch the delicate movement of her throat, imagining my teeth there, marking her.
"How do you know all this?"
"I have resources." I straighten up, close her door, and circle to the driver's side. Behind us, the kidnappers are strugglingto their feet, stumbling toward their van. I could finish them, should finish them, but Priscilla doesn't need to see that side of me. Not yet.
The drive to my cabin takes forty minutes. She's quiet most of the way, huddled against the door, as far from me as possible. But I catch her watching me, those big eyes flicking over my face, my hands on the wheel, my body. Assessing. Wondering.
"Where are we going?" she finally asks as we turn onto the unmarked gravel road that leads to my property.
"Somewhere safe. My place. Twenty acres, no neighbors, security system that would make the Pentagon jealous."
The trees thicken around us, blocking out the moonlight. My cabin appears through the pines—not the rustic shack the word implies, but a custom-built fortress of wood and stone. Remote. Defensible. Perfect for keeping her hidden away from the world.
From anyone who might try to take her from me.
I park and come around to open her door. She doesn't move, just stares up at me with those wide, uncertain eyes.
"Come on. This is your home now, at least until I eliminate the threat."
"And how long will that take?" she asks, voice small but with an edge of defiance that makes me want to bend her over the hood of my truck.
"As long as necessary." I reach in and unbuckle her, my hand deliberately grazing her thigh. "Days. Weeks. However long it takes to make sure you're safe."
When she still doesn't move, I simply lift her out. This time she doesn't struggle, just goes rigid in my arms. I carry her to the front door, savoring the feel of her soft body against mine.
Inside, I set her down but keep a hand on the small of her back, guiding her further into the open living area. Stone fireplace. Leather furniture. Gun cabinet against one wall,locked but visible. I want her to understand exactly what kind of man I am.
She takes it all in, arms wrapped around herself, looking small and vulnerable and so fucking perfect I can barely stand it.
"Why are you doing this?" she whispers. "You don't even know me."
I step closer, backing her against the wall. Cage her in with my arms, one on either side of her head. Lower my face until we're breathing the same air.
"I know everything about you, Priscilla. I know how you take your coffee. I know which books you recommend to customers and which ones you keep for yourself. I know you sleep with your window cracked even when it's cold." I lean in, my lips nearly brushing her ear. "And I know your little panties are probably wet right now.”
She trembles, her eyes locked on mine, pupils dilating.
Fuck me.
three
. . .
Priscilla
The cabin doorclicks shut behind us with the finality of a prison cell. I'm trapped here with this mountain of a man who claims he's protecting me but feels more dangerous than the men who tried to kidnap me. My heart hammers against my ribs as I scan the room for escape routes, weapons, anything. The space is masculine and minimal—dark leather, rough wood, and stone. Like him. No softness anywhere. Nowhere to hide.
And I know your little panties are probably wet right now.
Woodrow moves past me into the kitchen area, his massive frame making even this generous space feel cramped. He opens the refrigerator, his back to me like he's not remotely concerned I might try to flee. "You want water? Beer?"
I almost laugh. And now he’s offering me a drink so casually like he didn’t just say the filthiest thing anyone has ever said to me.
"I want answers." I find my spine stiffening with a courage I didn't know I had. Maybe it's the adrenaline still coursing through my system. "Who were those men? What do they want with me? How do you know my father?"
