Page 7
After the past few years of loneliness, of desolation, of feeling nothing at all, he’d felt something when he held her. The buzz at seeing her—at feeling her soft and pliant against him—had been like a sugar rush. It left him dizzy and comforted and craving more. It was nothing but lust. But at least it was something.
He should drag her outside and slam the door in her beautiful face. And yet she’d made it easy for him to keep her just a while longer. A little more time to feel human again, to want someone with a raw, aching need he had thought died in him years ago.
Besides, she might actually help him get to the fucker. No one knew Kyle better than her.
Not that he could trust a Yarrow. They were all up to something.
He extended his hand, palm up. “Give me your phone.”
Pulling the pink-cased device from her pocket, she tucked it behind her back as though afraid he’d lunge for it. “Why?”
“You can stay on three conditions. One, while you’re here, no contact with the outside world.”
“What if my family tries to reach me in case of emergency?”
“Tell them to call me.”
“You’re serious.”
He almost smiled at the belligerence in her glare. “Yes.”
“No.”
“It’s the only way you stay.”
Her nostrils flared and a flush of red worked its way up from her chest.
He fought his gaze from dropping there. “Tick-tock. I don’t have all day.”
With a frustrated huff, she unlocked her phone. “Fine. What’s your number?”
Her fingers flew across the keyboard as she typed.
Whoosh. Message sent.
Another whoosh.
Only then did she hand her phone to him. It still held the warmth of her touch.
“You bring a laptop? An iPad?”
Her gaze narrowed as she considered him. Finally, her shoulders drooped. “Laptop.”
“I’ll need that too.”
“What if there’s a work situation?”
Last he heard, she headed up finance at a firm in Seattle. He doubted she had many vacation days. “What’d you tell your work?”
He hadn’t expected a direct answer, but he received one. “I took a leave of absence.”
“Then there shouldn’t be an emergency that involves you.”
She narrowed her eyes at him, but she stalked out of the room, returning with a laptop in a bright floral case that she handed to him. “You think I’m still in contact with Kyle. That I’ll tell him what you’re up to.” Her laugh held no humor. “I’m not. He hasn’t answered any of my emails and my texts bounce back. Trust me, I want to find him as badly as you do.”
Maybe she did. But he’d bet good money her second text hadn’t been to her parents. “When was the last time you two spoke?”
“Six months ago.”
