Page 14 of Killian's Vengeance

“You’re in the basement of The Red Room,” Cara replied to the question I hadn’t realized I’d spoken aloud.

“The Red Room?”

Cara rolled her eyes like I was a tiresome child. “It’s a sex club. The most elite sex club in Chicago.”

My jaw dropped and Killian nearly snarled. “That’s enough, Cara.”

She shot me another speculative look but gave him a sweet smile of compliance. “Yes, Kill.”

I gasped and gave my captor a horrified look. “Your name is kill?”

He rolled his eyes and gave Cara an annoyed look. “You can go.”

Cara gave him another pout and flounced out the door, shutting it behind her.

He was still holding my arms and my desire to run for the door was mounting steadily. I had to get out of here. Sensing my growing anxiety, he gave a small growl of annoyance, his thumb rubbing softly against my arm in a clear attempt to calm me down. “My name isn’t kill, as in murder. It’s Kill, short for Killian.”

My body relaxed slightly, feeling a little silly. “Oh.”

His hand cradled my jaw again “Willa, I’m not going to kill you. Please, just let yourself take a shower, put some clothes on and eat, then give me ten minutes of your time.” His eyes bored into mine, as if willing me to believe him. To obey him.

Why wasn’t I slapping him in the face? Or laughing in it, considering his ludicrous request? Why was I so swayed by his intense, softly worded requests?

Goddamned Stockholm syndrome.

Sighing in annoyance, more at myself than him, I gave in. “Fine, I’ll shower and listen to whatever argument you’re going to try and pitch me to get me to not press charges.” I said it in a tone that implied he was wasting his time, but if he was smart, he’d realize the fact that I was still here was a victory in itself.

His eyes warmed with delighted satisfaction at my decision and it was captivating. Pleasing him gave me a shiver of…something in my gut. Something hot and alluring. I shook my head to dispel the feeling.

“Good. Thank you, Willa,” he said in a soft, deep voice. As he spoke, I focused on his lips. They’d been twisted into a displeased snarl or flattened in an annoyed line in our previous interactions. They now appeared soft, supple, tempting.

Why was everything he was doing suddenly some kind of aphrodisiac?

He released me and walked over to the large wardrobe. I tensed in remembered pain and anxiety but let out a breath when he opened a drawer and pulled out two fluffy, blue towels.

He opened the door to the bathroom and heat surged to my cheeks remembering him standing there and listening to me while I peed. “Come,” he said, beckoning me forward toward the bathroom. I wanted to take issue with the curtness of his command, but god I needed a shower.

He put the towels down on the toilet and turned on the water for the shower. I was surprised and thrilled to see it contained many expensive bath products. I was practically vibrating with the need to hop in.

He checked the water for a moment, then turned to me. “Keep the water at this temperature. Any hotter will aggravate the marks on your back.”

I reached my hand in and grimaced in dismay. “It’s way too cold,” I complained.

He stared at me momentarily, his expression hardening slightly. “Willa, do as I say. I know what I’m talking about.”

Killian was so bossy. It was like he forgot that I held the power now. Though, I had to admit, it was hard to imagine him feeling powerless, no matter the circumstance.

I sighed. “Okay, I’ll leave it there.” This was a lie, of course. I just needed to get him out of here.

As if he could see inside my head and read my every intention, he took a step closer to me, flattening me against the wall beside the shower. His hand went up to bracket my throat lightly, his thumb rubbing against my fluttering pulse. “Promise me. Promise me you won’t touch the water temperature.”

He was mesmerizing me with his demanding stare, his dominating presence. “Okay,” I whisper.

He ducked his mouth by my ear. “‘I promise I won’t touch it, Killian.’ Say it,” he demanded. His voice may have been soft, but the intensity of his words was anything but.

He pulled back to stare me in the eye, urging me to repeat the words. “I…I promise I won’t touch it, Killian.”

His thumb now moved to rub my lower lip, as if the truthfulness of my words could be evaluated by touching my mouth. “What happens if you touch it, Willa? Do I get to punish you if you disobey?”

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