Page 105 of While You Were Spying

She saw the muscle in his jaw tick but otherwise he gave no indication of anger.

“I didn’t go far from the house! I didn’t think—”

“We’ll discuss your lapse in judgment later.” He frowned at her. “At length. Right now I want details. Where were you attacked?” He leaned forward, his look piercing. “How did you come to be in the tack room?”

She curled her fingers around the arms of the chair. The wood was worn and smooth underneath her tight grip. The feeling of safety she’d been basking in clouded over.

“He—” She felt the tremble of fear waiting to erupt once again, just beneath the surface of her self-control. She wrapped her arms around herself, trying to still the shaking in her hands and legs.

Ethan knelt down beside her and lightly rubbed her scratched upper arms. Still, she winced with pain.

“Did he speak to you?”

“Yes.” She closed her eyes, trying to shut out the images flooding her brain.

“What did he say?”

“That I deserved what he was going to do to me.”

“What else?” His voice seemed so far away.

“There was something familiar about his voice,” she managed.

His hands on her arms tightened. “Tell me.”

She opened her eyes then looked away, but not before she saw the flash of comprehension in his eyes.

“You know him.”

It was a statement, and she acknowledged it with a nod.

“Who?”

His voice was harsh and low, and she glanced at him quickly, a little afraid at his murderous tone.

“I don’t know,” she whispered. “But he—” She gripped the chair tighter; her stomach rolled. Ethan’s hold on her arms softened, but even with that small comfort she had to look down as she said it.

“He called me Cesca.”

She heard his quick intake of breath and looked up to gauge his reaction. It was unreadable.

“Only friends and family call me that.” Her voice shook, but Ethan’s firm control, his steady gaze kept her calm.

“That narrows the list of suspects considerably.”

She frowned, trying to make herself believe what he implied, what she knew as well.

“I refuse to believe it’s someone I know,” she said. “I cannot believe that. The man...h-he taunted me. Maybe the name was one more way to hurt me.”

Ethan’s hands on her arms tightened, and she glanced down at them. He released her, grasping the arms of the chair beside her own hands. “He hurt you?”

“I’m fine,” she said quickly.

“Did he—” His voice faltered, and she felt the chair shudder from the power of his grip. “Did he—violate you?”

She felt her cheeks explode into flame and quickly looked away. “No,” she whispered. “You were just in time.”

He let out a long, slow breath, and she felt some of his tension ease. “Thank God.”

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