Page 14 of Taken By the Soldier
Without turning around, he says, “Hungry, princess?” in that infuriatingly deep, sexy voice of his.
Princess. I wish he would stop calling me that. Sometimes it seems like an endearment, other times a taunt. In any case, the anger drains from me when he turns to meet my gaze.
Suddenly, I’m brimming with nerves.
Even without his clothes on, his commanding presence floors me and makes it difficult to speak.
“Um, I guess so. Yes, I’m hungry,” I mumble, my face flaming. Is he doing this on purpose? Or does he always walk around the house in his underwear?
I busy myself with setting the table, trying my best to avoid looking at his sculpted form. He places the food on the table, and we sit down across from one another.
“How are you feeling this morning?” he asks as he places three pieces of bacon on my plate. Next, he adds a generous helping of eggs, followed by the potatoes.
I inhale a shaky breath, wishing his mere presence didn’t make me so unsteady. “I’m feeling pretty good,” I eventually say, picking up a piece of bacon. It’s been so long since I’ve had bacon that I can’t suppress a moan as I take a bite. It’s cooked just the way I like it too—crispy and slightly burnt.
“Eat up, princess. I’m sure you’re famished.” He regards me with a thoughtful expression as he finally tucks into his own meal. “Tell me,” he says, after swallowing a bite of potatoes, “what were you doing in Baltimore of all places? Why didn’t you evacuate before my people struck the East Coast?”
I devour the rest of my scrambled eggs, then dab my mouth with a napkin. “The whole world went to hell when the evacuation order was given. People became violent and unpredictable. My car was stolen, and I didn’t like the idea of trying to pile into a bus—I watched gruesome scenes in the street below my building as people fought one another for a seat on an evacuation bus. Images shown on the news weren’t any better. It seemed safer to stay put and try to wait the war out. I kept thinking it would end soon. None of it felt real and I kept thinking…” My voice trails off and I swallow hard.
“Did you grow up in Baltimore?” he asks.
I nod and try not to think about my childhood, lest I break down in tears.
“What about your family? Parents? Brothers or sisters? Are they still alive?”
My throat burns and nearly closes up. For a long moment, I can’t speak. With a shaking hand, I reach for the fresh-squeezed orange juice and take a sip. Then I take a few deep breaths as I try to suppress the grief that tightens my chest. “No brothers. Just one sister, and she lived in the Zasforr Islands. And my parents… well, they were on vacation in Delaware when the war broke out. They perished in a car accident as they were attempting to travel west. I suppose I’m lucky that I learned what happened to them—a nurse in the hospital they were taken to called me with the tragic news.”
“I’m sorry for your loss, Judith,” he says with so much sincerity in his voice that it’s all I can do to keep from crying. I don’t want his gentleness or his compassion. I don’t want to like anything about him. He’s my captor and nothing more. I refuse to consider him my husband, not when he forced the wedding ceremony upon me.
“Thank you,” I murmur, looking down at my empty plate. Holding his gaze is too dangerous. If I see the faintest glimmer of kindness, it just might break me.
There’s a split second where I almost inquire about his family, but then I press my lips together and let the awkward silence build between us.
I’m going to escape soon. I don’t need to know a thing about him. Doesn’t matter if he lost his family too, and I suppose he must have lost some family members and friends. Had he been married? What about children? My heart breaks at the thought of all the innocent Zasforrans who perished during the nuclear attack.
“What was your profession before the war?” he asks suddenly.
“I was a lawyer,” I say. “A prosecutor.”
His eyes flicker with surprise, but he nods and then focuses on his breakfast. I know where he comes from, most women didn’t work outside the home. And single women who moved to the Zasforr Islands usually had a difficult time finding work. Sophia had vented her frustration to me about that before she finally settled on a position as an administrative assistant, even though she’d held a graduate degree.
I try to push away thoughts of the Zasforr Islands and my sister.
With decent food in my system, I feel stronger and more alert than I have in ages now that the constant haze of hunger has abated. I finally lift my gaze to Luka and notice he’s finished eating. He meets my stare and gives me another one of his hard-to-read looks.
We clear the table together and he quickly loads up the dishwasher. When he returns to the table to finish his coffee and starts reading something on a small, electronic tablet, I don’t know what to do with myself, so I pretend to wipe down the already-spotless counters. I start to leave the kitchen, only for Luka to clear his throat loudly. I feel his gaze hot on my back.
“Sit down, please, Judith,” he says. “There’s something we must discuss.”
My stomach bottoms out at the no-nonsense tone he’s using. I turn around as he shoves his tablet aside and focuses his full attention on me.
Buzzing with apprehension, I slip back into my seat.
“Are you still thinking about running away, princess?”
My mouth goes dry, and my face grows warm. I waver between telling the truth, telling a lie, or just telling him to fuck right off.
“Tell the truth, young lady. I wouldn’t suggest lying to me.”
