Page 30 of Tainted Obsession 1
I don’t care for his imperious tone, but my mouth is suddenly dry as a desert. I can’t deny that I’ve experienced trauma tonight, and I’m still feeling weak in the aftermath.
I have to keep up my strength and my wits if I’m going to get out of this.
My fingers tremble slightly, but I manage to take the glass from him. I drain the water in a few big gulps.
I guess I needed it more than I realized. It’s weird that Massimo is taking care of me like this. He anticipated my needs.
Before I can fully contemplate my captor’s odd behavior, he takes the empty glass from me and sets it down on the counter.
“It’s my turn to get cleaned up.” His eyes fix on mine, shining with suspicion. “If I let you out of my sight, you’re going to try to run.”
It’s not a question. My trepidation must be written all over my face—if I can’t fight him off, flight is my only other option.
I struggle to smooth my expression to something meek and bewildered. “I won’t.”
His lips pinch, as though he’s bitten into something sour. “Don’t lie to me, Evelyn.”
Another lie teases at the tip of my tongue, but I swallow it down. There’s no hiding from his keen gaze.
“Let me leave,” I plead instead. “I won’t tell anyone about what happened tonight. You saved my life, and I owe you for that. I won’t betray you to the cops, I swear.”
He cocks his head at me. “You really mean that.”
Again, it’s not a question. Massimo is clearly astute at reading people. Or maybe I’m too raw from my trauma to hide my emotions.
I nod. “Let me go, and I won’t say a word to anyone. Don’t keep me as bait for George. Please, I?—”
“Don’t say his name.” Massimo’s eyes turn stormy. “I’m not keeping you as bait. You’re here for your own protection.”
All of my muscles tense, my body instinctively going on high alert. But before I can even think about evading him, his arms close around me. Once again, I find myself cradled against his hard chest.
“What are you doing?” I ask, my voice shaking slightly.
Despite my worry over the unknown, true fear doesn’t grip my mind. His compelling scent suffuses my senses like a calming drug, and his hold on my body is achingly gentle, despite his strength.
He carries me into the bedroom and sets me down on the enormous four-poster bed. My heart flutters with unease. I’m naked beneath Massimo’s huge shirt, and we’re alone in his bedroom. His proprietary hands touch me as though he has every right.
“I’m going to make sure you don’t try anything foolish,” he tells me, tone firm. “I don’t want to have to deal with Duarte’s men if they catch you making an attempt to leave the building.”
“I won’t…” The protest dies in my throat when his eyes flash in warning.
I don’t dare lie and say I won’t try to escape the moment his back is turned. Staying here willingly isn’t an option, and I’ll do whatever I can to get away from the criminals in this building.
“Stay,” he commands, giving my waist a light squeeze to impress his order upon me.
Warmth pulses from his hands through my belly, gathering between my legs.
Before I can process my reaction, he steps away, quickly crossing to the chest of drawers on the other side of the room.
My stomach drops when I see the rope coiled around his fist. I scramble back, nearly falling off the mattress in my haste to put distance between myself and the predator prowling toward me.
He’s on me before I get to my feet, his sure hands clasping my ankles and dragging me back to the center of the bed.
“This won’t hurt,” he says, completely calm and unaffected by my struggles. “Don’t fight me.”
His long fingers ensnare my wrists, pulling my arms behind my back. Rough hemp rope lashes around my forearms, binding them so that my wrists press together, my fingertips touchingmy opposite elbows. The position isn’t uncomfortable; it doesn’t put any strain on my shoulders. But being immobilized and made helpless causes me to thrash wildly.
He presses his warm palm against the center of my chest, just like when he calmed my panic attack. His chest braces my back, his big arms enfolding me in a perverse hug from behind.
