Page 43 of Preying Heart
“You’re very attractive and tempting,” he says. “But I can’t jeopardize the mission.”
“Mission? Since when have I become a mission? Shall I call myself Operation Seven Figures?”
“Very funny.” He takes my hand from his shoulder and clasps it. “I take it very seriously when someone shoots at me, and the two gray suits are definitely part of the puzzle. We assume they came from Gavin, but we have no proof.”
“We also don’t know if Big Dude is Gavin or someone else,” I point out. “I haven’t seen proof of anything you and Lucy told me this morning. No news reports of Stan’s death. No surveillance video of Lucy’s clinic being broken in. No recordings of the phone call you and Lucy claim to have made to the Big Dude. What’s with it, Heath? I feel like a mushroom in a mushroom farm. Kept in the dark and fed horse dung.”
His face tightens and he sighs, exasperated. Obviously, Lucy left him the hard job of dealing with the prisoner.
“We need to get off this bed before something we both don’t want to happen happens,” he says. “I promised you a tour, so let’s get moving. I have to show you the lay of the land and where the hiding places are.”
“What happened to having me blindfolded that first night and driving with night vision goggles? Or was that just drama to add to my enjoyment?”
He lifts his delectable body from the bed and stands over me with his hands on his hips. “You’re getting free room and board. Free clothes and supplies and free medical care. Why complain about the drama?”
“When’s Lucy coming back?” I stand so he’s not looking down on me. “Think she’s really fine with me wearing her clothes?”
“Lucy is not your concern.” He heads for the door. “We really need to get fresh air.”
“You go ahead. I’m still sore from that torture march through the backwoods and the rough railcar ride. My blisters are still raw.”
“Then what do you want to do?” He backs out the door. “I just think it’s better if we don’t stay behind closed doors.”
“Seeing as how our chaperone, Lucy, is gone, I don’t see how you can avoid it.” I advance on him. “Since we aren’t going to be playing bedroom gymnastics and I’m not doing a strip tease for you, how about you show me your computer?”
“Not my computer. I’ll need to get a clean one for you. One without network access.”
“Why can’t I get on the internet? I’m not stupid. I know about VPNs.”
“It’s not as simple as that,” he says. “I can’t let you access any of my data or my network. I have sensitive information, and I work on projects that shouldn’t see the light of day.”
“Oh, and you’re doing a great job tempting me.” I jut out my lower lip. “Now that I’m a prisoner in your fortress, I have nothing to do. No television. No books to read. No internet. I might as well be in solitary confinement.”
“You have me.” He reaches for my hand. “I haven’t showed you the playroom, have I?”
“Sounds kinky.” I wiggle my shoulders and follow him. The sparks that fly between us are hard to ignore. Heath can fight it if he wants. Me? What do I have to lose? It’s not as if I’m holding on to my purity to be a virginal bride to some prince or something like that. These days, even princes marry women who’ve been around the world. Besides, I’m already pregnant, so that’s not a worry.
Heath leads me to a doorway that I took to be a coat closet. It’s padlocked, but he has a key. He opens it and flicks on an overhead light. The steps are carpeted and lead into a plush basement. The walls are lined with floor-to-ceiling bookshelves filled with leather-bound books, hardcovers, and paperbacks.
A pool table sits in the center of the room, and soft cushiony sectionals face a projection TV screen which rests on a stand full of DVDs and VHS tapes. A pinball machine is tucked in the corner across from an air-hockey table. A card table and folding chairs rest in a cubby next to a bar with a dartboard on one end.
“Is this where you keep your prisoners?” I wander to the base of a rolling ladder propped up on a rail across the top of the bookshelves.
“Not a chance.” His smile is smooth. “This is the playroom for when you behave. If you act up, you get locked up and cuffed to my bed.”
“Sounds delicious. I gather spankings go along with the punishment?”
“You’ve been good, unfortunately.”
“Unlike Lucy.”
“You like to read. You’re welcome to any book in my library. I do have some first editions.” Heath points to a glass-encased section of the shelves. “I have reprints of all of these in the open section, and I’d prefer if you use those.”
I glance at the antique-looking hardbacks and don’t recognize most of the titles. “I’m afraid I’m more of a Nancy Drew and Hardy Boys reader.”
“I have the complete collection.” He crosses over to a wooden chest. “All theHarry Potterbooks, theLord of the Rings,The Chronicles of Narnia, and all fourteen of the original Frank BaumOzbooks.”
“That might have interested me fifteen years ago, but do you have romances?”
