Page 50 of Suspicion

There was no malice in his voice, and in some distant part of herself, Ella acknowledged the pang of guilt that echoed inside. She was duping him—again—but what else could she do? The man had taken her prisoner, bound her, and made her call him ‘sir.’ Ella had no choice. She would do whatever it took to get away.

“Okay, sir.” Her head fell forward, dismissing the sight of him until only the tips of his boots were visible.

“I’ll be back soon.” He turned and walked away, once again leaving her dangling, but this time was different.

This time, he’d made a miscalculation.

Tucker had underestimated her.

This time, Ella would win.

Part Three

Unraveling

Chapter One

The Hunt

Tucker

He stalked to the cabin door, glancing back at Ella one last time. She was still where he’d left her, chin to her chest. His brow rose at her show of submission. On the one hand, she was an absolute picture and as sexy as hell as she hung from the ancient tree’s branch, but on the other… he couldn’t quite silence the nagging voice that told him he was being a fool.

She’s tricking you. Its voice goaded. Waiting for you to turn your back before she runs.

“No.” He whispered the word aloud.

Ella had been genuinely ill. She hadn’t faked the copious quantities of vomit she’d spewed or the way the blood had drained from her as she retched on the ground. He was certain the last day had stripped her of both hope and energy, and that was a dangerous combination to lose.

Yes, he wanted to keep her, but he didn’t want to slowly kill her in the process. His best-case scenario saw her becoming his bedmate, a woman he could enjoy while she shared the cabin, but that wouldn’t happen unless she was healthy.

“She needs the water.” He turned back to the door, conscious of his responsibilities. Ella should never have needed to ask for the water. He should have already provided it. Frankly, it was the least she deserved. Even prisoners received food and water, didn’t they, and she wasn’t his prisoner.

His feet halted at the conclusion.

Isn’t she?

Straightening, he denied the urge to peer back and check she was still there. Of course, she was there. The woman was weak and listless. Where else would she be? She needed him, needed the water he would bring, yet still, he insisted on tormenting her with his delay.

Determined to do the right thing for once in his life, he lurched forward into the cabin, his gaze scanning the area for a suitable cup. He couldn’t use the one he’d chucked into the hay yesterday. That would need a proper clean, but he was sure there was another around there somewhere.

Searching beneath the counter to no avail, his gaze landed on the small bottle of cologne he’d used before her arrival. Tucker hadn’t worn scent for years—the rabbits and trees didn’t care how he smelled—but knowing she was coming had inspired him to dig out his old favorite. The tiny glass bottle was one of the final remnants of his old lifestyle.

He moved back to the fireplace, looking for something suitable for her to drink from. There, by the side of the hearth, was the blue vessel he’d had in mind. Striding toward it, he grabbed the cup and assessed its condition. Cleaner than the original one, it would still need a quick wash to pass as acceptable—especially to the eyes of someone who’d lived such a charmed life as Ella.

He smiled as he dunked it into the bowl of water she’d used to wash her hands, grateful that his newest critic wasn’t there to evaluate his performance. He might be the one in charge, but she always seemed to have an opinion about everything. He had no doubt she’d look poorly at his cleanliness. Hadn’t she already condemned his hygiene?

“Little bitch,” he muttered, but the laugh that followed showed how little he meant the insult.

Ella’s arrival brought hassle and inconvenience, but he had to admit she’d been a welcome distraction from the routines of his daily life. While he had to work out a way to continue hunting and enjoying the great outdoors without worrying about her fleeing every time he left the cabin, the problem bothered him less as he dried the cup with the same towel that had swaddled the offending pie.

He wasn’t sure why, but he felt they’d find a way through and create a dynamic that worked for them both. That things would be all right.

The thought buoyed him, as turning back to the meal he’d cooked and shared, he recalled his guest’s unexpected reaction. She’d enjoyed the pie at the time she was eating, but sadly, it didn’t appear to have done her much good.

“Poor little girl.” He shook his head as he headed back to the door, cup in hand. “We’re going to have to harden your constitution for you to thrive out here.”

Tucker was still chuckling at the unpleasantness as he stepped out onto the decking and headed for the tap. He’d get her the water she’d so nicely asked for, help her to drink it, then bring her inside to rest. Maybe they could start to reach an accord after that—a stalemate where they each learned to trust the other a little more?

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