Page 80 of Ruthless

Opening her bag, she found her bottle of vanilla spray. She traveled so much, and when a room felt stuffy, or she needed a little taste of home, she used it to enhance her comfort. She refused to give him props for wanting her to feel comforted.

Digging deeper into the bag, she found two sets of pajamas, two pairs of jeans, a pair of khakis, three shirts, two T-shirts, and a handful of colorful panties and bras. She also found a half-dozen pairs of socks but saw no shoes. She didn’t wonder why. He wanted her to have warm feet, but shoes might encourage her to run away. If he thought she wouldn’t run barefoot, he didn’t know her as well as she’d thought.

Taking underwear and some clothes, she turned to the open door where she could see a vanity. First, she would shower and pull herself together. Going out to confront him while groggy and furious would do nothing but make her look deranged. Cool, calm logic was the only way she was going to get out of here.

On the way to the bathroom, she stopped to look out a large window. The massive snowy mountains in the distance didn’t look familiar. She drew in a breath and mentally shrugged. No matter. Wherever he’d stashed her, she didn’t plan on staying long.

The bathroom was fortunately updated, and the water in the shower had a powerful flow. She stood beneath the flood and focused on what she needed to do. First, she would find out how her father and Alex were and whether there was any word on Nicolas’s plane. Then she would sit down with Gideon and let him know exactly how it was going to be. She didn’t anticipate him agreeing right off, but he had always been a reasonable person. He had to see that what he’d done was beyond an outrage. Their future as partners, or even friends, was on the shakiest ground ever. As a romantic couple? It was over. Done with. He had to have known once he did this that she would never forgive him.

Her broken heart wanted to grieve, but she refused to allow the emotion. If she didn’t stay detached, there would be no telling how unhinged she might become.

Deliberately keeping her mind blank, she finished her shower, dried off, and dressed. Her lotions, deodorant, toothpaste, toothbrush, and cosmetics were on the counter. Gideon had taken care of everything. She expected nothing less.

She took a hard look at herself in the mirror. Her face was bruised, her mouth was swollen from her busted lip, and she had a dozen or so small, fingerprint bruises encircling her neck. She also had numerous bruises covering her torso, shoulders, and arms. With the life she lived, she was used to bruises, and though they weren’t comfortable, she’d learned to live with them. They were nothing more than an aggravation. These were no different.

She brushed her teeth and hair and allowed herself a minimum of makeup. She walked back into the bedroom. The music had stopped, and by the fragrance wafting through the air, Gideon had prepared a meal. She hadn’t been able to find her cellphone, and there were no clocks in the room, so there was no way for her to tell the time. However, the shadows on the mountain indicated it was likely late afternoon or early evening. She’d been unconscious for at least six hours, if not more.

Straightening her shoulders, she drew in a bracing—mindful of her bruised ribs— shallow breath and opened the door.

Let the battle begin.

* * *

Gideon stood at the kitchen door, waiting for Eve to appear. He knew she was up. He’d heard the shower turn on and off and figured she was now dressing, preparing herself for a showdown. And there would be one, he had no doubt about that.

She had slept longer than he’d thought she would. The drug he’d given her should have knocked her out for about four hours. She’d been unconscious for almost seven. He hadn’t given her too much, but fatigue from little sleep and the attack she’d endured, along with the grief of what had happened to her family, had worn down her reserves. He knew she was mad as hell, but he hoped that she at least felt better physically.

The instant she stepped out of the bedroom, he relaxed his stance and leaned against the doorframe. He knew his cocky attitude would piss her off. However, if he let her see how conflicted he was about what he’d done, she’d use it against him. He wouldn’t blame her. He would have used it against her if their roles were reversed. So he’d take her fury and deal with his guilt on his own time.

A familiar rage filled him as he took in her appearance. When he’d put her in her sleep clothes, he’d seen the damage her attackers had done to her. Multiple bruises covered her body, not counting the bruises on her face and the necklace of bruises around her neck. If Eve hadn’t been as well trained as she was, she would be dead.

She hadn’t tried to cover her bruises. There was no need. However, she had applied a little color to her cheeks and some shiny balm to her swollen lips.

Gauging her mood wasn’t difficult. The furious gleam in her eyes told him all he needed to know.

“Good evening.” He kept his voice amicable but cool. “Dinner is ready.”

She stayed by her bedroom door, not coming closer. “What news do you have of my family?”

“Your father is better. He’s still weak, but the doctors don’t believe he ingested enough of the poison to have done irreparable harm. They’re still doing tests to see what kind of poison it was. Alexandre came through surgery fine. The wound wasn’t as severe as they feared. He’ll likely be released tomorrow.”

“And Nicolas?”

This was the hard part. “Wreckage was found on the surface of the Adriatic Sea. There’s a major storm going on, and they’ve had to postpone the search. They found no survivors before that.”

Her jaw was tense as she absorbed the news. “Does anyone know where they were headed?”

“The flight plan indicated Athens.”

“Camille has family there. Do they know what happened? Why it went down?”

“No. They won’t be able to determine that until they’re able to recover the wreckage. The storm is supposed to calm down tomorrow, so they hope to be able to gather as much of the plane as possible.”

“It’s unlikely anyone survived, isn’t it?”

“I doubt it,” he said quietly.

She took a breath and said, “I want to talk to my father.”

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