Page 13 of Romancing the Reaper

I dress quickly, but forgo the sweatpants. The shirt is enough to be a makeshift dress on me. I couldn’t tighten the drawstring on the sweatpants properly to make them comfortable. The t-shirt reaches mid-thigh and he’s already seen me naked anyway.

It’s not like I’m not used to being naked around people. It’s part of my job. I have to change quickly and in such a body-focused industry, there really is no place for modesty. But I’ve never been naked in front of a man… intimately.

I towel dry my hair, letting the long locks drip onto the shirt and then I notice a note that was underneath the clothing. I unfold it with one hand, and see Kieran’s scratchy handwriting.

I will get you proper clothes soon. Come to the kitchen when you’re decent.

Decent.

I scoff. I guess he was serious about finding something that I can eat. At least he’s not going to make me starve. Whatever this dynamic is that’s forming between us, I can only describe it as strange. I know that his intentions are still rooted in his desire for revenge, but there are layers to his actions that confuse me.

CHAPTER NINE

Kieran

Fifteen minutes pass.

Thirty.

The shower turned off a long time ago but still no sign of Ada. I could presume that she’s stubbornly attempting to keep from eating anything in front of me. Which, while I understand the reasoning behind it, is just not something that she’s going to be able to get away with.

But, no, that’s not what’s happening. With my job, I have to be alert at all times and with that comes fantastic hearing. I can hear the security pads beeping up and down the hallway as well as various handles moving.

She’s likely attempting to unbolt the bars from the windows with her bare hands. I commend her efforts, but all of her attempts atescaping are going to prove futile. There’s absolutely no way to get out of here without the right codes and keys.

I just have to wait her out. It’s only natural for her to attempt to escape. When she realizes that I’m her only hope of ever breathing free air again, she’ll find her way to the kitchen. This hideout is designed to keep even the most determined prisoner contained.

Sure enough, the beeps give way to crashing sounds of things breaking or being thrown against surfaces. Then the grunts of frustration are replaced by indignant screams. I can’t help but smirk at the growing anger that she must be feeling. I like that she’s feisty, there’s no denying that.

I take the pan off of the stove and place it on an empty burner and wipe my hands off on a dish towel before heading to the living room where she’s yanking on the door with everything that she has.

She rages loudly and shoves her shoulder into the door, the shirt of mine that she’s somehow turned into a dress riding up indecently as she yelps in pain and falls back onto the floor, rubbing her shoulder. Charging the door was a terrible idea. But I gotta give it to her, she’s got moxie.

Shaking my head, I hold out a helping hand to her without saying a word. She’s far too stubborn to accept the help, but I don’t mind taking the few extra moments of hesitation to admire her bare legs in my shirt. She knocks my hand away with the back of her own and pushes herself to stand. Defiance is etchedinto her every feature as she rounds on me, but my smirk only grows into a smile.

“Channeling your inner bull didn’t work out too well for you, did it?”

She looks like she’s about two seconds away from stomping her foot at me.

“By all means,” I continue, gesturing to the rest of the house. “Feel free to keep trying, but it’s not going to get you anywhere. You think I planned this out for this long only to leave a window unlocked?”

Rage shudders through her, and she turns sharply on her heel before stomping her lithe frame all of the way into the kitchen.

She probably thinks that I don’t hear the groan of satisfaction when she smells the food that I’ve been making, but I hear it. I won’t deny how fucking pleased that it makes me. Nothing too fancy, steak and eggs but it seems to be something universally liked.

I silently make her plate while she pretends not to be salivating.

“It’s going to make things a hell of a lot easier if you stop pretending to be so mad about all of this. You would think a girl would love being attended to.” I chuckle and cut her steak up for her before pushing it toward her with a small helping of eggs. I push her fork forward, and to her credit she doesn’t immediatelyattempt to turn it into some sort of weapon to be used against me. There might be hope for this yet.

I dig into my own portion slowly, watching absently as she pushes the food around the plate.

Five minutes.

Ten.

Not a single bite has been taken.

“Is that how you used to pass this off? Pushing food around until enough time has passed and then you can excuse yourself?” I ask, but my irritation with her antics bleeds into my tone despite my best efforts to stop it.

---