Page 23 of Prohibited

“Mrs. Colter,” Alex said, dipping his head toward the woman, trussed up like a barn animal. “Pleasure seeing you.” He picked up his suit jacket from where he’d left iton a crate outside of the cell. A dark laugh trailed him to the door of the room, which he closed behind him.

Lindsay let out a breath and slowly raised his eyes to the woman who sat staring at him with wide eyes. Lindsay got his good foot under him and put one hand on either side of his leg brace, straightening it slowly. He grabbed his cane on the way up and rested it against the metal bars of the cell.

Then he paused and folded his arms at his waist, tucked a hand under his chin, surveying the damage.

“He sure did a number on you.” Lindsay shook his head, ran his tongue along his bottom lip. He moved closer, but she started to scoot away from him, fear and anger lighting her beautiful face. Lindsay held up his hands and said, “I won’t hurt you. I just want to see what he did. I promise, I’ll untie you.”

She swallowed audibly, eyeing him with suspicion. “Thank you for your concern,” she said, shaking voice dripping with sarcasm.

He held up his hands and moved a little closer. She cringed away from him. “I won’t hurt you.”

“And why wouldn’t you?” she said, body tightening in on itself. “Your other two friends had no trouble with it.”

Two friends? Ryan too? The thought made him furious.

“I will not hurt you,” he said again, firmly. “I just want to see what he did to you.”

They stayed like that for a long moment while he waited patiently for her blessing to approach.

Then finally she said, “Are you really going to untie me?”

“That’s all. I promise.”

At last, she inclined her head and stayed still but rigid, moving awkwardly to her feet when he took her by the elbows and helped her up, hoping he wouldn’t go off balance and knock them both sideways.

The smell of her suddenly enveloped his senses. Delicate notes of a floral perfume. Sweat. The metallic smell of blood. And underneath all of that, the rich smell of her body that made his mouth go dry with desire.

She stood there mutely while he pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and began to wipe at the blood that was starting to turn tacky on her flesh. The cut was just above her breast. A shameful blemish in the perfection of her skin. He frowned at it.

“I don’t think you’ll need stitches,” he said.

“My hands,” she said with restrained urgency and anger.

“Of course,” he said. He tucked the handkerchief into his pocket and then made quick work of the belt that was turning her hands a mottled red and purple.

“Wh–” he started to say, but she flew at him.

Well, he should have seen that coming. He almost went over sideways because she caught him off balance on his bad leg, throwing her fists at his face. She clocked him in the jaw, which stunned him for a moment, but he righted himself, grabbed one of her wrists, and flipped her around, capturing her other flailing arm so that both of her arms were crossed across her body. Then he wrapped his arms around her, trapping her neatly against him.

“Bastard!” she said, voice boiling with fury. She stomped her bare feet onto the toes of his leather boots, not doing much damage. Poor thing.

She tried to throw her head back, but he pressed the side of his face against hers to keep her from breaking his nose. It felt strangely intimate. Being this close to her only served to fan the flames of his desire. Gazing down the length of her body quickened his pulse. Her breasts swelled deliciously above her crossed arms.

“Stop,” he said firmly, trying to shake himself back into the moment.

“Let me go,” she said and drew in a breath that was nearly a sob.

“I can’t,” he said simply. “And for better or worse, I’m the only person in this place who is actually opposed to killing you, so if you could refrain from trying to kill me, I would greatly appreciate it.”

She stilled, likely caught off guard. “What do you want?” she asked at last. Her body slackened a little.

“I want to let go of you and I want you to go sit on the cot while I get you something to eat and drink.”

“Fine,” she said at last. She still didn’t trust him, as she shouldn’t.

“And understand, even if you get through me, Alex and Ryan are on the other side of that door. And we both know that you will not get through them.”

She said nothing, but he felt her slump a little more like some of the fight went out of her. It almost made him sad.

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