Page 41 of The Devil's Deal

I haven’t sleptat all. My eyelids ache, and my body feels as though I need a pound of caffeine just to function. When I do end up sleeping, I know I’m going to crash.

I glance around the expansive bedroom, looking for a clock, but there is none. The room is more like three bedrooms in a regular house. I wonder how huge this place is. By the looks of this room, I’m sure it’s massive.

There’s nothing in here besides a nightstand, a flat-screen TV that takes up three-quarters of the wall, and the armchair he was on. Oh, and the bed holding me hostage, of course. Can’t forget that.

I wish he’d tell me what this is about. I need to know so I can somehow convince him I’m on his side.

That won’t be much of a stretch. Under normal circumstances, I’d never consider helping my captor, but we’re not in normal circumstances. My father is a scumbag who hurts people whenever it benefits him. I’m sure he did something awful to this man. If helping him means I can get out of here alive, then I’ll do whatever the hell he wants.

The door jolts, and my body goes into alert, my pulse racing within my neck. I try to sit up, but I keep sliding down.

With a creak, the door parts, and in walks the man of my dreams and nightmares, carrying a tray. He’s changed, now wearing a dark blue button-down rolled up one side, exposing a tanned arm without tattoos, unlike his other.

A gray tie sits obediently over his neck, matching his gray slacks. He exudes powerful masculinity and all the things I crave in a man. Too bad that man decided to be a psycho. Figures those are the types I’d be most attracted to.

He lays the tray down on the nightstand beside me. “Slept well?”

“No. I didn’t,” I say with a glare, the words rushing out from behind gritted teeth.

“I’m sorry my hotel is unsatisfactory. I hope we don’t get a bad Yelp review.”

“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

He chuckles. “So much. You havenoidea.”

“You live here alone?” I dive right into getting more information.

“Why? Want to move in?” He bathes my body with a smoldering gaze. “You do look good on my bed.”

“Not even if you paid me.” After a few seconds of silence, I speak up again. “You’re as bad as him. Do you realize that?”

His brow wrinkles in question. “Who?”

“My father. Who else?”

His nostrils flare, and his breaths fall harshly out of his lungs. “I’mnothinglike him.”

“No? Could’ve fooled me. You kidnap me, tie me up, treat me like a savage.”

“We could look at it that way. But I haven’t actually hurt you, have I?” He lifts the top off the tray, and the whiff of sweet goodness hits my nostrils. “And as you can see, I’ve brought you a cappuccino and a tray full of berry-filled crepes and some bagels. I know for a fact that your father doesn’t treatyouthat way, let alone his victims.”

That part stings. Knowing that a stranger knows my father treats me badly is more embarrassing than I’ll ever admit out loud.

“Bringing me food doesn’t make you a good guy. You’re still holding me against my will.”

“I am, and I could say I’m sorry, but I’m not. And like I said earlier, you won’t be harmed. Not unless you don’t behave.” His lips wind into a sneer, causing my insides to twist right along with them.

“Children are told to behave,” I fight back. “I’m a grown woman.”

He lets out a deep laugh. “I like that little fire inside you, but it’s useless here, I’m afraid.”

My gaze lands on his, and the comeback I had planned in response vanishes from the ravenous way he looks at me. It’s like he does one thing, but his eyes say another.

I swallow down the weighty lump in my throat, finding it hard to tear my gaze away.

He grips the back of his neck, his lids drifting to a close for such a quick second, I’m not sure if he actually did it.

Picking up the tray, he sits beside me and cuts off a piece of crepe with a fork.

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