Page 18 of Mountain Captive

“Yeah.”

“Can I ask you a personal question?”

“You can ask. That doesn’t mean I’ll answer.”

“Fair enough. The blue hair and the tattoos—is that a fashion choice or another way of disguising yourself?”

She didn’t say anything for so long he thought he might have offended her. But he had learned early in his medical career about the value of giving people plenty of time to answer hard questions. “A little of both, I think,” she said. “My mother dyed my hair the day we escaped the camp, and I kept changing it over the years so I would look unfamiliar to anyone who knew me before. As for the tattoos—” she held out her arm “—we were taught that religious offerings were supposed to be perfect. Unblemished. I think in the back of my head I thought the Exalted would view a tattoo as an imperfection. That’s why I got the first one, but after that, I liked it. It was another artistic expression.” She shifted in the seat. “Why do you ask?”

“Just curious. They seem to suit you.”

He pulled up to the door at the back of her building this time and met her beneath the light, waiting while she unlocked the outside entrance. They mounted the stairs side by side. She glanced down at his hand tensed at his side, as if reaching for something. “Are you carrying a gun?” she asked.

“Yes.” He pulled up his shirt enough to show a holstered pistol. “I was in the military for years. I got used to walking around armed.”

She nodded and they continued to her door. Once there, she turned to face him. “Look, I appreciate your concern. I really do. But these people are unpredictable. They seem nice and normal, until they aren’t.”

“I know that already. Remember, I’ve dealt with a cult before. They reel people in by appearing perfectly sensible and smarter than everyone else.”

“Right. It’s just...if something goes wrong, don’t blame yourself, okay? You’re not responsible for me. I’m not your sister.”

Her expression was so earnest, her dark eyes so full of concern. As if she was more worried about him than about herself. His gaze shifted to her lips, full and slightly parted. “I don’t feel about you like I do my sister.” The words emerged more gruffly than he had planned. Then he yielded to temptation and kissed her.

For a fraction of a breath, she became a statue once his lips were on hers, unmoving. Not breathing. Then she pressed one hand to his chest, fingers slightly curled, seeking purchase. She arched into him, returning the kiss. He cupped his hand to her cheek, her skin hot, as if blushing at his touch. With a breathy moan, her lips parted, and she pressed against him, fitted to him, supple and strong. He wrapped both arms around her, cradling her to him yet holding back, his feelings so intense he feared crushing her.

She broke the kiss and stared up at him, a dazed expression in her eyes. “You’d better go,” she whispered.

He wanted to argue but didn’t. Instead, he reluctantly released his hold and waited while she unlocked her door and disappeared inside. He heard the dead bolt engage, then turned and moved away, down the stairs and into the darkness. So much of him was still there on that landing, wrapped up in that unexpected kiss.

He didn’t see the person who came up behind him, only felt his presence and started to turn; then something hard crashed into his head, driving him to his knees. “Chris!” he tried to shout, but the word came out as a murmur as darkness swallowed him.

Chapter Seven

Chris sank onto the sofa, head back, eyes closed. That kiss! She hadn’t even realized she was interested in Rand that way—that climb-his-body, take-me-now, where-have-you-been-all-my-life, passion-turned-up-to-ten kind of way—and then she was. When had she ever been kissed like that? Never. She hadneverbeen kissed like that. She didn’t let men get that close. But Rand had vaulted right over her defenses and ambushed her with that kiss.

And she had willingly surrendered. Except it hadn’t felt like losing—it felt like winning a grand prize. The rush of victory was overwhelming. It had been all she could do to pull herself together enough to send him away. At least she had that much of a sense of self-preservation left. After years of caution, she wasn’t going to leap off that cliff just yet.

Harley climbed up onto the sofa beside her and began licking her cheek. She opened her eyes and hugged the dog. “I’m okay,” she said. “Everything’s okay.”

Whomp!

The sound jolted her upright. Harley barked loudly, the ridge of hair along his back at attention. Something heavy had hit her door. It came again, an impact that made the door rattle in its frame. Heart pounding painfully, she jumped up, scrambling to free her phone from her pocket. A third impact shook the door, and Harley’s barking became more frantic.

She stabbed at the phone as she moved toward the back door. “Nine-one-one. What is your emergency?”

“Someone is breaking into my apartment.” She reached the kitchen just as the glass in the door’s small window shattered inward. “Please hurry!”

“What is your location, ma’am?”

Chris rattled off her address as she grabbed the chef’s knife from the magnet by the stove. She looked around for anything else she could use as a weapon. The frying pan? A rolling pin? Then she spotted the fire extinguisher and pulled it from its bracket on the wall. “Come on, Harley,” she called, and headed toward the bedroom. She heard the back door give way as she dove into the closet and shut the door behind her and the dog. They would find her soon enough, but she hoped she would be able to hold them off until help arrived.

RANDGROANEDANDtried to sit, but a wave of dizziness dragged him down again. He was aware of noises—someone shouting, pounding footsteps. Then hands grabbed him roughly. He fought back, punching out, and tried to shout, but no words emerged. He tried to open his eyes yet saw nothing but blackness.

“Hey, it’s okay. You’re all right now. You’re safe. Lie still.” The voice was firm but reassuring. Strong hands urged him to lie back, and he surrendered to the pull of gravity. A bright light shone on his face, and he squinted against it. A man he didn’t know peered down at him. “Who are you?” Rand managed to force out.

“I’m Lee. I’m a paramedic with Rayford County Emergency Services. Looks like you hit your head pretty hard. Can you tell me what happened?”

Rand closed his eyes again, trying to remember. “Someone jumped me,” he said.

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