Page 22 of Dragon Exposed

Without another word, I stepped back, flicked off the overhead light, and headed upstairs, plunging our guest into complete darkness.

I’d let him stew a while before Izobelle and I worked him over.

9

The Voices in my Head

IZOBELLE

Iwas trapped in a house with a psychopath.

I thought the whole dragon-kidnapping thing would be the worst of it, but nope. Clearly, I wasn’t the only one he wanted to torture out here in the middle of nowhere.

Was I even still in the U.S.? Or had he carried me over country borders? Were we in the wilds of Canada now?

God, if I’d illegally crossed borders, how was I ever going to get home? If I could even get away from him.

And then there were all those clothes in the closet. All close to my size, but clearly tailored, well cared for. Did he do this often? Were there skeletons buried all over those woods? Or did a dragon just devour their victims whole?

A soft knock on the door startled me, and I pressed my back against the wall, clutching the kitchen knife in both hands.

“Izobelle? I brought you some clothes to change into. Food and coffee too.”

Oh, he was good, learning my weaknesses, trying to tempt me to trust him.

Like that was ever going to happen.

“Can you open the door? I’m not going to hurt you.”

“Just go away. I’m not going to let you do whatever the hell depraved ideas you have for me.” I shifted so that I could watch the door handle more carefully. Could he break through my barricade? “What do you even want with me? Whyme?” The last word came out a lot shakier than I intended, and I could feel my knees start to tremble like my legs were going to give out on me. Between the adrenaline, the stress, the fear, and only one cup of coffee in my stomach all day, I was shaky as shit, and if he did manage to get into this room, I didn’t have any real hope that I’d be able to fight him off.

Somewhere in the back of my mind, the memory of his lips on mine drifted through my head, like a reminder of just how far he’d gone to try to get me to trust him.

What scared me most of all was that there was a voice in my head telling me to fear him, but also there was a voice telling me I could trust him. Which meant, I couldn’t even trust myself.

Had he always planned on bringing me out here? Surely there would’ve been a more opportune time to do it, somewhere darker, with less cameras, less media coverage.

None of this was adding up, and it just make the migraine worse.

“I’m going to leave a bag outside the door, so you can get more comfortable. I can’t imagine you want to spend all night in your work clothes.” His voice sounded calm, soft even, like he was trying to keep me from freaking out.

Was this just another one of his sick mind games? Kidnap me, and then make me fall in love with him, like this was a romance novel where the heroine was too swayed by a gorgeous pair of green eyes and a broad chest to see what was really going on?

“Izobelle, I don’t know what happened between Sunday and today, but I swear to you, I’m still the guy who took you on a carriage ride around Central Park. I’m still the guy who believes in vampires and wants to help you stop the one who hurt you.”

My fingers reached up and traced the scars on my neck, the bite marks that I hardly shared with anyone. I’d made up a hundred stories over the years, excuses for what had really happened. “Just leave me alone.”

“You have to eat something. Can’t I at least tempt you into coming downstairs for coffee and a muffin? Or I could cook for you.” His voice lifted a little at the end, like he was hopeful that I’d actually let him cook for me.

But what would a dragon cook? Is that why there was a guy trapped in the basement now?

When I didn’t answer, I heard him let out an exasperated sounding sigh, and then a thump of something. “Just think about it. A cup of coffee is safe, right? And muffins from your favorite café?”

My stomach rumbled in response, but I still didn’t answer. I didn’t want to give this monster hope.

Even if there was still some part of my brain clinging to how incredibly hot his kisses were, how feeling him get hard against my thigh had made me wet.

It wasn’t enough for me to walk willingly into the jaws of a beast.

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