Page 51 of Oh No, My Kidnapper Is Hot!

More tears fall as I try to meld with my car, clinging to her as though I could physically fuse into the paint. This goes on for several minutes before Stryker gently pries me away. I fight him every inch.

“I’ll bring you back to see her after our swim,” he promises. “And we can walk down here anytime you’d like.”

I make a pathetic whiny noise, which shockingly does not convince him to go on without me, leaving me with my baby while he swims alone.

I dry my face with the sleeve of my coat as he drags me toward a large building to the right of the parking lot. It’s a big square blue structure with a hand-painted sign declaring it “Le Assassin Pool” in bold yellow letters. Hot pink and orange flowers dot the background – Heidi’s signature touch, which I’ve seen on her front door as we pass her house every morning.

The inside of the building has more flowers. They cover the walls and ceiling, and there are even a few delicate blooms painted on the tiles surrounding the pool. The pool itself is bigger than I expected, with steam rising from its surface, making the air hot and damp.

Stryker strides over to a row of mismatched lockers along the far wall. Each locker is decorated, revealing a bit of its owner’s personality. Archie’s locker is unmistakable, adorned with a massive chicken sticker. Heidi’s is a canvasof painted flowers and succulents on a light pink background. The pale blue one with a single, tiny bunny sticker must be Rosie’s. Baz’s locker is black and slowly being overtaken by Heidi’s flowers, which flow from her locker next to his. Stryker opens a locker that matches Baz’s in color but is devoid of decorations.

He gestures to a deep emerald green locker with a pat.

“This one’s yours, if you want to put your clothes in it,” he says. “It should have a couple of towels, some goggles, flippers, and a swim cap. Archie’s locker has some divers and other things if you want something to play with. Snacks are through there,” he adds, pointing to a door outlined in bright yellow on the side of the large room. “If you think of anything else you need, just let me know. Anything at all. Yeah?”

I nod, and he returns the gesture before turning back to his own locker.

“Turn around for a minute, darlin’. I’m going to change.”

I whip around, nearly slipping on the damp tiles.

“All good,” he announces a minute later. I wait a few more seconds before cautiously turning around. I flush.

He wasn’t lying. His swimming attire is even smaller than his hiking shorts, highlighting the tattoos on his thighs in a way that leaves little to the imagination. I can see the top of the kraken’s head and a glimpse of the sea serpent that was previously hidden.

I move my eyes to the ceiling, making involuntary pit stops at his stomach, chest, mouth, eyes, and hair.Whyis every part of this man so freaking beautiful?

He’s trying to kill me. I just know he is.

I hear his footsteps approach the pool followed by a splash as he goes in.

Careful not to look his way, I approach the greenlocker. It holds everything Stryker said it would – all in varying shades of green. My heart absolutely does not melt at the sight. Not one bit.

I shed everything but my swimsuit, cramming my outdoor gear into the locker’s empty space. My back prickles with the weight of Stryker’s eyes. I pretend not to feel them. If I don’t feel them, then they aren’t there.

Deep breaths, Millie. You can do this.

I turn around.

Oh. I didn’t need to pretend anything. Stryker eyes are nowhere near me.

He’s underwater, powerful arms propelling him through the pool. Quickly, before he resurfaces, I step into the water. My chin dips below the surface as he emerges on the other side.

The steam between us softens his features, making him look like something out of a dark dreamland fantasy as he raises one strong arm to wipe wet curls from his face. Water is dripping everywhere. Off his nose – his bicep. Down his shoulders. It meets the pool’s surface at his chest, just above where his nipples would be.

Don’t think about his nipples.

I pull my gaze away from dangerous territory only to find myself in even more perilous ground. His eyes are on me – intense, focused.

I gulp.

He makes his way back to my side of the pool, gliding smoothly through the water — an angel of death come to take me.

You know, if an angel of death was huge, hot, and half-naked.

He reaches me seconds after I manage the harrowing task of dragging my gaze to a safer location. Namely, his neck. No risk there.

“You planning to choke me, sweetheart?” he asks. My eyes dart to my feet with a squeak. He chuckles.

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