Page 24 of Heart of Danger
“I don’t suppose—” This was so stupid. For all she knew she was going to be killed soon. And yet here she was, morphing into fangrrrl. “I loved her inDangerous Tides. If she’s around, could I meet her? If she doesn’t want to talk about acting I can compliment her on her tacos. They were great.”
“Let’s go.” He took her elbow and started walking. Startled, she had to trot to keep up with his huge strides.
“Where are we going? Am I going to get to meet Stella Cummings?”
“No.” His jaws clenched. “Maybe. Maybe tomorrow. Right now I’m taking you to your room.”
He shut up after that and she couldn’t pry another word out of him. Questions were useless and after a few minutes it took all her breath to keep up with him.
They circled the huge space until they were on the opposite side from the interrogation room and went down a story. He stopped in front of a door and touched a part of the wall that had no distinguishing characteristics. No buttons, no panel, nothing. But when he tapped a specific spot, the door whooshed open.
He gestured with his hand and she moved toward the threshold gingerly, heart pounding. For just a second back there, she’d had the impression that he was…well, not softening toward her, but at least not hugely hostile. And she’d thought maybe they could sit down and talk things over now that she’d read him.
But no. He was ushering her into a dark prison cell. Four walls, no windows.
She walked in slowly, giving a quick glance back at the door. No internal handle. No way out.
A prison. A check of his dark eyes confirmed that.
Nobody on earth knew where she was and her lonely life was such that no one would even think of looking for her. Maybe she was going to be left in this room to die. It wouldn’t take much. Just leave her here until she rotted. No one to know, no one to care.
Just one woman, in a closed room, forgotten. Time passing. Dying locked up, alone, weaker and weaker until the darkness closed in.
Her throat tightened. Her chest wouldn’t—couldn’t—move.
He stepped behind her, that huge body almost pressing against hers. A huge force, pushing air ahead, forcing her to stumble another step inside. Further away from the door, further away from the light of the corridor.
She gasped in a breath, another.I can’t do this, she thought. All her resources were gone. She was exhausted and terrified, a drum beat of terror in her head. A dark tide of it, lapping higher and higher. Soon she would drown in it.
She stumbled another step forward then turned, craning her head a little to look Mac in the face. Any further into the room and his face would be in darkness. As it was, she could barely make out his features from the backwash of light from the doorway.
She had to know, had to. Was she going to be closed up here and left to die?
“May I—may I touch you?” she gasped.
There was barely enough light to see his frown, his head jerking back in astonishment. Without waiting for an answer, she reached for his hand, clasping it in hers.
Heat. That was the first thing she perceived. His huge hand was hot, as if he were a radiator himself. Her own hands were chilled and the heat of his simply sank into her through the skin, sank deep into muscle.
And then—” Ah!”
She let his hand drop, missing the connection, the heat immediately.
No use clinging to him, to a man who distrusted her, who considered her a threat.
But who wasn’t going to kill her. That had come through loud and strong. This wasn’t going to be a permanent prison. However long she was going to be locked up, it wasn’t going to be forever.
Or so she hoped.
Without a word, he swiped at the wall and stepped back beyond the threshold. The door whooshed closed and the room lit up. There was no specific source of light, no lamps and no fixtures. Just light.
The room was comfortably furnished, large and spacious. It had seemed sinister in the darkness but now that it was lit it was just an ordinary room, larger than most hotel rooms, with a queen-sized bed, a sitting area with two armchairs, a desk doubling as a table. A quick glance into the room beyond a door showed a very nice bathroom. Stocked, she could see, with a tall stack of blindingly white towels, a bar of soap and a brand new ultrasound toothbrush.
Okay. A Hilton-level prison. She could do that.
A shower made her feel better, more human. She’d been on the road and on the run for almost 24 hours. There was a brand new white tee shirt on the bed. Huge. Several Xs of large. It came down almost to her knees and was more than sufficient as a nightgown.
She crawled into bed and stared at the ceiling,
