Page 18 of His Gift
"What are you doing here?"
"Brought you breakfast."
"I mean, what are you doinghere?"
"I brought you home." The puzzled face staring at me would be comical if it didn't belong to my kidnapper.
"Yes.My home. What are you doing here?"
"You asked me to bring you back home, and I made you happy." He shrugs and goes about his business, closing the door and dropping a paper bag on the table, as if the conversation is too absurd to take part in it any longer.
"You drugged me again. I thought that was to stop me from finding out where you live. After all, I just know your name and your job. Both of which might have been lies."
He sighs and sits his ass on the edge of the table.
"One more time: I don't lie. And yes. That's why I drugged you. I meant to leave you here and disappear. Take my money and make myself scarce before you could report me to the cops. To show you how disappointed Iwas. But when we arrived here, I realized you had enough of that shit. For a lifetime. So… I'm here to stay."
"And if I don't want you to stay?"
"You have your phone. Call the cops."
"As if you couldn't stop me in two steps."
Conrad stands up and comes closer, towering over me with a deep frown stamped on his face. "Do you really think I'd go through the trouble of bringing you home, charging your phone, and putting it on your nightstand, only to do what? Reverse it all and take you back to my house? And even then, I'd do it while you were unconscious. I'd save myself the hassle."
This time I'm the one with the frown. It makes sense. In a roundabout way, as usual with him.
"So you'd let me call the cops?"
"I wouldn't stay to meet them, but yes, that was implied when I brought you home."
"Why?"
"Harper, we're back at the start of the conversation. And your coffee is getting cold. So, eat your breakfast while you decide if you want to make that phone call."
He steps back, sits at the table, and gestures for me to join him. Fine. I'm hungry. And coffee will clear my head. I can't remember the last time I had one. Well, just before the asshole snatched me.
I stand, but my legs betray me, and I stumble back down.
"Let me help." Conrad lifts me up, sits me on his lap, and goes in for a quick kiss on my head.
"I wouldn't need your help if you stopped drugging me. That alone should warrant a call to the cops. But I want answers before I decide."
"As long as you eat between questions, I'm fine with it."
He opens the bag and takes out a muffin and a tall macchiato. My favorite breakfast—from the place where he first spotted me, I guess. Then he breaks a piece of muffin and brings it to my mouth.
"Still feeding me?"
"Always." I sigh. Fine. It's not top priority right now. I open my mouth and moan in appreciation when the flavor hits my taste buds. I was hungry.
"Why are you wearing a suit?" He snorts.
"I'm a man of habit. I wear a suit in the city. So, after showering and eating at my place, this is what I put on before getting your breakfast." He is a man of habit. And I'm a chaotic disaster.
"Why are you here?"
"Same reason. I didn't change my mind. I just had a weak moment where I gave in to your stubbornness."
