Page 59 of The Stolen Princess
He raised his eyebrows at her. “Do you want it or not?”
“I want it,” she said, crawling off the side of the cot. Even though she’d had lunch back in the village, Myka was so hungry she felt like her stomach had started eating its own inner lining.
She sat down at the table, focusing on the bowl in front of her. It smelled delicious—but really, it was mostly broth with a slab of meat in it. Apparently, the Council operatives didn’t eat in style.
“Where have you been?” she asked between sips. She hated how she sounded like some overly possessive housewife, accusing her husband of cheating on her.
Drake gave her a crooked smile. “Miss me?”
She lifted her chin. “I barely noticed you were gone.”
He laughed as he pulled his shirt off over his head. Myka yanked her eyes back to her bowl of soup. The last thing she wanted was for Drake Vestry to think she was checking him out. Because she wasn’t. Myka had boundaries, and gawking at her kidnapper crossed the line. It was like he wanted her to look at him. A man doesn’t walk around shirtless unless he is extremely satisfied with his body. And Drake seemed to be. In the short time Myka had known him, she had seen him shirtless more times than she could count.
Three.
She had seen him shirtless three times.
So she could count that, but she didn’t want to.
She kept her focus on her bowl, not giving him the satisfaction. That was the best way to deflate an arrogant person. Don’t give them the attention they so obviously desired.
“I’m going to change,” he said behind her, and the sound of the curtain rings scraping on the bar pulled her eyes to the corner of the room in time to see his undergarments drop to the floor behind the curtain.
This is awkward.
She looked around and noticed Drake’s bag sitting on the floor at the edge of the curtain. His gun and his knife were probably in that bag, unless he somehow still had them strapped to his naked body. Myka highly doubted that. If she could get either weapon, she might be able to escape, but she would have to act fast. And by acting fast, she meant tip-toeing slowly across the room to where his bag was. She stilled her breath and made each footstep as quiet as possible. Thank goodness the room wasn’t big. She had only two more feet to go.
“Are you trying to sneak a peek?” Drake asked with a cocky smile as he popped his head out from behind the curtain.
Myka jumped twenty feet in the air. She eyed the bag and her pink hair tie lying next to it. “No! I was just grabbing my hair tie.” She went to reach for it, but Drake’s hand shot out from the side of the curtain, taking it before she could.
“You can’t have it,” he said as he fell back behind the drape again.
Myka furrowed her brows, anchoring both hands on her hips. “Why not? You don’t need it anymore, and you’re ruining it by getting it dirty, but that’s what you do best, Drake Vestry. You ruin things!”
Like my life!
He popped his head out from the curtain again, sporting a gloating smile. “It’s mine. I can do whatever I want with it.” Then he reached for his bag and pulled it back behind the curtain with him.
Myka tightened her jaw as she breathed through her nose. She walked back to the table to finish eating.
“I’m tired,” he said a minute later, opening the curtain. Myka took that as code forI’m all dressed.
She turned her gaze over her shoulder. Drake wore a fresh pair of black pants and a clean black t-shirt.
More black to match his dark persona.
Except he looked amazing in black.
“It’s time for bed now,” he said, gesturing to the cot she’d already napped on.
She turned back around to her food. “Well, I’m not tired. I’ve been sleeping all afternoon.”
“Too bad.” He reached out and tilted her chair back onto two legs, making Myka feel like she was about to fall; then he pushed it back level, sending her flying forward to her feet. He took the rope out of his bag and looped it around her body.
“What are you doing?” she asked as she tried swatting his hands away. He paused and gave her the look. It was his don’t mess with me look—the one where he dipped his chin down and raised his eyebrows so she could better see his gaze. Myka was getting used to that look. He seemed to give it to her a lot. She moved her hands away so that he could continue. “I don’t understand why I have to have the rope on. Can’t you lock me in?”
He pulled the rope tight until there was only about a foot and half of the rope between them before he tied the remainder around his own waist. “This way, I won’t have to worry about what you’re doing in the middle of the night.”
