way she had to be with him virtually round-the-clock. Even though they weren’t really intimate, it was hard not to think of the word. Intimate, at least in part, meant to be physically close. And that they were.
Oh, yes, they were.
She could feel the heat coming off his big body. And the outer side of her upper arm touched his, just barely, all the time. And then there was the scent of him, that scent of cedar and spice and…maleness. That scent that she did find so dangerously attractive.
He whispered, out of the side of his mouth, “You’re not eating your popcorn.” She could have sworn she heard humor in his voice.
Humor.
And intimacy.
She looked at him sharply. He was staring at the screen.
And wasn’t that the main reason she’d dragged him here? To give him something else to stare at but her.
She hadn’t thought it through, though. Hadn’t considered that they’d be sitting so close their bodies brushed, that she’d have the bad judgment to make a big deal of ordering him to hold the popcorn for her.
She whispered, “Um, are you sure you don’t want any popcorn?”
“Yes. I’m sure.”
“Then I guess I’ll just hold it myself.”
He leaned a fraction nearer, heat and size and maleness pressing in. “Are you certain? I am willing to serve.” His voice was low and soft and…silky.
Elli’s mouth went bone-dry. She gulped. “I…yeah. I’m certain.”
He handed her the tub, the pads of his big fingers brushing hers. A bullet of heat went shooting through her, so thrilling it was painful—from where his fingers grazed hers, straight up her arm—and right to her chest, which contracted sharply, so that she almost gasped.
They were staring at each other. The Dolby sound swelled around them and images flashed on the big screen, reflecting at them, so that Hauk’s chiseled profile gleamed alabaster in the darkness. His hair shone, not gold, not platinum, but some rare color in between.
He was the one who looked away, back at the screen. And this time she felt no triumph that he did. This time, she felt it as a tearing sensation, that he ripped something, left tattered raw edges, when he looked away.
She stared at him for several bewildered seconds, thinking what she shouldn’t be thinking: that he was so very wonderfully male. That it would be a lovely, thrilling thing to have his big hands on her, to press her mouth to his…
When they came out of the movie, it was a little after three. Hauk pushed the glass door open for her and she walked out, across the covered ticket booth area and into the bright sunlight of a beautiful afternoon. Overhead, the sky was clear and powder-blue.
And she wasn’t ready—not yet—to go back to her place and be cooped up in there with Hauk. She headed for Land Park.
Hauk saw they weren’t going where he’d assumed they’d be going. “Where are we going now?”
“To Land Park.”
“You wish to see your mother again?”
“No. Not to my mother’s house. Just into the park. I want to walk by the duck pond.” She added, turning to give him a sarcastic smile, “Is that all right with you?”
Their gazes collided. A shimmer of heat went through her. “Return to your apartment,” he said softly. “Pack your belongings. I’ll take you to the plane.”
Elli yanked her gaze back to the street in front of her. She had to be careful. She could get them in an accident. “No. Not yet.”
“This is foolish.”
And it was. She knew it. Something more than a James Bond flick had happened in the darkened movie theater. They’d emerged into the sunshine with everything changed between them—or if not changed, at least mutually acknowledged.
Looking back, it seemed that maybe there had been attraction between them almost from the very first. She’d denied it. That hadn’t been difficult. What self-respecting woman would ever willingly admit that her kidnapper made her heart go pitter-pat? Not Elli.
But time had done it, made her see it. Time and the forced closeness that they shared. She was coming to know him a little, coming to understand that though she despised the job he was doing, she didn’t—she couldn’t—despise the man himself. She knew there was goodness in him. That honor and loyalty meant more to him than life. How could she help but admire that? How could she help but let down her guard with him, at least a little?
Now it seemed terribly dangerous to imagine the night to come, should she continue to insist on remaining in Sacramento until the last possible moment her agreement with her father allowed.
She should do what Hauk kept trying to get her to do. Pack. Get on that plane.
And yet, she held back. Beyond this impossible attraction to the man her father had sent to kidnap her, she had other issues here.
The more she thought about this whole situation, the more suspicious she became of her father’s motives. What if her mother was right? Could she be walking blind into some ugly palace plot?
Her doubts ate at her. True, she was going. Hauk would make certain of that. But she saw no reason to rush headlong into the jaws of a possible trap.
Who knew what might happen in the next eighteen hours or so? It didn’t seem particularly likely, but some new and valuable piece of information just might come to light. Maybe everything would become clear, after all.
Right, whispered a knowing voice in the back of her mind. Everything might become clear. Oh, certainly. Anything might happen….
Now, that did ring true. Anything might happen, all right—between her and Hauk.
Elli tossed her head. “I don’t care. I don’t want to go yet. I’m not sure I want to go at all.”
She waited for the man beside her to tell her that she had no choice. She’d vowed to go and she would go.
He said nothing.
Land Park boasted its own outdoor amphitheater across from a children’s amusement area called Fairy-tale Town and not far from the zoo. Below the amphitheater, sparkling in the afternoon sun, lay the duck pond.
Elli parked the car above the amphitheater, to the side a little. A steep, tree-shadowed, grass-covered hill swept down to the pond. They got out and Elli took off at a run down the grassy slope. Maybe she’d leave him behind.
Yeah, right.
Elli kept running anyway, not looking back, almost tumbling head-over-heels once or twice, but somehow managing to keep her feet.
Hauk followed close behind. She could feel him there. Never once did he stumble. And she knew he wasn’t running full-out, that he effortlessly paced himself to keep a few yards back.
She
