ran his gaze down her body, lingering around her hips, studying her every curve until her insides trembled. “The door stays open.”
“I can’t go to the bathroom with you out here and— I can’t do it.”
“We’re going to be here a week. Get over it.”
“A week?” She swallowed, but her mouth was so dry the act was painful. “And then what?” She tried another painful swallow. “Are you going to kill me?”
His brows came down in impatience. “I already said I wouldn’t hurt you.”
“Wh-what…” She stopped and took a quick breath, despising how weak she sounded. “What are you going to do with me?”
He studied her a moment. “Nothing, as long as you cooperate.”
“But—”
“No more talking.”
She had no choice. She had to believe he wouldn’t hurt her, as foolish or naive as that seemed. Backing up, she caught her bedraggled reflection in the mirror above the sink. Mud smeared her cheek. She looked at him again. He had smudges on his shirt and dirt in his hair. “Can’t you just bolt the window from the outside?”
He laughed. It was more a grunt. “Don’t worry. I’m not interested in any of your goods.”
He walked away as if the matter were closed, and she stood watching him, horrified that his demeaning remark stung. Anger simmered with the fear churning in her stomach. At least he’d moved away from her.
“By the way.” At the kitchen counter, he began unloading a paper sack. “If I so much as hear the door creak, I’ll take it off the hinges.”
“Why are you being so cruel?”
He looked sharply at her.
She cleared her throat, hoping to sound more assertive. “You already have me. It’s unnecessary to be so…unkind.”
Frowning, he shoved the sack aside. “Cruel?”
“Why do I need to be handcuffed and have the door open? Are you that afraid of me?”
His sudden bark of laughter startled her. “All right.” He dug into his jeans’ pocket, and her gaze helplessly drew to the worn denim straining across his fly.
She blinked and raised her gaze, unsettled by the jittery feeling in her tummy.
He produced a small key and started toward her. Her first impulse was to run; instead, she stepped outside and held up her bound hands, anxious to be free of the cuffs. He scanned the front of her muddy, wet shirt before inserting the key. “Do anything foolish again, and I’ll—” His gaze fastened on the inside of her wrists. “What the hell?”
He quickly unlocked the cuffs and picked up her right hand, turning it over to expose the ugly rash spreading across her skin. “These cuffs weren’t that tight.”
His eyes met hers and she was amazed to see concern softening his expression. He looked back down at her wrist, then picked up her other hand and inspected the reddening skin there.
“I’m allergic to some kinds of metal,” she said, alarmed at how close he was, how gently he soothed the surrounding skin with the pad of his thumb.
He lifted his gaze to hers, a mixture of suspicion and confusion darkening his eyes. “You should have told me.”
She shrugged, but hope bubbled inside her. He really didn’t intend to hurt her. He wouldn’t be concerned otherwise.
Abruptly, he dropped her hands and jerked his head toward the bathroom. “Go ahead. I’ll be in the kitchen.”
“You won’t—” She cut herself off. It was silly to ask him not to peek.
After giving her a long, hard look, he turned away.
Sydney hurried back inside the bathroom and almost closed the door out of habit. She stopped herself, convinced he’d have no qualms about doing exactly what he said he would. Unable to resist a final glance, she saw him busy unloading the grocery sack, facing away from her.
She’d started to unbutton her blouse when she realized that she needed a bath. Mud was caked and drying in some uncomfortable places. But with the door open? Not in this lifetime.
“Luke?” Saying his name felt odd. Too intimate.
“Yeah?”
“I need to take a bath.”
“Good idea.”
Anger coiled in her belly. She hated having to practically ask his permission to do something so personal, and then get an editorial. “I can’t do it with the door open.”
His sigh was loud, impatient. “Too bad.”
She could get around a bath by washing at the sink. Certainly not her preference but under the circumstances…
“And don’t think about skipping the bath. I don’t want you messing up the sheets the first night here.”
Tempted to give him an obscene hand sign she’d never given anyone in her life, she gritted her teeth. He didn’t have to know what she was doing in here. She’d use the tub, all right, by sitting on the edge…with her clothes on. She kicked aside the bath rug and leaned over to turn on the faucet. It wouldn’t budge. She sat, hoping for better leverage. Still no luck.
“It’s a little tricky.” Luke’s voice directly behind her made her jump. “Let me get it.”
She started to move out of the way, but he reached over her. His shoulder brushed her breast and she stiffened. Oblivious to the contact, he worked at trying to get the spigot to turn. Muscles corded and bunched on his arm. She could smell his heat, feel the powerful energy he radiated; to her absolute shame, she had an undeniable feminine reaction.
“Sweetheart, you’re going to have to move.”
She abruptly raised her gaze to his. An odd little gleam lurked there. Amusement, perhaps? She took a deep, steadying breath and nearly shoved him aside. “I was trying to do that before you crowded me.” Shoving, however, would require touching. She straightened her spine. “Excuse me, please.”
One side of his mouth lifted as he stepped back and motioned her around him. “That’s far enough,” he said, when she backed out of the door. “I’d hate to have to cuff you to the towel rack.”
That made her plant her feet, and she absently rubbed her reddened wrists. She didn’t want those cuffs on again. She’d cooperate all right, unless the perfect opportunity to escape presented itself. God, she hoped she wasn’t wrong, but she truly believed he wouldn’t harm her. This guy didn’t seem to be any ordinary thug. Her intuition told her otherwise.
He finally got the faucet turned, and water trickled slowly into the tub. It was clear, as though someone had run it recently. Luke turned the spigot some more, and the water pressure increased.
“It’s
