Read Collateral Damage for Free Online
Authors: Bianca Sommerland
numbers, of cleanliness, of becoming completely numb. I will still be . . . ." He gently turned me to face him and tapped my temple with a finger. "Right here."
No. I'd thought the word, I was sure I had, but he smiled like he'd heard it.
"I did." He kissed my forehead and then whispered in my ear. "And there are thirty steps, in case you wondered."
My lips parted. I shook my head. Cold flushed my veins, and my fingers twitched. I wanted to slap him. I didn't question how he could read my mind. What did it matter? He could. And he had.
His hand drifted up to my cheek. "Nicole—"
" Don't ." I practically panted with the effort not to lash out at him for this final violation. Better that he rape my body than my mind. "Just bring me to my room."
"Fine." His jaw ticked, and he held out his arm towards the hall. "After you."
I hurried down the last five steps and pressed my hands over my ears as a long wail spilled from behind one of the many closed doors. I made it to my room and pressed my forehead against the door.
Vince sighed as he opened the door. He waited until I'd settled on the bed before striding forward and dropping something on my lap. "Here. Alrik won't need it tonight, but you might."
The mp3 player. I whispered thanks and curled up on the bed.
Before I could plug my ears, Vince spoke. "And, Nicole . . . . "
I pressed my eyes shut. "Yes?"
"Stay."
Chapter Five
At precisely 6:30 a.m. Vince woke me. I knew the time because the digital screen of the mp3 player displayed it. He dropped several binders on the table beside a tray with a stainless steel coffee pot and two mugs.
"I can't bring you upstairs for breakfast . . . . Tell me what you want if you're hungry, and I'll get it."
I sat up and rubbed the sleep from my eyes.
"I trust you don't object to me bringing you coffee?"
"That's fine." I padded to the table, shaking my head to clear it, wondering how I'd managed to sleep so well. Still needed a kick-start of caffeine, but I felt well rested.
Ready to start the day. And deal with whatever Vince had planned. "Is Alrik up already?"
"Not yet." He filled a mug with coffee and leaned over it, inhaling and licking his lips. "Come. This coffee is freshly ground—a French roast."
My favorite. Naturally. I considered unscrewing the top of the pot and pouring the contents over his head. But a smart woman doesn't waste good coffee and invite death in the process.
After filling my cup, I brought it to the bed and stood with my hip braced against the headboard to drink it. "Not bad. Little weak though."
Vince's brow arched. He glanced at the untouched cream and sugar. "Don't you usually take—"
"Mmm." I smirked behind my cup and took a bitter sip. "I take it black when I'm fucked up."
Small creases formed on his forehead and around his dark eyes. "Why are you
'fucked up'?"
Seriously? This guy was too much. "I don't know—captivity does that to me."
"You've been treated well."
My brow shot up. "Have I? Well, I guess I'm being over sensitive. I kinda take basic liberties for granted. What can you do?"
He stood and set down his cup. "I don't appreciate sarcasm."
I took another sip and smiled. Guess he wasn't as infallible as he pretended to be.
"Well, I don't appreciate being kidnapped and raped. But we don't always get what we want."
"No, I suppose we don't." He traced the open collar of his black, silk shirt, revealing just the top of a very hard, very well-defined chest. Muscles curved in smooth slopes jumped, as though my gaze was a physical touch. He chuckled, and I looked up to see him watching me. "You want to hate me."
"I do hate you." I shrugged at his doubtful expression. "You're just easy on the eyes. Which I'm sure you know."
"Really." Without a twitch of warning, he closed the distance between us and took my cup. "Shall I prove you wrong?"
I skirted away from him, ducking and skidding from the bed. I might have been prepared to let him do what he would last night, but this morning
No. I'd thought the word, I was sure I had, but he smiled like he'd heard it.
"I did." He kissed my forehead and then whispered in my ear. "And there are thirty steps, in case you wondered."
My lips parted. I shook my head. Cold flushed my veins, and my fingers twitched. I wanted to slap him. I didn't question how he could read my mind. What did it matter? He could. And he had.
His hand drifted up to my cheek. "Nicole—"
" Don't ." I practically panted with the effort not to lash out at him for this final violation. Better that he rape my body than my mind. "Just bring me to my room."
"Fine." His jaw ticked, and he held out his arm towards the hall. "After you."
I hurried down the last five steps and pressed my hands over my ears as a long wail spilled from behind one of the many closed doors. I made it to my room and pressed my forehead against the door.
Vince sighed as he opened the door. He waited until I'd settled on the bed before striding forward and dropping something on my lap. "Here. Alrik won't need it tonight, but you might."
The mp3 player. I whispered thanks and curled up on the bed.
Before I could plug my ears, Vince spoke. "And, Nicole . . . . "
I pressed my eyes shut. "Yes?"
"Stay."
Chapter Five
At precisely 6:30 a.m. Vince woke me. I knew the time because the digital screen of the mp3 player displayed it. He dropped several binders on the table beside a tray with a stainless steel coffee pot and two mugs.
"I can't bring you upstairs for breakfast . . . . Tell me what you want if you're hungry, and I'll get it."
I sat up and rubbed the sleep from my eyes.
"I trust you don't object to me bringing you coffee?"
"That's fine." I padded to the table, shaking my head to clear it, wondering how I'd managed to sleep so well. Still needed a kick-start of caffeine, but I felt well rested.
Ready to start the day. And deal with whatever Vince had planned. "Is Alrik up already?"
"Not yet." He filled a mug with coffee and leaned over it, inhaling and licking his lips. "Come. This coffee is freshly ground—a French roast."
My favorite. Naturally. I considered unscrewing the top of the pot and pouring the contents over his head. But a smart woman doesn't waste good coffee and invite death in the process.
After filling my cup, I brought it to the bed and stood with my hip braced against the headboard to drink it. "Not bad. Little weak though."
Vince's brow arched. He glanced at the untouched cream and sugar. "Don't you usually take—"
"Mmm." I smirked behind my cup and took a bitter sip. "I take it black when I'm fucked up."
Small creases formed on his forehead and around his dark eyes. "Why are you
'fucked up'?"
Seriously? This guy was too much. "I don't know—captivity does that to me."
"You've been treated well."
My brow shot up. "Have I? Well, I guess I'm being over sensitive. I kinda take basic liberties for granted. What can you do?"
He stood and set down his cup. "I don't appreciate sarcasm."
I took another sip and smiled. Guess he wasn't as infallible as he pretended to be.
"Well, I don't appreciate being kidnapped and raped. But we don't always get what we want."
"No, I suppose we don't." He traced the open collar of his black, silk shirt, revealing just the top of a very hard, very well-defined chest. Muscles curved in smooth slopes jumped, as though my gaze was a physical touch. He chuckled, and I looked up to see him watching me. "You want to hate me."
"I do hate you." I shrugged at his doubtful expression. "You're just easy on the eyes. Which I'm sure you know."
"Really." Without a twitch of warning, he closed the distance between us and took my cup. "Shall I prove you wrong?"
I skirted away from him, ducking and skidding from the bed. I might have been prepared to let him do what he would last night, but this morning
Similar Books
Seven Deadly Sins: My Pursuit of Lance Armstrong
David Walsh
The Sorceress of Karres
Eric Flint, Dave Freer
The Disciple
Steven Dunne
Big Strong Bear
Terry Bolryder
Hangmans Holiday
Dorothy L. Sayers
The Marvellous Boy
Peter Corris
The Lost Wife
Alyson Richman
The Brazen Head
John Cowper Powys
Chinese Orange Mystery
Ellery Queen
