Sharp pinpricks grounded her in the moment with him. This wasn’t a dream. Nothing had ever been more real. The admission weakened her knees. She’d failed. Failed to escape. Failed Erwan.
When her body sagged, he gripped her hips to hold her up.
“I can’t let you go home,” he said. “It’s not safe.”
Exhausted from her outburst, she didn’t have enough energy left to argue when he picked her up and carried her to the table. Instead of lowering her into a chair, he sat down and pulled her into his lap. She tried to wiggle free when he cradled her head against his chest, but he only pressed her closer.
The act was soothing, strange coming from her kidnapper. The strong, steady rhythm of his heartbeat drummed against her ear. Slowly, her erratic breathing evened out. One by one, her muscles relaxed.
“What’s wrong with me?” she whispered more to herself than him. It wasn’t like her to freak out like this.
He gripped her chin and tilted her head for their eyes to meet. “You’re having a delayed reaction to the shock. It’s normal, nothing to worry about.”
“Normal?” Nothing about this was normal.
“The tranquilizer works on your nervous system.” He spoke to her softly, patiently, as if to a child. “It affects your mind as well as your body. This afternoon when you woke up, you were placid and lethargic, but now that the drug has worked itself out of your system and your mind is more acute again, you’re having a delayed reaction to the events of the last few hours. It’s not uncommon to have a breakdown.”
His tenderness only angered her more. He’d abducted her. He had no right to be kind. “With or without drugs, I’d say I’m allowed a breakdown under the circumstances.”
A smile flirted with his lips. “Of course.”
She stiffened. “It’s not funny.”
“I never said it was.”
“Let me go. Please.” She pushed away. “I won’t tell anyone. I swear.” She continued in a rushed tone. “We can just forget any of this happened.”
“It’s not safe for you to go home.” He stroked a hand over her hair. “Do you understand what I’m saying?”
She didn’t know who she was supposed to be running from any longer. The police, Joss, or her father? She slapped his hand away. “Why isn’t it safe?”
“The attack on us yesterday…” He paused, searching her eyes. “I believe it was an attempt to kidnap you.”
“But you beat them to it, didn’t you?”
He brushed his knuckles over her cheek. “I’m going to get you out of this, but you have to tell me everything you know. Talk to me about the fires.”
The sudden gentleness was nothing but a ploy to make her talk. She tried to stand, but he tightened his hold.
“I don’t know who started the fires,” she said.
“Think, Cle. Who would do such a thing?”
“I don’t know.”
“Don’t you? I’ve just learned there’s a powerful pyromancist in town,” he said. “Does the name Lupien ring a bell?”
“No,” she said, her mouth going dry.
“It looks like he’s chasing a local firestarter. He’s also after you. Now why would that be?”
The blood drained from her head, leaving her dizzy. “I don’t know.”
“Is it because he knows what I’m suspecting? That Erwan has the answer to the identity of our firestarter, and that you’re the key to finding Erwan?”
“This is crazy.”
“I’ll never ask you to betray your family, but you better pray Erwan comes for you soon.”
She shoved his arms away and jumped from his lap. “Are you threatening me?”
“No.” He straightened. “If it’ll make this easier for you, think about it like I’m keeping you for your own good. I can’t let you run away, because I won’t let anyone get to you.”
He looked so much like he did that day in the woods when he attacked Iwig she almost believed him, but if there was one thing she’d learned today, it was that she’d never truly known Joss. He was unreadable, his motivations untrustworthy and unclear, and the man was much more sinister than the boy she’d given her heart to.
“Where were we?” he said, walking to where she’d dropped the knife and picking it up from the floor as if she’d never threatened him.
She sank into the chair, watching helplessly as he washed the knife and continued to carve the fish. When he was done, he tossed lettuce in olive oil and balsamic vinegar and placed it on the table with a bottle of chilled Sauvignon Blanc.
He dished up a hearty portion, poured the wine, and pushed the plate and glass toward her. “The tranquilizer would’ve suppressed your appetite, but you can’t go twelve hours without a meal. Try it.” He motioned at the food. “The tuna will be light on your digestive system and you need the protein.”
She forked a piece of lettuce and said with a bite in her tone, “Do I have to stay at the table until I’ve eaten everything?”
His smile was patient. “Have some wine. It’ll help you relax.”
In a spiteful act, she grabbed the glass and downed the wine in one go.
“I meant sipping it,” he said with a chuckle, “but there’s more where that came from.”
When he lifted the bottle to refill her glass, she shook her head. Getting tipsy wasn’t a good idea. She needed her wits about her.
Of course he made her sit at the table until she’d eaten all her food. By the time her plate was empty, she was buzzing from the wine. When Joss cleared the table, an offer to help was on the tip of her tongue, but then she frowned at the absurdity. She was a hostage, not a dinner guest. In any event, he didn’t ask for help, and as she watched him tidy the kitchen, lethargy settled over her again. It was the low after the adrenalin high from earlier.
She studied him where he stood at the sink, washing dishes. Even with his back turned to her he exuded alertness. No doubt he was aware of
