Firestorm (Sons of Templar MC #2)(32)

She nodded again. “Yes, Miss Abrams, I have been working here for five years.”

“Call me Amy, please,” I requested.

Five years? She didn’t seem comfortable with having a kidnapping victim in her presence. I didn’t know what to make of that. Mr. Clooney obviously wasn’t a first time offender, but Lucy was decidedly skittish.

“And you work here by choice?” I asked Lucy carefully, taking another bite.

She nodded vigorously. “Yes, of course. This job is very important to my family and I.”

I chewed for a moment. “I’m not here by choice. I’d very much like to be back with my family, or at least let them know I’m okay. Do you think you could help me?”

Lucy’s eyes widened and she shook her head frantically. “No, no. You don’t want to ask me that. You can get in trouble. I’ll forget you asked. You just do what Mr. Devon says and you will be okay.” She scurried out of the room before I had the chance to reply.

“Drat,” I muttered, throwing my fork down. I had succeeded in scaring the already terrified maid off. I only hoped she would be back to serve me again so I could work on gaining her trust.

“Time’s up, Red,” a familiar voice called before the door was opened.

I had just zipped up my midnight blue evening gown when I came face to face with Rafe. I resisted the shiver I felt with his gaze. It was not a good shiver. It was the kind that made me feel like I had spiders crawling up my skin.

“Well, Rafe, if you had come a couple of minutes earlier you would have caught me naked,” I remarked sweetly. “You see, the underwear provided with this outfit just wouldn’t work. I don’t do VPL.” I gave him a suggestive eyebrow raise and twirled to make my point. The skintight sheath hugged my every curve. Although I hadn’t abandoned breaking through to the housekeeper, I was going to explore every option I had to get out of this place. Unfortunately that included seducing Hannibal Lector over here.

“You might regret being such a cock tease once I’m allowed to play with you,” he hissed, pulling my body flush to his. I fought the bile in my throat, feeling his hard on pressing against my stomach.

“I’ll enjoy every second,” his mouth brushed my ear, “but I can’t say the same for you. I can’t even promise you’ll be able to walk after.”

I met his eyes, hoping he couldn’t see the fear in mine. “Maybe I like it rough,” I whispered hoarsely.

He paused a second then blinked, stepping back from me but keeping hold of my arm. “You’re late for dinner.”

His demeanor may have changed, but I could tell when I had got to a guy. Maybe my man whisperer skills might save my life after all.

I was taken to the same dining room as this morning, but this time the table was set with candles and wineglasses and Clooney wasn’t hiding behind his paper. He was standing right by the chair I had sat in hours ago, eyes on me. While he was inspecting me I returned the favor. He had changed his suit and was now wearing a black Burberry with a black shirt, no tie. Up close he was handsome, even in his mid-fifties. His skin was tan and he had bright blue eyes. He was clean shaven and could definitely be a certain movie star’s brother.

“Miss Abrams, you look stunning. I must say you get more beautiful every time I see you,” he declared.

I stopped in front of him. “Well, this is me in captivity—you should see me in the wild, Mr. Devon,” I replied icily, enjoying his slight surprise as I addressed him by name.

He recovered quickly. “I’m afraid since emotions were running high this morning I wasn’t able to properly introduce myself. I’m Clark Devon.” He grasped my hand and kissed it lightly. I didn’t snatch it away but glared at him.

“I’ll remember that for the police report. It’s Clark with a C, right?” I asked sarcastically.

Clark smiled. “I see we haven’t lost any of our fire. I’m happy you feel safe enough to be so brash, Miss Abrams. Others in your situation might refrain from such statements, fearing for their own wellbeing.” He pulled my chair out politely while he threatened me just as courteously.

“What can I say? I’m special.” I sat down without glancing back at him.

“Can I offer you some wine?” he asked, holding up a bottle. “It’s an excellent vintage.”

“I’ll pass. I’d like to keep my wits about me. You know, in case you’ve slipped some roofies in there. Kidnapping may not be enough—maybe you want to violate me too,” I replied acidly.

Clark shook his head as if he was dealing with a petulant child. “No matter how much you like to convince yourself otherwise, Miss Abrams, I mean you no harm. I’ve tried to make you comfortable as possible. I do wish you would at least eat something,” he said mildly.

I crossed my arms. “And I’ve told you no matter what you wrap it up in, no matter how many tiny meals of fancy food you serve me this is still a kidnapping. I’ll eat when I can do it of my own free will and when you’re in prison.”

Clark sighed. “As you wish. I do hope you will come to reconsider in time.”

The stress on the “in time” part had me feeling decidedly uncomfortable. I didn’t like the insinuation that I’d be here for an extended period. I needed to get an escape plan in place stat. I couldn’t rely on the fact the cavalry was going to come in and save me. I had to rely on myself.