Forged in Steele (KGI #7)(53)

She was dumbfounded by his kindness. Or was it Tristan who’d arranged it? Somehow the thought of him giving her anything made her stomach knot.

“Did he send this to me?” she asked in a low voice.

Armand shook his head. “I picked them up for you. You haven’t been eating well. I thought the teas and the packaged snacks would make you feel more at ease.”

She gaped at him, shocked that he’d read her mind and realized her fear of being drugged.

“Thank you,” she murmured, at a loss as to what else to say.

Armand didn’t say a word. He merely turned around and walked away. A few feet from her door he turned back.

“You’ll have dinner with him on the terrace tonight. But tomorrow you’ll have breakfast in your room after you remove his bandages. After that, he won’t have further need of you until tomorrow night. Dinner will be served in the formal dining room. Dress for it. There’s something in your closet. And a box of shoes at the bottom. He wants you to wear the jewelry on your dresser. Make sure you follow his instructions. Don’t anger him, Maren. No matter how gentle he has been with you to this point, you need to remember that he is a man accustomed to getting what he wants, and he’s not a very nice person when he’s thwarted.”

She licked her lips nervously. Armand had gone shopping for her? He’d been in her closet? In her bedroom? And now he issued orders that made her spine stiffen moments after he did a kindness for her by bringing her the book, the vitamins, and the goodies.

“And take your vitamins,” Armand said sharply. “You do your baby no good by not eating properly and not taking your vitamins.”

She wanted to tell the ass**le that she was a doctor and she could take care of herself just fine, but she knew she hadn’t been, and as much as she hated to admit it, he was right. She did need to take better care of herself and her child.

“I won’t let him put anything in your food,” Armand said in a quiet voice she very nearly didn’t hear. “I oversee the preparation of all the food. Your baby is safe. I promise.”

With that he walked away, disappearing down the dark hallway. She looked at the bag in bemusement. She was surrounded by crazy. One minute Armand could actually seem . . . nice. And the next? He reminded her that he was Tristan’s hired heavy. His enforcer. Even Carlos, his errand hulk, had been left behind, expendable as Tristan had said. Only Armand had accompanied them away from Costa Rica to Paris and then to God only knew where.

Maren let herself into her room, baffled that she still had no clue where she was. She could be anywhere at all. Armand had blindfolded her when they’d left the apartment Tristan had rented in Paris. She’d remained blindfolded the entire trip. She’d lost count of the hours on the plane. It could have been one hour or ten. Without the ability to look at her watch, she had no idea of the passing time.

Once they’d arrived at their destination, Maren had been ushered inside the monstrous house and her blindfold had been removed. She’d never been off the grounds and was allowed outside only for very short intervals and only with Armand Velcroed to her arm.

The weather was moderate. Not too hot. Not too cool, although the nights were crisper, and for some reason, she got the idea they were in the mountains. Maybe it was the rich smell of pine and the crispness of the air.

She sagged onto her bed, too tired to contemplate taking a hot bath. A quick shower sounded far more enticing, so she could go to sleep that much faster. She dragged herself up and shuffled into the bathroom after making sure her door was securely locked. Though she doubted Tristan would get out of bed this quickly, she’d be a fool to ever assume anything when it came to him. The day she let her guard down would be the day he’d make her regret it.

She locked the bathroom as an extra measure of security and then turned the shower on, waiting for the steam to start rising. Once underneath the spray, she turned her face up into it and let it beat down over her body, absorbing the soothing warmth.

Her hands glided down her body to her still-slim waist. She had lost weight, and it was weight she couldn’t afford to lose. If she wasn’t more careful, she’d end up doing the very thing she feared Tristan would do. She’d harm her baby herself by not taking better care of herself and her child.

“Somehow we’ll get out of this,” she murmured as she smoothed her hands over the spot where her baby rested. “Your daddy will come for us. We have to believe that. He may not know about you yet, but when he finds out, I know he’ll protect us. He won’t turn his back on us, baby. We just have to find a way to get to him.”

She shook herself from the weight of her thoughts and quickly washed her hair. Once she stepped out and wrapped a towel around herself, she combed out her wet hair and then began to dress in the clothing Tristan had provided for her.

Judging by the quality and design of the clothing he’d arranged for her, he had plans that didn’t include a platonic relationship between them. Otherwise why would he have bothered with the sexy, revealing lingerie?

She lived each day in fear that he would take that step and cross the line he’d promised her he wouldn’t cross. She wasn’t a naïve fool. She knew he had no intention of keeping that promise. But he seemed determined to woo her instead of forcing his hand. The question was how long it would be before his patience ran out and he figured out that his seduction wasn’t working.