His jaw locked and he glanced away. “I know.”
“You’re my boss and it wouldn’t be right.”
He just nodded. “That’s what I came here to tell you.” He sighed. “If you still want to stay, I give you my word it won’t happen again.”
She believed him. If a man like Josh Cain gave you his word, he kept it. Sex with him would never happen again.
That was what she wanted, wasn’t it? She didn’t want to be the kind of woman the sheriff and the fire chief thought she was. Add to that she didn’t believe in strictly physical relationships—friends with benefits—and she knew that was all this was.
On the other hand, she was a grown woman raising a child. She was a woman with needs like any other woman. She could do whatever she wanted. And she wanted more of Joshua Cain.
So why the hell not?
She heard the words tumbling out of her mouth even before they completely registered in her brain. “On second thought, we’re both adults. Why not enjoy ourselves for as long as the attraction lasts? Eventually I’ll be leaving, moving somewhere Ivy and I can make a new life. In the meantime, as long as I’m what you want and you’re what I want . . .”
She let the words trail off. The next instant, she was pressed against the wall, with Josh’s mouth crushing down over hers. The kiss went on until her head spun and her knees went weak.
Finally he let her go. “You sure about this?”
“If you’re sure I’m what you want.”
“Oh, you’re what I want. I think we’ve established we’re both currently in lust.”
She nodded. “Yes, I suppose that explains it. But it won’t be easy, not with a child in the house.”
The corner of his mouth kicked up. “Don’t worry, honey, we’ll figure it out.”
Tory looked into his hard, handsome face and felt a rush of longing that should have been a warning.
Instead she just said, “Okay.”
*
Tory checked on Ivy. The little girl was curled on her side clutching Pansy, deeply asleep. Leaning over, Tory kissed her forehead, then headed down the hall to her bedroom. Until tonight, the bed had never looked empty and uninviting.
She thought about what had happened between her and Josh. She had known by the look in those amazing blue eyes that he’d wanted her again, but he had just kissed her and said good night.
Part of her was grateful. He was giving her time, giving them both a chance to rethink the situation. She wondered if, in the cold light of day, she would regret what she had done, wondered how Josh would feel.
But Tory’s decision was made. Just this once, she was taking something for herself. No matter how brief the affair, she wanted this time with Josh.
She looked at the cheap plastic phone he had bought her. She desperately needed to talk to Lisa. She had never needed her friend’s advice more. But it was late and tomorrow was a workday.
Pulling on an oversize T-shirt, she set the disposable on the nightstand in her bedroom and slid beneath the covers. First thing in the morning, she would call her best friend.
Chapter Fourteen
Another endless day had passed. It was late, the moon spearing light between the branches of the pine trees in the dense forest around the cabin. But Lisa couldn’t sleep. It was cold and musty in the basement, the scratchy wool blanket tossed over the mattress not nearly warm enough.
She huddled, shaking, her teeth chattering, cursing the monster who had brought her here. She’d thought that by now he would have returned. He would be back, she was sure—it was only a matter of time.
Time, usually something she’d never had enough of, dragged endlessly here. But during those endless hours, she’d had time to think, time to come up with a plan.
Instead of dreading their next encounter, Lisa found herself praying for Damon’s return, praying for the chance to put her plan into motion. She was ready, more than ready.
She glanced at the spot on the rough cement wall, the circle she had scratched into the cement with her fingernails. They were broken now, two of them bloody, but the sharp edge she had marked was easy to find.
Where are you? she thought. I’m waiting for you, Damon.
She had accepted the fact that sooner or later Damon was going to kill her. After what he had done, he couldn’t let her live. He would kill her if she let him.
She wasn’t going to give him the chance.
A distant sound reached her, drawing her attention to the window. As if her prayers had been answered, she heard the whine of an engine coming up the dirt road, the crunch of gravel as a car pulled up in front of the cabin.
Her pulse began racing as the engine went off and the car door opened. She clamped down on the urge to scream for help. The windows were too high for her to see out, but she knew in every cell of her body it was Damon.
She listened to the thump of heavy footfalls crossing the screened-in porch, then the lock turning, the door opening and closing. He was here. He had come to satisfy his sick desires. She couldn’t let herself think what he planned to do, couldn’t let herself remember the last time.
It wasn’t going to happen again.
She was going to escape.
Overhead she could hear him walking around the cabin. He’d be coming down any minute now. Moving awkwardly, as fast as her bound ankles would allow, she made her way over to the wall. Taking a breath, she pressed her forearm on the jagged piece of cement and jerked her arm down, slicing long and deep enough to make sure there’d be plenty of blood.
Hissing against the pain, she made her way clumsily back to the mattress and lay down, smearing the blood running down her forearm over the mattress beneath where she sat and between her legs.
The basement door opened. In the moonlight, she could barely make out Damon’s evil, handsome face as he descended the stairs.
“Hello, sweetheart,” he said. “Did you miss me?”
She swallowed the bile that rose in her throat. “I didn’t miss you, Damon. I loathe the sight of you.”
“You loathe me? I would think after the last time, you would know better than to speak to me that way. I doubt you’ve forgotten the punishment I meted out.”
Her ribs still ached; one of her eyes was swollen shut. She fought not to whimper.
“Loathe me all you want,” he said as he descended the stairs, “I’m still going to fuck you.” He paused to flip the light switch, illuminating the single stark bulb in the ceiling overhead. “We’ll enjoy ourselves; then in the morning, you’re going to call your office. You’re going to tell them you have the flu and you’ll be out the rest of the week.”
Oh, God. She should have known he would have it all figured out.
He took another step and paused. “What is that on the mattress?”
She gave him a disgusted smile. “It’s blood, Damon. I started my period.”
He recoiled as if she had slapped him, just as she had known he would.
“Well, your timing is just perfect, isn’t it? I’m not about to touch you in your filthy condition. You need a shower. There are supplies in the bathroom under the sink. Once you’re clean, you can use your mouth on me.”
Her lip curled, making her hatred clear. “I guess you thought of everything.”
“Get up.” Careful not to get too close, he waited for her to stand and make her way toward him. Since it was impossible for her to climb the stairs with her ankles bound, he pulled out a vicious-looking folding knife and cut through the plastic tie.
It was all she could do not to attack him, try to pry the knife from his hands and stab it into his malevolent heart. Instead, she waited, stuck to her plan.
Careful to keep her injured arm out of sight, she climbed the wooden stairs in front of him. Damon stayed a few feet behind.