Agent MacDonald watched from the door, a look of awe in her eyes. “Her story is fascinating,” she whispered. “The meticulous way they broke her down and actually got her to care for him. She doesn’t even realize…”
Colin bit down hard, grinding his teeth. “Her story is tragic and unfortunate. Not fascinating.”
The woman blinked at him. “Well, I assure you from a psychological perspective it’s quite riveting. I’d love to know what you experienced in there.”
He wouldn’t be telling her a fucking thing about his time at the villa.
Angela returned and Colin stood, blocking her entrance to the office, looking at Agent MacDonald.
“You need to stop for lunch.”
She sighed. “Fine. But make it quick.”
Colin led Angela to the kitchen and opened the refrigerator, which had been fully stocked by the Birches. He pulled out the makings for sandwiches and got to work.
“You like turkey sandwiches?” he asked.
She gave a small nod. “I can make them.”
“No, I’ve got it. Have a seat.”
She slid into a chair and pulled knees up, resting her chin on them.
Colin sat across from her, placing the napkin with her lunch in front of her. He’d even cut it in half. But once again Angela only stared at it. He glanced toward the kitchen door and hall, but they were alone. An urge rose up in Colin, and he wanted to smack it down, but he found himself following it, with a hammering in his chest. He lifted Angela’s sandwich to her mouth and she opened her lips, taking in the offering and biting.
She would do anything he wanted, Colin realized. She was still his. He could demand her on her knees under the table right that moment and she’d obey. His cock sprung to life like an erotic kick and he wanted her—wanted to command her actions and feel the hum of satisfaction as he watched her obey.
Her eyes lifted to his, scorching him with their heat, and he wondered if she was thinking the same.
“Fuck.” He dropped the sandwich, glad the table was keeping his erection hidden. “Angela…I need you to feed yourself. Please. I can’t keep doing this. It’s not good for you.”
Or me.
She swallowed her bite and started to tremble. “I can’t.”
Colin felt frustrated. He didn’t know the right or wrong of it anymore.
“Look at me.” His voice was harsher than intended, but it did the trick. Her wide brown eyes looked up. “Pick up your sandwich and take a bite. Continue looking at me as you eat.”
With shaking hands, she did exactly as he’d ordered, and it was fucking beautiful. To reward her he reached down and ran his hand up the length of her soft forearm. “Very good. From now on, I want you to do this on your own. I will no longer feed you. I like to see your independence. Do you understand?”
She swallowed and nodded. His hand lingered against her skin, and he watched the rise and fall of her chest quicken.
“Ahem.”
He pulled his hand back and looked at Agent MacDonald in the doorway. Nobody usually got the drop on Colin, but he’d been too wrapped up in Angela to hear her approach. Now he inwardly cursed himself.
Agent MacDonald crossed her arms and moved closer. “I think this thing between the two of you needs to be addressed right away.”
Every muscle in Colin tightened and Angela dropped her sandwich.
“I was going to speak to you each individually, but it might be beneficial to discuss this with both of you at once.” She took a chair and pulled it to the end of the table. “What happened between the two of you in Spain?”
Straight for the balls. Neither of them replied.
“Did you have sex?”
“Agent—” Colin began, but Angela cut him off.
“No. He…wouldn’t.”
Agent MacDonald’s eyebrows went up. “Interesting. Then what? Kissing? Touching? Oral sex, maybe?”
“Where the fuck are you going with this, Agent?”
She tsked. “Language, please. There is an obvious link between the two of you, brought on by the trauma you shared. Angela treats you as a savior while you seem to feel a constant need to continue serving her, even while your job is technically over.”
“She is still under my protection while in Scotland.”
“Nobody knows where she is—”
“That we’re aware of.”
“Agent Douglas.” The woman’s condescending tone was grating. “You witnessed Angela in an openly sexual environment, and I can only assume the two of you had sexual contact of some sort, which further muddied the waters. You both did what you had to to pursue freedom, and I commend you, but it is time to move forward. Agent Douglas, the longer you linger in Angela’s life, the longer you’re prolonging her mental instability.”
Angela’s head lifted abruptly. “No.”
“Yes,” Agent MacDonald crooed to her. “It is difficult to heal while someone from your past is in the picture as a constant reminder of all you experienced. Every time you look at him you must see the enslaved girl you once were.”
“Every time I look at him I see the goodness in humanity!” Angela slapped a hand over her mouth, as if dumbfounded by her shout.