Page 6 of Fire in My Blood

My brother waves and disappears into the elevator.

As soon as the doors slide shut, I practically run down the corridor and into the small utility room to get my cleaning cart.

I work as fast as I can without being sloppy. When I finally finish the offices upstairs, I extract the food container, a fork, and the water bottle from my purse, and tuck them away beneath some clean rags on my cleaning cart before heading to the elevator.

My hands are clammy, and my heart is speeding in my chest. What if the man is gone? They may have moved him since yesterday. I tap my foot while I wait for the elevator to reach the basement. It seems to take longer than usual.

As much as I realize it would probably be better for me if the prisoner is gone, I can’t help but hope he’s still there. His blue eyes haunted me all through the night, and throughout the day, moments from last night kept popping into my head. The sound of his gravelly voice, the grin that spread across his face when I asked if he wanted the soup, and the sight of his massive, sculpted upper body.

A heat like I haven’t felt since before my attack suffuses my body, and I reach up to tighten my ponytail. It’s been four years since I last cared about my appearance, but suddenly I’m all too aware of my baggy clothes and my pale face devoid of any makeup.

The elevator stops, and the doors slide open. As I step out into the corridor, I all but drape myself over the cart to stay on my feet. My hands are so slick with sweat I can barely steer the cart.

I make my way down the corridor to the interrogation room before I stop and take a few deep breaths to settle my nerves. I don’t know what’s the main reason for my anxiety—thefact that I’m committing a crime by visiting a prisoner or the fact that I’m attracted to a man for the first time in four years.

I get to work completing the last of my tasks for the day. It’s hard to focus, so it’s a good thing I’ve done this hundreds of times before and my body knows the drill.

When I’m done, I place the cart by the elevator and retrieve the hidden food container and water bottle. I stop in front of the door to the prisoner’s room and stare at it like it can somehow tell me what I’ll find when I open it. But it looks the same as it always does.

The lock clicks open when I swipe my card, and I open the door to reveal the standard bowl of soup on a tray on the floor. After clicking on the light, I step into the room and look to my left to where the man was sitting yesterday.

The man is still there, but he isn’t sitting this time. I feel myself pale when I see him. He’s standing with his back against the wall, staring at me with the same blank expression he favored last night.

I swallow hard. He looked like a big man sitting down, but now that he’s standing, I realize he’s huge. I’m no good at estimating someone’s height, but this man must be at least six foot six or six foot seven. And it’s not just his height that’s exceptional. Everything about him is massive. His chest is a hard expanse of muscle, his arms are like tree trunks, and his abs are so sharp and defined they could make a bodybuilder cry with envy.

I frown when I notice his clenched fists at his sides. Is he angry with me? He probably still thinks I’m here to make him talk. And why wouldn’t he? It’s not like he knows anything about me.

I lift my gaze to his face, but it’s completely blank. It’s impossible to tell what he’s thinking, but judging by his clenched fists he’s not as calm as he might otherwise appear.

***

Lucas

She’s back and standing before me in her shapeless clothes, but she’s more beautiful than I recall.

I find myself wanting to make a good impression, but based on how her face paled and her body tensed when she saw me standing there, I’ve somehow ended up doing the opposite.

My hands are balled into tight fists to try to maintain my calm and keep my neutral expression. What is it about this woman that has me so revved up? I can’t remember the last time someone affected me like this. I’m trained to be calm and collected no matter what happens. But now I’m struggling to control my emotions.

I don’t want to be the first one to speak. This woman might not be part of the team who captured me and keeps pestering me with questions, but I don’t know that for a fact. Letting her make the first move is the sensible thing to do.

“I’ve brought you some food and water.” The words tumble from her lips so fast they’re almost indecipherable.

My gaze automatically drops to her hands, and I take in her white-knuckled grip on the water bottle and plastic container. Is she really here to feed me, or is this another tactic to get me to talk?

My gaze slowly travels back up her body to her eyes. She’s tiny. Not particularly tiny for a human female but compared to me she is. If she stood directly in front of me, her mouth would line up perfectly with my nipples. My cock twitches, andI inwardly curse. I have to get a grip before this tiny human has me on my knees, panting for her.

“What do you expect in return?” Attack is usually the best defense, so I go with that.

Her face falls. “I… I don’t expect anything. Everyone needs water. I can’t stand by and let them torment you down here.” She stops, looking a bit flustered as if she just realized she revealed more than she should. Her reaction doesn’t look practiced.

“So, they don’t know what you’re doing? Do they even know you’re here?” I study her face to see her reaction. And I see it. Her eyes widen in fear, and she snaps her head around to look at the door like she expects someone to come through it any second and catch her doing something she isn’t supposed to do.

Interesting.

But as much as I’d like to test her to decide if she’s truly not involved, it’s not the best strategy. If I let her think too hard about being here without permission, she might change her mind about helping me and leave.

I give her a warm smile. “So, what have you brought me then?”