Taken With The Enemy (17 page)

"Brenna,” I heard my captor say.

I opened my eyes to find him standing over me, a mug in his hands.

"Oh, there's coffee?” I asked.

"This is for you."

"You are wonderful.” I began the agonizing task of unfurling my stiff legs from the chair I'd been sleeping in. Someone, probably him, had put a blanket over me during my nap. Once I was unfurled, I took the steaming cup from his hands and sipped the much needed caffeine.

"You even added cream and sugar just how I like. How did you know?

"You're sweet and creamy, so I assumed that's how you'd prefer your coffee."

I giggled like a little school girl. “Thanks. But I wish you wouldn't have let me fall asleep."

"You needed to rest."

I looked over to the bed next to me. “And if the patient had taken a turn for the worse?"

"I was around. I would've woken you up."

Rolling my shoulders, I tried to get all the kinks out. “You would've made a great nurse. Are there anymore talents I should know about?"

He maneuvered himself behind my chair. “I'm very good at massages."

I closed my eyes and let my head drop forward as he began kneading the sore and tired muscles in my neck. Sighing in contentment, my body relaxed under his expert ministrations, so much so, I could almost fall asleep again.

"You have wonderful fingers,” I murmured.

"I'm glad you enjoy them so much."

Many wicked thoughts came to my mind.

Shit. I needed to think of something else. Like my patient.

I stood to my feet. “Just out of curiosity, what happened to your last doctor? The one before me?"

"He had to leave."

"Am I allowed to know why? Or is that a big secret as well.” I asked, checking the monitors.

"He was having a problem maintaining his medications."

"Like he couldn't get them shipped here?"

"No, like he was ingesting too many."

I cringed. “Yikes."

The hallway phone rang.

"That's my cue,” he said. “I have to go for a little bit, but I'll be in the building. If you need anything, or he wakes up, give us a call."

"Oh, okay."

He crossed the room and placed a gentle kiss on my head. “I'll come back as soon as I can."

I watched him leave, in a way already missing his reassuring presence. The front door opened and closed, but was missing the usual jingle and click.

Ha. He didn't lock me in.

Donning my stethoscope, I leaned over the wounded man and checked his heart and lungs. Thankfully, everything sounded clear. I sighed in relief and pulled the instrument off my ears. My patient was going to make it.

Deciding to take a few minutes to enjoy my coffee, I returned to it and picked up the magazine I'd been reading before my nap. Taking a sip of invigorating brew, I opened to the folded page. It didn't take me long to finish the cup. Like everything else my captor prepared in the kitchen, even his coffee was perfect.

He was perfect.

I put my mug down and rose from the chair, stretching. “Let's see how my patient is doing, now."

Pulling back the sheet to his hips, I began checking the wounds that lay scattered across his chest. The poor man. I couldn't imagine, but I could see, the torment he had endured. I started to lift a bandage up on one of the more serious—

A hand snaked out and captured my wrist in a vice grip.

"You're hurting me,” I informed him slowly.

My patient opened his eyes. When he saw me, he released his hold.

"Sorry,” he croaked.

"It's okay. How are you feeling?"

"Exhausted, sore, and thirsty. Feel like I'm hung over, but I don't remember all of the party."

"That's understandable. You were drugged,” I explained. “Give me a moment and I'll get you something to drink."

I went to the counter and opened a bottle of water, pouring a tiny amount into a small plastic cup. I returned and placed the cup up to his lips.

"Slowly,” I cautioned. “Baby sips."

When it was all gone, he offered his ‘thanks'.

As I went to throw the plastic out, I heard my patient groan. I spun around only to find him trying to rise out of bed. I rushed back and gently pressed on his shoulders.

"No, no, no. Not yet."

"I have to talk to the others,” he strained

"They can come to you. They'll be back shortly."

My words seemed to appease him. Grimacing, he settled back onto his pillow. “The bastards really did a number on me, didn't they?"

I nodded. “But considering all you've been through, you're doing very well. Your ribs are bruised, but not broken. There appears to be no internal bleeding. As long as you take care of the burns and cuts and keep them clean, you'll be back to work in no time."

"That's good to know.” He exhaled heavily, then offered me a small smile. “So when did you get here?"

"About a month ago."

"That's why we haven't met. I've been gone for two."

"You were held captive for that long?"

He chuckled a little, something that seemed to cause him great pain. “No, they did this damage in less than three days."

"I'm sorry,” I whispered.

"Don't be. We all knew when we signed up that this could happen. So how do you like it here?"

"It's okay. It was rough at first, but things have gotten better."

"Yeah, these remote assignments can be a bitch,” he said, opening his eyes to meet my gaze. “But this is one of the better safe houses to be assigned to. The accommodations here are nicer than most."

Safe house? Oh shit! Oh shit! Oh shit!
He really didn't know! No wonder he was talking to me. No one must have told him about the circumstances that brought me here.

A small lump of guilt dropped into my stomach. Even though he didn't know he wasn't supposed to be talking to me, I knew he wasn't supposed to. Perhaps I should tell him. I didn't want him to get into trouble. Anyway, I still needed to call—

"Are you all right?” he asked.

"Yes, why?"

He stared at me in confusion. “You're very uncomfortable all of a sudden."

Crap. He was just like my captor, gifted with uncanny observational abilities. It was like being around a bunch of friggin human lie detectors. It was as fascinating as it was unnerving. I knew I should just end the conversation and walk away. That would be the right thing to do. But I was kind of curious to see how far this would go.

My patient already sensed something peculiar was up. How long would it take him to figure out that I wasn't whatever he was?

Tell only truths, Brenna.

"I'm just tired."

He lifted his head off the pillow. “So how did you get this assignment?"

This was chance to fess up, to be up-front and honest and tell him that I wasn't exactly assigned here, but more like kidnapped and brought here against my will.

Wait. Not yet.

I shrugged. “You all needed a doctor and I was available."

When he continued to stare blankly at me, I broke under the pressure and glanced away. I knew that look very well. It was the same one my captor gave when he was trying to read me after I didn't reply the way he wanted or expected. My stomach knotted in apprehension. I took a deep breath, trying to calm my rattled nerves.

"Say that again? I think the drugs have muddled my brain."

"They have,” a deep, familiar voice offered. “You're talking way too much."

I looked over my shoulder and found my captor leaning against the doorway, his muscular arms casually folded across his broad chest. My stomach fluttered. Freshly showered and dressed, he was pure masculine sexiness, right down to the cocky smirk on his handsome face.

"I am?” my patient asked.

"We borrowed the good doctor from the US military."

Shaking his head, my patient looked to me and smiled. “
Tatakallami Arabi
?"

"
Laa
—no, she doesn't,” my captor answered on my behalf.

Then my patient began spouting rapid Arabic.

There was a heavy sigh. “He's sorry, he didn't know, but he thanks you for taking
such
good care of him,” my captor translated in that ‘blah, blah, blah’ sing-song voice. “He feels bad for putting you in this awkward position, he hopes you understand, rules are rules, but he very much enjoyed what little time you two spent talking together."

My patient glared toward the door.

My capture rolled his eyes. “What? Did I forget to tell her something?"

There was a muttered reply.

An exchange of words commenced.

Like watching a ping-pong game, my head bounced between the two men as incomprehensible dialogue shot back and forth across the room.

"But she knew better,” my captor concluded with a shrug.

"What?” I asked automatically, hearing the feminine pronoun.

"Nothing,” he said with a flippant wave. “He's just trying to defend you. First, he told me to stop being impolite, then he was telling me that this whole situation concerning you was his fault. But when I pointed out—"

The bedside team interjected.

"And now he's telling me I need to be nicer to you."

"Oh.” I looked over to my patient and gave him a big, sweet smile. “Thanks."

He gave me that ‘no problem, I got your back’ wink.

"You're actually agreeing with
him
?” I heard my captor express in mock disbelief.

Turning my attention back toward the doorway, I opened my mouth to utter a retort, but found my words stolen off my tongue by a sinfully sexy smile and a pair of eyes that sparkled with a deliciously devilish gleam.

"I-um...” I couldn't form a rational thought

His heated gaze roamed over my body, lingering far too long on certain key areas, before returning to silently convey a promise of unspoken carnal delights if I responded correctly.

My breath froze and my blood ignited.

He raised his eyebrows in question. “Yes? You were saying, doctor?"

Thankfully, my escort appeared, saving me from having to come up with an answer.

Grinning, my captor leisurely strolled over and cupped my elbow. “Doctor, your
relief
is here. Time for you to take a break."

I managed to mumble a goodbye and a ‘check on you later’ to my patient before I was ushered out the room.

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"You are a wicked man,” I hissed.

"And you, my dear, are a naughty girl,” he replied, shaking his head. He opened the front door and guided me into the corridor.

"How so?"

Slowing his pace, he leaned in, placing his lips near my ear. “Plying your patient for information. You should be ashamed."

My cheeks burned. Though his tone was light with humor, his playful comment still made me feel guilty, like I had betrayed his trust in some way.

"It wasn't like that,” I explained softly as we moved into the elevator.

He pressed the second floor button and the doors slid closed. “What was it like?"

"The patient didn't share anything important. And I didn't ask him anything once I realized—"

My captor suddenly hit the emergency stop button.

Twisting me around, he forced me backward while simultaneously seizing my wrists and crossing them over my head. I gasped as his hot body trapped me against the cold elevator wall.

He looked down at me, searching my eyes. “But you let him keep talking, yes?"

I nodded reluctantly.

He seemed thoughtful for a moment. “Exactly how bad do you feel for your part in the leak?"

"Very,” I admitted.

Keeping one hand up to pin me in place, his other hand lightly, and ever so slowly, roamed down my inner arm. The feather gentle caress, in contrast to the dominant hold he exerted over me, wreaked havoc on my body. Warmth pooled in my panties.

"I'm not upset with you, Brenna."

His fingers then trailed across my collarbone and chest, drawing out a shuddered sigh. My mind, heart, and soul yielded to the simple yet commanding contact.

"I know. But I still feel bad.”
Or good, as long as you keep touching me this way.

"Do you now?” A small smile formed on his lips. “You don't seem very remorseful at the moment."

"Oh, I am,” I breathed.

"Show me how much."

Pasting on my most innocent ‘I'm sorry, I was a naughty girl’ expression, I bit my bottom lip and lowered my eyes. I arched my back, pressing my hips against his groin, conveying my desire to please him.

"And what punishment do you think you deserve for your misdeeds?” he asked.

A thousand and one things popped into my head, and all of them involved surrendering to my secret submissive fantasies. “Whatever you think is appropriate to correct my bad behavior."

"You're too good at that.” He removed his hand and restarted the elevator.

"May I ask where we're going?” I whispered.

The doors slid open.

"My flat.” He took my hand and led me out, tugging me down the corridor.

We got to the door and entered his apartment, which looked similar to my own. My captor steered me straight to his bedroom. Though sparsely decorated, it was clean, neat, and smelled of him.

Stopping before the bathroom door, he lifted my shirt, pulled it over my head and threw it on the ground. Like a child who could not undress on her own, he nudged me around and unbuckled my bra, pulling it off my arms and tossing it aside. He then turned me back and lowered my pants and underwear over my hips and down my legs. Much to my body's dismay, his hands did not linger in any one place. He went about his task as if it was household chore.

I stepped out of the pool of clothing, slipping my sandals off my feet as I did so.

"Shower,” he ordered, smacking my bare ass as he nudged me toward the bathroom. “You have two minutes. Any longer and there'll be consequences."

The
warning
heightened my excitement.

Counting the time it took me to turn on the water and get into the stall, I washed and rinsed in about one and half minutes, give or take ten seconds. If basic training had taught me anything, it was how to bathe quickly.