Captive Romance

Chapter Seven

Chapter Seven

Rebecca had no way of knowing the time. She had no way of knowing if it was day or night as she sat in the windowless room and stared at the rough walls around her.

It had been a long while since she'd seen Brantley. He had brought her dinner and she assumed it now had to be getting close to morning—perhaps it already was. Would he be coming? She needed to see to personal business.

Was she going to have to yell for him?

Just as Rebecca was preparing to do just that, the door opened and Brantley stepped in. "Good morning, ma'am."

The friendly greeting caught her off guard. Brantley made no sense. He ran with bad men, he was keeping her prisoner and yet he seemed so.... Decent.

"Good morning, Brantley."

"I'll take you to the outhouse and when you get settled back down in here I'll make some breakfast."

"You don't have to keep me locked up," Rebecca assured him. "I won't run. You were right. I wouldn't have any idea where to go."

Brantley merely grunted as he pulled a key from his shirt pocket and stepped toward her. "We'll see."

As Brantley bent over her to unlatch her wrist from the shackles, Rebecca felt that uncontrollable heat flare to life once again within her.

His body was so close to hers, she would barely have to move to come in contact with him. His neck was brushing against her temple. If she turned her head she could kiss that hot skin.....

Rebecca was shaken from her erotic fantasy when Brantley stood straight and her arm fell free. "Are you comin'?" Brantley asked, already heading for the door.

Rebecca stood slowly, attempting to work her way through the lusty haze his closeness had trapped her in.

Her body ached from her recent inactivity. She needed to enjoy movement while it was hers because Brantley would likely be chaining her up again soon.

Raising her arms over her head, Rebecca arched her back and stretched her underused muscles. Awareness jolted through her and Rebecca looked toward the doorway to see Brantley watching her closely.

His predatory green eyes were locked on her as he gripped the door tightly. His tongue darted out across his firm bottom lip and his a growl left his throat.

Rebecca's knees weakened from the sheer power of that gaze. Never had a man looked upon her with such hunger. And never had Rebecca felt such a hunger of her own. Never had she wanted a man's touch so desperately—so fervently.

If Brantley stepped toward her, if he touched her, she wouldn't be able to say no. She would melt under his touch like ice under the sun.

How she longed for him to take that step. To put those calloused fingers against her skin and further awaken this burning, aching desire she felt flickering within her.

Then, suddenly, Brantley turned and was gone.

A breath Rebecca hadn't realized she'd been holding whooshed from her lungs. What the devil was wrong with her?! She was a married woman and Brantley was holding her captive here!

Perhaps the knock on her head had addled her more than she'd thought.

Rebecca gathered her wits about her, smoothed out her skirt and stepped out of the tiny room. She glanced around the tiny cabin for Brantley but didn't see him.