“Goddammit!” His curse was filled with pain, and he reared back, and I took advantage of the movement to thrust my knee up. A one in a million chance, but it worked, and I heard his low, guttural groan as I caught him hard in the balls.
I tried to bolt off the bed, but my arm was still tied fast to the headboard. And as I tried to steady my breathing—tried to think—I saw Tyler lift his head, and I saw the heat and danger flash wildly in his eyes.
Before, I’d been afraid of the memories. Now, I was afraid of the man.
This is it, I thought. Dear god, this is it.
“Stay away,” I snarled. “Just stay the fuck away.”
“Sloane.” He said my name and then dropped his head, his body hunched over on the floor beside the bed.
I twisted, trying to loosen the knot with my free hand.
“I’m sorry.” Regret laced his voice, and when I turned my head and looked at him, the anger I’d seen in his eyes was gone. Instead I saw only tenderness—and endless pools of regret.
I felt my body sag with relief. “Let me go,” I said. “Just let me get the hell out of here.”
“I’m sorry,” he said again as he rose slowly to his feet. “I didn’t know. I thought you—I didn’t know,” he repeated, but I didn’t understand what he meant.
He reached for me, and I flinched. He froze, his face as tight and hard as if I’d hit him.
“I didn’t know,” he said yet again, and though I still didn’t understand, I wasn’t about to ask. Right then, I didn’t care. I just wanted out of there.
I felt a tear escape to track down my cheek, and I turned brutally away. “Please,” I said. “Just untie me.”
“Of course. Of course, I will.”
He did, and I sat up, feeling fragile and confused. I started to reach for the robe, but he bent to get it before I could, and handed it to me.
I stood, then shrugged it on.
“Stay,” he said, but I just shook my head. I moved to the living room, feeling a bit like I was in a dream. I didn’t see my panties, and I didn’t really care. I shimmied into the dress, then tied the halter behind my neck. I was already zipping the back when Tyler came in.
“Sloane. Please. Don’t go.”
But I could only shake my head. I couldn’t stay. Not for Candy. Not for Amy. Not even for myself.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered. And then I snatched up my purse and ran barefoot into the hall.
Chapter Eleven
I stumbled blindly down the hall, then yanked open the door to the hidden staircase that led down to the ninth floor and the elevator that would take me back to the lobby.
At each turn I looked behind me, making sure that Tyler wasn’t back there. I told myself I didn’t want him to follow, and since he apparently wasn’t, I also told myself that was a good thing.
Somehow, though, I didn’t believe it.
The fear was fading now, the memories slipping back into the dark where they belonged. Exhaustion dogged me, physical and emotional. The whole night had been a whirlwind—of fear, of pleasure, of danger and desire.
In the end, the fear had overshadowed it all, but I couldn’t deny that these hours with Tyler had been so much more. More than I had expected. More than just the job.
He’d taken me to places I’d never been, and I’d felt a heightened desire that I’d never before experienced. But I couldn’t stay. I couldn’t give him what he wanted.
I knew damn well that Tyler was dangerous in so many ways, but I didn’t fear him in bed. No, it wasn’t the man I feared, but the door that he could open. A door that kept the memories and the dark things at bay.
A door I was determined to keep locked tight, and through which I dreaded even the smallest crack.
I waited impatiently at the ninth floor elevator bank, shifting my weight from foot to foot until the elevator finally arrived and I could collapse on the fainting couch and bury my face in my hands.