remembered him scrubbing himself raw because he thought he was filthy. She swallowed, wondering what had been done to him, to his sex. Wanting him as she did seemed... inappropriate. Invasive.
Not that it changed the way she felt.
"I'm not terribly hungry," she murmured.
He pushed the tray closer to her. "Eat anyway."
When she started in on the chicken again, he took the two apples and walked across the room. He bit into one and sank down to the floor, sitting cross-legged with his eyes lowered. One arm settled across his stomach as he chewed.
"Did you have dinner downstairs?" she asked.
He shook his head and took another hunk out of the apple, the crack ricocheting around the room.
"Is that all you'll have?" When he shrugged, she muttered, "And you're telling me to eat?"
"Yeah, I am. So why don't you get back to work there, female."
"You don't like chicken?"
"I don't like food." His eyes never wavered from the floor, but his voice got pushier. "Now eat."
"Why don't you like food?"
"Can't trust it," he said tightly. "Unless you make it yourself, or can see it whole, you don't know what's in it."
"Why do you think someone would tamper-"
"Have I mentioned how much I don't like talking?"
"Will you sleep beside me tonight?" She blurted out the request, figuring she'd better get her answer before he shut up completely.
His brows flickered. "You really want that?"
"Yes, I do."
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"Then, yeah. I will."
As he polished off the two apples and she cleaned the plate, the silence wasn't exactly easy, but it didn't crackle, either. After she was finished with the carrot cake, she went into the bathroom and brushed her teeth.
By the time she came back, he was working the last apple core with his fangs, picking off the little bits of flesh that were left.
She couldn't imagine how he fought on such a diet. Surely he must eat more.
And she felt like she should say something, but instead slid into bed and curled up, waiting for him. As minutes ticked by, and all he did was surgically trim that apple, she couldn't stand the tension.
Enough, she thought. She really should go somewhere else in the house. She was using him as a crutch, and that wasn't fair.
She reached out to throw the covers back just as he uncoiled from the floor. As he walked to the bed, she froze. He dropped the apple cores next to her plate, then picked up the napkin she had used to wipe her own mouth. After rubbing his hands with the thing, he took the tray and carried it out of the room, setting it right outside the door.
When he came back he went to the other side of the bed, and the mattress dipped down as he stretched out on top of the duvet. Crossing his arms over his chest and his feet at the ankles, he shut his eyes.
One by one the candles went out around the room. When there was just a single wick that burned, he said, "I'll leave that going so you can see."
She looked at him. "Zsadist?"
"Yeah?"
"When I was..." She cleared her throat. "When I was in that hole in the ground, I thought of you. I wanted you to come for me. I knew you could get me out."
His brows went down even though his lids were lowered. "I thought of you, too."
"You did?" His chin moved up and down, and still she said, "Really?"
"Yeah. Some days... you were all I could think of."
Bella felt her eyes stretch wide. She rolled toward him and propped her head up on one arm.
"Seriously?" When he didn't reply, she had to press. "Why?"
His big chest expanded and he blew out his breath. "Wanted to get you back. That's all."
Oh... so he'd just been doing his job.
Bella dropped her arm and turned away from him. "Well... thank you for coming for me."
In the silence she watched the candle burn on the night-stand. The tear-shaped flame undulated, so lovely, so Page 115
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graceful...
Zsadist's voice was quiet. "I hated the idea that you were frightened and alone. That someone had hurt you. I couldn't... let it go."
Bella stopped breathing and glanced over her shoulder.
"I didn't sleep for those six weeks," he murmured. "All I could see when I shut my eyes was you, calling out for help."
God, even though his face was harsh, his voice was so soft and beautiful, like the candle flame.
His head swiveled toward her and his eyes opened. His