Ronan touched my chin, and it was a shock. His finger was warm and gentle, and I wanted to shut my eyes. I wanted to lean my cheek into his hand and stop time.
What was happening? Maybe there was such a thing as knights in shining armor, and mine had a black T-shirt and a tattoo, and liked to hang out at the registrar’s.
He turned my face to his. Not that it took any great feat of strength. I’d been longing to clamp an uninterrupted stare on him since I first spotted him.
“I’ll take you someplace very far away.” Ronan’s voice was subdued, and it came out as a rasp. “Far from your father. From the people who don’t understand you.”
He’d touched a nerve. I considered pulling away, but didn’t have the heart. Instead, I let my eyes fall into his, and they were so very green, the color of a deep, dark, haunted forest, and it made some delicious, dangerous sensation shiver across my skin.
He toyed with the hair at the nape of my neck, and again I felt that buzz of electricity shimmer across my skin. He gave me a little half smile. “But will you have the courage?”
I squinted my eyes shut tight, trying to clear my head. Something wasn’t right. He was just a guy, and I never had this sort of reaction to guys. Yet every time he touched me, I went all limp and easy. With one brush of his hand, the guy could probably sell me a bridge, much less sweet-talk me onto some swanky private jet.
“Will you or won’t you, Annelise?” Heat fanned from his fingers, penetrating deep into my brain, confusing me, making me putty to his touch.
“Yes,” I heard myself whisper. “I will.”
As I opened my eyes, he pulled away from me, and cold clarity prickled my brain like blood returning to a numbed limb.
I watched Ronan as he studied his fisted hands. His muscles were tensed and his eyes looked fierce, making me suddenly uneasy. I was itching inside my skin, longing to feel his reassuring touch once more. Eager to break the silence, I asked, “Where are we going?”
He gazed blindly out the window, resting his hands on the steering wheel. “Far away. Life as you know it will change utterly.”
I stared hard at his profile, wondering if I’d seen uncertainty shadow his face. Did he regret asking me? Had I heard hesitation in his voice, or was it just my imagination?
He’d pulled his eyes from mine, and that earlier sense of unreality was creeping back in, clinging in the back of my mind like shadows in corners. His silence unnerved me, and I wanted to normalize the situation. “Far away?” I asked. “Are we going west?”
“No. We’re leaving the country. For an island.”
My brows rose at the word island. “Like the Caribbean?”
He faced me, his eyes grown hard. “Not that kind of island. It’s far away. Far north. North of Scotland. North of the Shetlands. It’s a dark place. A cold place.”
Why was his voice so flat? Renewed doubt was making me queasy.
“Is that where you’re from?” I asked, desperate to experience that warmth again, for this to be all right. Images of maps flitted through my head—a photographic memory was good for something. “Is it the Faroe Islands? Iceland?”
“Near there. It’s not a place you’ve heard of.” He looked back at me, and I tried to summon the ease he’d made me feel before. “And, aye. It’s where I’m from.”
He was taking me to see his home? I found it hard to believe we were even having this conversation. My thoughts were so jumbled, as though not my own. “How will I get back if . . . if I don’t like it?”
“You won’t want to leave.”
I mulled what he could mean by that, but he seemed to sense my anxiety, and the shadows cleared from his eyes. He stroked a finger down my cheek. “I’m taking you to a place where there are other girls like you. Girls with . . . gifts.”
This took me aback. It was looking like this . . . thing with Ronan was less run-away-together than it was some sort of recruiting exercise. Oddly, the prospect reassured me, explaining his presence at a university and why he’d want someone like me.
The fog cleared a bit from my mind. “Like a special school?”
“Aye. Like a special school. To train girls.”
“Train them to what?”
“To become women.”
My breath hitched. Oh, God, this was a sex-slave thing. He could give me all the mesmerizing looks and lingering touches in the world, and never would I vibe with anything like that.
He rolled his eyes, reading my thoughts. “Not like that. Successful women, with skills and depth.”