than being shielded from the truth. Though she didn’t believe she was in danger from Ivar and his friends, the secrets they kept appeared substantial. They’d said the physics grant was to study the ability to move through dimensions to other points of existence. Was that just a ruse? If so, why did they need her? If not, then…why keep her here? “I don’t like unsolved puzzles,” she muttered.
“Yeah, I get that.” Ivar loped toward the door. “I have hearing like a bat, so don’t think about leaving. Plus, this door locks.” He added the last almost cheerfully, shutting the door and loudly engaging said lock.
She breathed deeply for several moments, listening to the rain against the windows. Her hand fumbled when she reached over to twist on the table lamp. Then she stood, making sure her legs held her. No residual weakness remained. Good. First she checked the window, which didn’t open. Then she moved to the door and examined the lock.
A deadbolt secured the door above the doorknob. Well, she didn’t have three PhDs for nothing. Tiptoeing as quietly as she could, she went into the bathroom and rummaged through the cosmetic bag for two bobby pins, pulling one wide open to make a feeler pick.
Most people didn’t know how to pick a lock. It was just a matter of mechanics, really.
She slightly widened the middle of the other pin to create a tension wrench and then bent down by the lock. She inserted it, twisting slightly before adding the end of the first pick, scrubbing over the pins from outside to inside. She did this for several moments.
Nothing happened. Cripes.
She removed both picks and then started over, putting her ear to the door. It took nearly an hour and a multitude of tries, but finally, the pins set. Using a barely there tension, she twisted to the right, slowly forcing the bolt to retreat.
Triumph filled her as if she’d solved a truly problematic formula.
Yes, there was also something exciting about putting one over on Ivar. The man was just so male and strong, and it turned out he apparently had a decent intelligence quota too. She opened the door, very slowly, peering out to the darkened living area.
“You know, that took you about fifteen minutes longer than I expected,” Ivar said, his big body sprawled across the lone sofa in the room.
Chapter Thirteen
Ivar kept his gaze on the woman straightening to her full and not very impressive height. Not many women knew how to pick a deadbolt, but she wasn’t just an ordinary woman, now was she? What would she do now? He’d lay odds she’d confront him instead of slamming the door and going back to bed.
Her shoulders went back, and she stepped toward him.
Yep. She was complex, but he was slowly getting to know her. Each new facet of her personality, of her intelligence, of her cluelessness with males—just intrigued him more.
“You know,” he murmured, “most people are afraid of me. At least a little.” Of course, they’d seen him at his batshit craziest. Even so, many humans instinctively avoided him, even on his best day.
“Well.” She moved closer, bringing that enticing heather scent with her. She perched on the far end of the sofa by his feet, looking unbelievably young and fragile and human in the Snoopy shirt. “I can understand that. In a physical altercation with you, my only recourse would be to render you unconscious swiftly before you could retaliate.” She bit her bottom lip. “I am uncertain how to accomplish that.”
With her mind, she’d figure it out quickly. He’d have to protect his temples if she ever got her hands on a golf club. Of course, if she swung one, that’d give him an excuse to put his hands on her again. Something he desperately wanted to do. Yet, he had to be fair. “You don’t want to try it, sweetheart. You wouldn’t like the result.”
She rolled her eyes in such a feminine move he could only watch, fascinated by her. Passion and humor lurked beneath her uberlogical facade, and he wasn’t sure even she realized how much. Could he unleash that passion? Just for him? Or would she be repulsed by his natural violence and brutality when it came to his enemies? He lived in a world she couldn’t comprehend.
She smoothed her hands down her yoga pants. “You don’t sleep, do you?”
“Not much. Nightmares,” he said, giving her the full truth.
She patted his ankle. “I understand. There was a time