He was in front of her before she realized he moved. His hands cupped the sides of her face, keeping her from looking away. “Say my name again.”
“Peter.”
His lips closed over hers and Alex forced herself to remain still, to not succumb to the urge to bite him as he kissed her.
He stepped back and grinned. “I knew you would come around, darling. Now, let’s get you out of these restraints.”
Alex waited as he first unbound her torso and then her legs. Lastly he freed her arms, but kept a tight grip on her injured wrist so she had to grit her teeth to keep from whimpering.
“Just one last bit of business, darling,” he said as he forced her into a chair at the worktable. He produced a set of plastic zip-tie cuffs and looped one end over her uninjured wrist.
“What are these for? I thought we were going to talk.”
“We are.” He looped the other end over the chair’s ladder-style back. “There, that should do it.” He gave her another quick kiss. “After you’ve cleaned your plate we’ll discuss taking those off.”
Alex tried to remain cheery while he placed the plate of eggs and sausage patties in front of her. She picked up the fork and thought for a moment of gouging out his eyes but dug into the eggs instead. She would need her strength for the next part of her plan to work.
She shoveled the first forkful of cheesy scrambled eggs into her mouth. The softness of the eggs combined with the slightly oily bite of the cheese made her mouth water and her stomach grumble.
Peter smiled. “You like it?”
She hated to admit it but she nodded, spearing a piece of sausage with her fork. It was tender inside and slightly crispy outside. Peppery spices exploded across her tongue and she had to stifle a satisfied groan.
“Now that we’re together, darling, I’ll make all your favorites—key lime pie, sweet-and-sour chicken, shrimp scampi.” He poured a cup of steaming dark coffee and set it beside her. “I even have your favorite movies on DVD. We can pop popcorn and watch To Kill a Mockingbird anytime you want.”
She swallowed the soft mass of eggs that had suddenly turned cold in her mouth. “How do you know so much about me?”
“We’re soul mates, darling,” he answered as if that explained everything.
“But I’ve only just met you. I’ve been blood-bound to Varik for years and—”
“Do not speak his name!” Peter’s fist crashed onto the table with the force of a gunshot. “You will never speak of him again!”
Alex recoiled from his anger. “I don’t understand. If you and I are soul mates, as you say, what harm can there be—”
“He is a deceiver,” Peter hissed. “He tried to steal you from me. The sooner you forget about him the better.”
Alex toyed with the coffee cup. “And if I don’t want to forget about him?”
He grabbed her jaw, fingers digging into an already-tender bruise, and forced her to look at him. “You will forget about him. I’ll see to that.”
“I’d like to see you try,” she spat and flung the scalding coffee into his face.
He shrieked and released her, trying to wipe the burning liquid from his eyes.
Alex jumped to her feet, grabbed the back of her wooden chair, and with a roar, smashed it across his back. The chair shattered, and Peter collapsed onto the table, groaning. The zip-tie looped around the chair’s back slipped loose, and she dashed for the attic exit. She neared the top of the stairs when Peter’s hand grabbed her hair and pulled her back.
His leg swiped hers and threw her to the floor. He covered her with his body, pinning her like a moth stuck to a specimen board. “That’s the last time you’re going to do that, tricky chickie,” he snarled, inches from her face.
“Go to Hell,” she growled.
He gently stroked her face and then entwined his fingers in her hair. A savage grin split his face. “You first.”
Alex felt the floor drop away beneath them, and she screamed as he forced his way into her mind.
Hurtling down Interstate 55 at speeds nearing one hundred miles an hour, Tasha reconsidered the wisdom of agreeing to ride with Damian and his Enforcers as they raced to catch up with Varik. However, time had been a factor and she hadn’t been afforded the luxury of rational thought. Damian had simply held open the rear door of the black Ford Expedition and told her to get in