The Outlaw Prince's Captive - Holly Rayner Page 0,24

pretty open and shut.”

“I remember,” Francesca said. “There’s just something about the way he’s been acting that makes me think there’s something we don’t know yet. I’ll try to get it out of him while I’m here, if I can.”

“What do you mean, while you’re there?”

“Haven’t you looked outside?” Francesca asked.

“It’s snowing,” Laird said.

“It’s a winter storm,” Francesca said. “The whole island is locked down. Nobody can go anywhere.”

“Which means you’re stuck there,” Laird said.

“It’s all right,” Francesca said quickly. “Lindström said I could stay. And if you think about it, this is a good thing.”

“Oh, God. Explain to me how this is a good thing.”

“Because he can’t get away,” Francesca said. “As soon as the weather clears, I’ll be able to bring him in. I just have to get through this lockdown first.”

“I knew this was a bad idea,” Laird said. “I knew it.”

“It’s not a bad idea. Everything’s going to be fine,” she said. “I’m going to bed now, okay? But I’ll call you in the morning to check in.”

“I have absolutely no idea how I’m going to explain this to Voles,” Laird said. “Stay safe, please.”

They hung up.

Francesca went to the bed, turned back the covers, and got in. She was surprised to find that she was tired. Glancing at her phone again, she saw that it was still fairly early—only nine o’clock.

But then, it had been a very hectic day. And the last time she had slept had been on the plane, which hadn’t been exactly restful. She supposed it made sense that she was exhausted, after everything that had happened.

She sighed, leaning back against the pillows. They were incredibly soft, soft enough that she could sink into them—but they were thick, too, so that they didn’t seem to flatten out beneath her. It was hard to believe that someone would have such comfortable bedding in a guest room, and she wondered if she had just made a lucky choice or if every room in the house was this nice.

It was too bad, she reflected, that she didn’t have a change of clothes. It would have been wonderful to take a shower and change into something clean. She thought with longing of her suitcase, outside in the trunk of the car she had left parked on the street.

So close, and yet so far.

It occurred to her that she still had the keys to Lindström’s house. That idea made her feel a little better. She was free to come and go as she pleased. If she decided to leave the house, he wouldn’t be able to lock her out. Which meant that she could potentially go to her car and rescue her bag.

But she wasn’t about to try it in the dark. And by the time morning came, her car might be completely snowed under.

Francesca sighed and closed her eyes.

What was she doing? Why had she been so determined that this was a good idea? She had a partner here on the island with her, and yet she had insisted upon acting alone.

She knew that if the positions were reversed, if Laird had tried to go off on his own, she would have been furious with him for putting himself at risk. She would never have accepted it.

She felt guilty, suddenly, thinking about what he must be feeling. What she was putting him through. And all because I was so determined to prove myself.

And where had it gotten her?

Alone, snowbound, in a house with a felon.

Her skin crawled at the thought that Lindström was right downstairs. She still didn’t believe he would kill her or take any action to harm her. What had happened in New York had clearly been an accident, even if he wasn’t particularly remorseful about it.

But still, it was creepy to be around someone who could be so cavalier about death. She remembered the way he had laughed, the way he had seemed to be mocking her when he had pointed out that he couldn’t be extradited. As if the whole thing was some big joke.

Someone had died, and Lindström thought of it as a joke.

That was who she was sharing a house with right now.

And there would be no escape for her until the snow melted—and there was no telling when that would be.

She rolled over onto her side and pulled one of the thick pillows into her arms, curling her body around it. She buried her face in the softness and took several deep breaths, trying to quiet her mind. Trying