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Authors: Kaitlyn O'Connor
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sink. He hadn’t bothered to put any clothes on—not even a robe!
God! He had a nice ass!
She whipped her head around when she saw him start to turn toward the table and discovered Caleb and Joshua were both watching her. Feeling her face heat, she got up abruptly. “I think I’ll have some coffee, too, if it’s alright?”
Not that she wanted coffee, but it was the only thing she could think of to cover the fact that she’d been staring at Simon’s ass. She’d grabbed a cup and was reaching for the pot when it abruptly occurred to her that it was doubtful they had cream. “I don’t suppose you have cream?”
Caleb stared at her blankly.
“No cream,” Joshua said sardonically. “It’s a major bitch trying to milk fish.”
Anna glared at him. “I think I’ll just have water.”
“The water’s rationed,” Simon growled. “The terrorists blew up the desalination plant.”
Anna’s lips tightened. “Caleb made coffee! What did he do, piss in the pot?”
Simon strangled on his coffee.
Caleb uttered a choked laugh and then apparently thought better of it when Simon glared at him. He cleared his throat. “Everybody’s allowed four a day. I used the morning ration to make coffee.”
Anna poured herself a cup and settled at the table again, glaring at the dark liquid.
She didn’t want coffee, damn it! She didn’t even like coffee with cream. It just made it more bearable.
She drank it, though, every drop and then took her plate and cup to the sink and went back to her ‘dungeon’ to sulk. Uneasiness crept in after a while when she’d listened to men moving around the house. She could hear their voices although she couldn’t make out what they were saying and wondered if the conversation pertained to her.
Surely they wouldn’t keep her long? If they’d checked her out, wouldn’t they know she hadn’t had any dealings with Miles Cavendish before?
But how could they, she realized uneasily. The connection they’d found was a public record. She could’ve found it if it had ever occurred to her to research it.
Except her mother had given a false name for her father on her birth certificate … or, at least she had on the birth certificate she’d given her. Was it fake? If it wasn’t, she realized, they wouldn’t have found it and known Miles Cavendish was her father.
Just how many lies had her mother told her, she wondered?
She shook that thought off. She wasn’t going to start doubting her mother. She knew everything she’d done had been intended to protect both of them, not to deceive her. It still distressed her that her mother never had told her the truth, but who was to say she wouldn’t have, eventually, if she hadn’t died?
That thought resurrected a memory and gave rise to some very unpleasant speculation. Miles Cavendish hadn’t seemed to be the least surprised that her mother was dead, which meant he’d known when he asked her. She didn’t suppose she could or even should read anything else into it beyond deception, though why he’d pretended he didn’t know everything about her when he’d clearly already decided to tell her about himself was a mystery.
What bothered her was the perception at the time that he was almost pleased at the news. She hadn’t known then, and she certainly didn’t know now, why she’d gotten that impression, but she realized it probably wasn’t a false one.
Either he’d been pleased because he still held a grudge against her mother for running off.
Or he was pleased because he’d finally tracked her down and gotten his revenge.
The thought made her cold. She tried to dismiss it. She wanted to, but once the thought occurred to her she couldn’t banish it.
* * * *
Simon wasn’t particularly happy when they settled down to compare notes over their interrogation and it was born in upon him that Anna was either the best liar he’d ever come across, or she was telling the truth.
It was more than the frustration in
God! He had a nice ass!
She whipped her head around when she saw him start to turn toward the table and discovered Caleb and Joshua were both watching her. Feeling her face heat, she got up abruptly. “I think I’ll have some coffee, too, if it’s alright?”
Not that she wanted coffee, but it was the only thing she could think of to cover the fact that she’d been staring at Simon’s ass. She’d grabbed a cup and was reaching for the pot when it abruptly occurred to her that it was doubtful they had cream. “I don’t suppose you have cream?”
Caleb stared at her blankly.
“No cream,” Joshua said sardonically. “It’s a major bitch trying to milk fish.”
Anna glared at him. “I think I’ll just have water.”
“The water’s rationed,” Simon growled. “The terrorists blew up the desalination plant.”
Anna’s lips tightened. “Caleb made coffee! What did he do, piss in the pot?”
Simon strangled on his coffee.
Caleb uttered a choked laugh and then apparently thought better of it when Simon glared at him. He cleared his throat. “Everybody’s allowed four a day. I used the morning ration to make coffee.”
Anna poured herself a cup and settled at the table again, glaring at the dark liquid.
She didn’t want coffee, damn it! She didn’t even like coffee with cream. It just made it more bearable.
She drank it, though, every drop and then took her plate and cup to the sink and went back to her ‘dungeon’ to sulk. Uneasiness crept in after a while when she’d listened to men moving around the house. She could hear their voices although she couldn’t make out what they were saying and wondered if the conversation pertained to her.
Surely they wouldn’t keep her long? If they’d checked her out, wouldn’t they know she hadn’t had any dealings with Miles Cavendish before?
But how could they, she realized uneasily. The connection they’d found was a public record. She could’ve found it if it had ever occurred to her to research it.
Except her mother had given a false name for her father on her birth certificate … or, at least she had on the birth certificate she’d given her. Was it fake? If it wasn’t, she realized, they wouldn’t have found it and known Miles Cavendish was her father.
Just how many lies had her mother told her, she wondered?
She shook that thought off. She wasn’t going to start doubting her mother. She knew everything she’d done had been intended to protect both of them, not to deceive her. It still distressed her that her mother never had told her the truth, but who was to say she wouldn’t have, eventually, if she hadn’t died?
That thought resurrected a memory and gave rise to some very unpleasant speculation. Miles Cavendish hadn’t seemed to be the least surprised that her mother was dead, which meant he’d known when he asked her. She didn’t suppose she could or even should read anything else into it beyond deception, though why he’d pretended he didn’t know everything about her when he’d clearly already decided to tell her about himself was a mystery.
What bothered her was the perception at the time that he was almost pleased at the news. She hadn’t known then, and she certainly didn’t know now, why she’d gotten that impression, but she realized it probably wasn’t a false one.
Either he’d been pleased because he still held a grudge against her mother for running off.
Or he was pleased because he’d finally tracked her down and gotten his revenge.
The thought made her cold. She tried to dismiss it. She wanted to, but once the thought occurred to her she couldn’t banish it.
* * * *
Simon wasn’t particularly happy when they settled down to compare notes over their interrogation and it was born in upon him that Anna was either the best liar he’d ever come across, or she was telling the truth.
It was more than the frustration in
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