Read Online Hitman's Captive: A Bad Boy Romance by Lara Swann - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Lara Swann
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arrogance he’d displayed so
far replaced by what almost seemed like real concern. I waited a few beats for
it to fade, for the mocking that would no doubt follow, but those deep blue
eyes were genuine.
I bit my lip and then,
looking down again, reluctantly nodded. He didn’t say anything as he put the
pizza down and went over to the sink to wash his hands - surprising me that he
even bothered with that. It didn’t fit the rough murderer type. If rough murderers
had a type. Which they had to, right?
He took up the chair in
front of me again, and started taking items out of the first aid kit before
gesturing for me to lay my arm on the table. I did, with the wrist up, and he
took out an antibacterial wipe - making me feel stupid all over again for
forgetting it.
“This will sting a
little.” His voice was almost gentle as he glanced up at me, and any thought of
responding with something sarcastic disappeared as I caught something
unexpected in those blue eyes.
Instead, I just nodded,
and turned my head away as he cleaned the cut with a care that I didn’t want to
notice. I wasn’t sure what I’d seen in his expression but I didn’t want to know
any more. His calloused fingers against my wrist were already making my pulse
jump and spark, and anything else would just confuse my tired, worn-out mind
further.
He was fixing an injury
that he’d caused. That was all. One that only existed because he’d kidnapped
me.
I forced myself to pull
it together as he started wrapping the bandage expertly around me before tying
it off, hoping he couldn’t feel the way my body reacted to his touch.
“There, should be good
now.” There was no mockery in the simple satisfaction on his face, and I
figured maybe he just liked doing things with his hands.
Then I blushed furiously
as my mind leapt to other things he could be doing with his hands.
Like killing people.
Don’t forget, Alessa. His handsome face held a gun to you without hesitation.
He moved back to the
other side of the table and I flexed my wrist experimentally. Plenty of
movement, but it was securely wrapped up.
“Thank you.” The words
came reluctantly, and it felt somewhat wrong to say them to my kidnapper - but
he’d helped me without mockery, and I couldn’t bring myself to ignore that.
A flash of surprise
passed of his face, before he shrugged awkwardly and turned back to the pizza.
My attention followed his, and now my stomach rumbled openly. I twisted in embarrassment,
but either he hadn’t heard or he didn’t care, and I studied the pizza again.
It only took a couple
more moments before I reached for a slice, shrugging. Small acts of defiance
were fine, but when they only hurt me, what was the point? I was never going to
go on a full-out hunger strike, so letting my pride get in the way of something
I wanted suddenly seemed stupid - as did refusing to take anything from my
captor.
The better strategy would
be to take everything I could get, and use it as I could against him. The pizza
would give me the energy to resist him again, so…I still won. Just so long as I
remembered that whatever he offered me didn’t make him a good person. Pizza
couldn’t override the karma debt of kidnapping and murder.
Feeling better about the
decision, I took a quick bite, then wrinkled my nose in disappointment.
“It’s cold.”
“Well, it took us a
little time to get to it,” the amusement returned to his expression, but this
time I didn’t mind it so much. “Pizza’s good cold - but there’s a microwave
over there if you want it.”
I stood up and went
looking for a plate to stack a few pieces on. I didn’t get pizza often, and if
I was going to take in way more calories than I should, I was going to make
sure it was worth every bite. As I looked through the cupboards, it occurred to
me that this was a kitchen - and it probably wouldn’t be hard to find a knife.
My heart jumped in my chest, and my body tensed slightly at the thought. I
should
far replaced by what almost seemed like real concern. I waited a few beats for
it to fade, for the mocking that would no doubt follow, but those deep blue
eyes were genuine.
I bit my lip and then,
looking down again, reluctantly nodded. He didn’t say anything as he put the
pizza down and went over to the sink to wash his hands - surprising me that he
even bothered with that. It didn’t fit the rough murderer type. If rough murderers
had a type. Which they had to, right?
He took up the chair in
front of me again, and started taking items out of the first aid kit before
gesturing for me to lay my arm on the table. I did, with the wrist up, and he
took out an antibacterial wipe - making me feel stupid all over again for
forgetting it.
“This will sting a
little.” His voice was almost gentle as he glanced up at me, and any thought of
responding with something sarcastic disappeared as I caught something
unexpected in those blue eyes.
Instead, I just nodded,
and turned my head away as he cleaned the cut with a care that I didn’t want to
notice. I wasn’t sure what I’d seen in his expression but I didn’t want to know
any more. His calloused fingers against my wrist were already making my pulse
jump and spark, and anything else would just confuse my tired, worn-out mind
further.
He was fixing an injury
that he’d caused. That was all. One that only existed because he’d kidnapped
me.
I forced myself to pull
it together as he started wrapping the bandage expertly around me before tying
it off, hoping he couldn’t feel the way my body reacted to his touch.
“There, should be good
now.” There was no mockery in the simple satisfaction on his face, and I
figured maybe he just liked doing things with his hands.
Then I blushed furiously
as my mind leapt to other things he could be doing with his hands.
Like killing people.
Don’t forget, Alessa. His handsome face held a gun to you without hesitation.
He moved back to the
other side of the table and I flexed my wrist experimentally. Plenty of
movement, but it was securely wrapped up.
“Thank you.” The words
came reluctantly, and it felt somewhat wrong to say them to my kidnapper - but
he’d helped me without mockery, and I couldn’t bring myself to ignore that.
A flash of surprise
passed of his face, before he shrugged awkwardly and turned back to the pizza.
My attention followed his, and now my stomach rumbled openly. I twisted in embarrassment,
but either he hadn’t heard or he didn’t care, and I studied the pizza again.
It only took a couple
more moments before I reached for a slice, shrugging. Small acts of defiance
were fine, but when they only hurt me, what was the point? I was never going to
go on a full-out hunger strike, so letting my pride get in the way of something
I wanted suddenly seemed stupid - as did refusing to take anything from my
captor.
The better strategy would
be to take everything I could get, and use it as I could against him. The pizza
would give me the energy to resist him again, so…I still won. Just so long as I
remembered that whatever he offered me didn’t make him a good person. Pizza
couldn’t override the karma debt of kidnapping and murder.
Feeling better about the
decision, I took a quick bite, then wrinkled my nose in disappointment.
“It’s cold.”
“Well, it took us a
little time to get to it,” the amusement returned to his expression, but this
time I didn’t mind it so much. “Pizza’s good cold - but there’s a microwave
over there if you want it.”
I stood up and went
looking for a plate to stack a few pieces on. I didn’t get pizza often, and if
I was going to take in way more calories than I should, I was going to make
sure it was worth every bite. As I looked through the cupboards, it occurred to
me that this was a kitchen - and it probably wouldn’t be hard to find a knife.
My heart jumped in my chest, and my body tensed slightly at the thought. I
should
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