Page 67 of Vow Of Fire

He shrugged. “You are being held against your will.”

“Can I get that in writing?” I asked.

He smirked.

“What if you constrained me?” I asked, as an idea struck me.

Now I had his attention. “You want me to tie you up?”

“Only for a short while. You know those zip ties you used on me when you brought me here? We could tie our wrists together, then I wouldn’t be able to get away.”

He gave me a long, hard stare.

“Come on,” I pleaded. “Don’t be a grouch. It’s just a walk.”

“I am not a grouch,” he said grouchily.

I crossed my arms. Oh yeah?

He gave an exaggerated sigh and stood up. “Fine. I guess it won’t hurt. But any funny business and I’ll make you regret it.”

Yes!

One more little victory for me. Not that I was counting.

Okay, so I may not have thought it through.

Being tied to Dante was a special kind of torture all of its own. He’d taken me at my word and zip-tied our wrists together, but the problem was, now I was hyperaware of his arm against mine, his strong masculine heat, his arm hair tickling the back of my hand. With every step came a jolt of electricity as we touched.

I could tell by the tight set of his jaw that he wasn’t enjoying it much either. I tried to relax, but that just made me rub against him more.

We set off in the direction of the tree line. Dante struck a fast pace and I was almost running to keep up with his long gait.

“Can we slow down?” I puffed. “This is supposed to be a leisurely stroll, not a race.”

“You’re the one who wanted to be tied to me,” he muttered, but he slowed his pace nonetheless.

We walked in silence for a while, both lost in our own thoughts. Dante wasn’t a big talker at the best of times, so I tried to forget about him and listened to the outdoor sounds. I hadn’t heard them in a while.

A light breeze rustled through the long grass and somewhere in the distance, an owl hooted. It was pretty out here, in a remote kind of way, and I wondered if the cabin had always been used for… well, to dispose of people. It was such a shame. It could have been a really peaceful getaway from the chaos of the city.

“How well do you know Chloe?” he asked, after we’d been walking for about ten minutes.

“Chloe? Why?”

“Just answer the question.” His brow was furrowed, an expression I was used to by now, except this was a little different. He looked worried.

“She’s my friend. I know her really well.”

“How long have you known her?”

“I hired her a couple of years back. She’s competent, always on time, and does a great job. She’s supportive, and she’s always got my back.” I glanced across at him. “Why do you want to know?”

He shrugged. “Wondering if she could have leaked the shipment details, that’s all. Maybe she’s working for Malakov, or someone in Central America.”

“Heavens, no!” I shook my head so hard I nearly dislocated my neck. “Chloe wouldn’t do that. She’s a good person. Besides, she doesn’t have access to the logistics system. Alberto handles that.”

The thought that Chloe was involved was ludicrous.