Eye of the Beholder

He wanted her. Plain and simple. Nothing noble about that. Being left in a state of acute discomfort hadn’t detracted from the pleasure he’d gained from giving Glenna pleasure. Even knowing that she’d used him hadn’t made any difference.

And she had used him, he reminded himself. He could have been anyone. People reacted to stress in a wide variety of ways. Over the years, he’d seen it all. Some got hysterical, screaming and crying out their fears. Some withdrew into the total escape of catatonia. Some did what Glenna had done, desperately channeling all the flight-fight hormones that were stirred up by the fear into an equally primitive emotion—lust. He’d felt it himself when he’d rolled on top of her, back when he’d first awakened in this room. She probably didn’t even understand what had come over her. He couldn’t take it personally. As he’d already told himself, any warm body would have served her equally well in the dark.

Unlike her, though, he had no illusions. He knew what was going to happen if they ever got out of here. As soon as she got back to her high-powered job and manicured men, she’d realize how low she’d sunk. She’d be aghast at her behavior. She’d look on him with revulsion. She’d pretend she’d never done anything so sordid as make love with a virtual stranger—an ugly stranger—on a concrete floor.

He dipped his head, burying his nose in Glenna’s hair. He inhaled her scent to block out the odor of the storeroom. Traces of her tangy-sweet perfume, hints of shampoo and the underlying scent of a warm female. Heady stuff. Almost made him wish…

He yanked his thoughts back on track before they could veer in that direction. They hadn’t made love, he reminded himself. They’d done a sexual act, that’s all. Not even a very good one, considering how quickly it had been over.

And it was over. No doubt about that. He couldn’t afford to be distracted by this woman again. He had to focus on getting her out safely. That was his job.

He pressed a kiss to her forehead. Six more minutes. Then they would move. He stroked his hand across her cheek…and his fingertips brushed the tracks of her dried tears.

Damn, he was a bastard. But what else was new? He moved his hand to her shoulder and gave her a gentle shake. “Glenna?”

She stretched briefly, her breasts pressing into his ribs, then she snuggled her head more tightly against his neck.

Rafe gritted his teeth and shook her again. “Glenna, wake up.”

She stilled. Her breathing changed from the slow, deep inhalations of sleep to shallow bursts. “Rafe?”

He could hear the confusion in her voice. He could imagine the dazed expression on her beautiful face. If they were anywhere else, he’d wake her up with a kiss and coax her body into awareness and—

No. If they were anywhere else, she wouldn’t even be with him. “I’ve been listening to the guards outside the door,” he said. “One of them left fifty minutes ago, so that leaves only two.”

She took her hand from his chest and rubbed her face. “I…I must have fallen asleep,” she said, her voice muffled.

“Yeah. I’m hoping the guards did, too, but even if they didn’t, the odds have improved.”

“I can’t believe I slept.”

“Feel better?”

“Yes, I—” She stopped suddenly. Her body tightened. “Oh, my God,” she whispered. She pushed herself out of his embrace and rolled away.

Well, that didn’t take long, he thought. He sat up, resting his arm on his bent knee. “Glenna—”

“Oh, my God. I can’t believe I…we…”

He was grateful for the darkness. He didn’t want to see the look on her face. “Forget it. Things happen. We have more important problems to worry about.”

She was silent for a while. “I’m sorry, Rafe,” she said finally. “I…I took advantage of you.”

That stunned him. She was apologizing? To him? “Glenna, I’m the one who owes you an apology.”

“No, you don’t. It was—”

“A mistake,” he said gruffly. “I shouldn’t have gone so far.”

“I wanted you to.”

“You were stressed-out and didn’t know what you were doing.”

“You’re wrong, Rafe. I know what I’m doing. I’m living.” Her fingers brushed his sleeve. Her voice steadied. “And I won’t have any regrets. I promised myself that.”

Yeah, right, he thought. “Like I said, you’re stressed-out. How’s the ankle?”

“My…” There was a shuffling sound. “It’s still sore.”

“Do you think you can walk on it?”

“I guess. Not far.”

“We’ll need a vehicle once we get out of the house.”

“Yes, I remember you mentioned that before.”

“Once we see where we are, we’ll make our way to an alternate extraction point and wait for my team.”

“Wouldn’t they have left by now?”

“They’ll come back.”

“Rafe?”

“What?”

“Whatever happens, I want you to know how grateful I am for everything you’ve done.” She slid her fingers down his sleeve to the back of his hand. “I’d never have gotten this far without you.”

“I don’t want your gratitude, Glenna.”

“It’s more than gratitude I feel for you, Rafe.”

He ground his teeth to keep from swearing. She might say she wouldn’t have any regrets, but the more she built this illusion in her head, the harder she was going to fall when it was over.

And the more she acted this way, the more he might start to wish it could be real…

Dammit, he didn’t have time to deal with Glenna and her tangled emotions now. He’d leave that to the army shrinks.

The six minutes were up. He pushed to his feet. At the change of position, the wound in his thigh throbbed suddenly, a reminder of the infection that was continuing to get worse. He took long, slow breaths until he brought the pain under control, then moved to the door.

It was quiet on the other side. He didn’t hear any conversation, but he didn’t hear snores, either. He couldn’t assume this was going to be easy.

He ran his palm down the door until he came to the lock. It was a run-of-the-mill hardware store dead bolt, keyed on both sides. Not much of a challenge if he had the right tools, but he hadn’t found anything useful on his previous survey of the storeroom.

He sensed Glenna’s presence behind him even before he caught a whiff of her perfume and felt the warmth that came from her body. Her voice was no more than a whisper in his ear. “What’s the plan?”

His pulse thudded at the tickle of her breath. That bothered him. He couldn’t afford to be distracted, he reminded himself. “We’re going to use the element of surprise. When I give you the word, start screaming.”