Free Taken With The Enemy by Tia Fanning Page A

talking about,” I muttered.
    My escort had the gall to smirk.
    I threw up my hands in frustration. “Fine. You win. Is my ... host here? In the building?"
    He nodded.
    That meant ... “He's avoiding me."
    My escort didn't deny or confirm my statement.
    "I take it you saw what happened last night. The kiss and all."
    At first, my escort just stared at me. But I held his gaze, demanding that he answer the question. Finally, he slowly nodded, a smile touching his lips.
    I wanted to ask him why he was here with me and not my captor, but that would be an open question. So, I figured I'd have to go through the list of possible reasons as to why my captor wasn't here.
    I went with the reason foremost in my mind; the one that worried me the most, the one question with a ‘wrong’ answer that could literally shatter me into a million pieces. Did I really want to know?
    "Is he embarrassed?” I asked. “Is that why he did not come to collect me?"
    My escort went wide eyed in shock. He actually looked at a loss for words—or gestures in his case.
    Taking his silence as a concurrence, I hung my head in shame, tears of humiliation instantly welled in my eyes. Oh, my God. He was embarrassed to have kissed me. In my mind, it had been the most amazing kiss of my life. I guess my captor felt differently.
    "Was it that horrible for him?” I whispered.
    Suddenly, my escort's booted feet came into view. I glanced up when he put his hand on my shoulder and leaned in. He pointed at me and shook his head. Then made an indication of bringing a glass to his mouth.
    "Embarrassed because I had been drinking?"
    He smiled and nodded. He then put the back of his hand to his forehead and tilted his head to the side.
    "And then I passed out,” I offered.
    He nodded again.
    I gave a half-hearted giggle, then covered my eyes with my hands and abruptly started sobbing in relief. If he only knew the real reason why I fainted.
    My escort sat down next to me, awkwardly patting my back in comfort. I leaned into him, resting my head on his shoulder. He wrapped his arm around me and stroked my hair while I cried into his chest.
    I had to stop this. I had to get control of myself. I shouldn't be crying this much. I knew I was in a rough situation, but I had to be strong, to overcome. And more importantly, I had to figure out why my captor had such an impact on me, and I had to eliminate that power.
    "What's going on here?"
    My head shot up.
    My captor glared down at us, his usually placid expression showing how unhappy he was. No, not unhappy—a stronger emotion. Pissed. Yeah, he looked very pissed off. I resisted the urge to move away from my escort like some guilty girlfriend caught cheating.
    "Well?” he asked coolly.
    Fuck, Brenna. Say something! Anything!
    Blank.
    When I didn't answer, my escort did, in Arabic.
    A terse conversation ensued. Suddenly, my escort rose to his feet, growled one last thing, and stomped off.
    My captor pinched the bridge of his nose and silently paced in front of me, throwing a funky look in my direction every few seconds.
    I glanced over in the direction my escort had disappeared. “What's wrong with him?"
    "He says I made you cry again."
    Wiping my eyes, I bit my lip to keep from smiling. “Well, you did.” When my captor stopped in mid-stride and looked at me, I regretted my comment. “I'm kidding,” I added.
    "No, you're not."
    "Seriously, I am. I'm fine. I'm better now."
    "You say that often, but it's not true, is it?” he whispered. “I think you want to be fine, but you're not, are you?"
    Thankfully, I caught my tongue before ‘ well, you did kidnap me ’ slipped out. But true to his uncanny ability to read people, I think he knew my thoughts anyway.
    He came over and squatted before me, grasping my hands with his own. His dark eyes grew intense, and his distinct scent filled the air. “I'm sorry that this has been so hard on you. I won't say I regret bringing you here, because honestly, I don't. It goes