The Groom's Stand-In

“I’ll give it a try when I think it’s safe to do so.”

“And when will that be?”

He glanced toward the little window, which was so dirty that the light from outside barely penetrated it. “Later.”

Was he waiting for nighttime? How many more hours would that be? It had been about four-thirty when they’d left the diner. She estimated that they’d traveled for more than an hour in the van, and then perhaps another half hour had passed while she’d waited for Donovan to wake up. It would be dark soon, but she wasn’t sure how much longer she could sit here, bound at the wrist, waiting in dread for that closed door to creak open. It had to be worse for Donovan, flat on his back with his arms fastened over his head.

“Maybe we should try now, while we’re alone in here. Maybe they assume you’re still unconscious. Maybe we could get out through the window before they realize we’ve gotten free.”

“And maybe someone would come in while I’m fumbling with the cuffs and take away the only potential tool we have. I didn’t say I could pick the lock. I only said I would try. Even if I succeed, it could take a while.”

She had to acknowledge his point, as well as the need for caution, but she hated the thought of spending hours here. In frustration, she tugged at the cuff that held her, growing suddenly claustrophobic against the confinement. The only result was the noisy ring of steel against iron, and a stab of pain in her abused wrist.

“Chloe—relax.”

“Relax?” She stared at his impassive face in disbelief. “How am I supposed to relax under these circumstances?”

“We haven’t been harmed. We’re being left alone. There’s no reason to panic.”

“Yet,” she muttered grimly.

“Don’t let your imagination run away with you. No threats have been made against us. These are just common thugs looking to make some quick money. Criminal types aren’t overly bright, and they almost always make stupid mistakes. We’ll wait until they make one with us, and then we’ll take advantage of it.?

?

“You make it sound so simple. How do you know they will make a mistake? How do you know they aren’t planning to take the money and then kill us? They let me see their faces.” She hated the tremor in her voice, the fear she couldn’t hide. Especially since Donovan seemed so unnaturally calm and controlled.

But when she looked into his eyes, she saw that he wasn’t as controlled as she had believed. His usually cool green eyes were a dark emerald now, gleaming with an anger so hot she could almost feel the warmth. She’d thought his face was expressionless; now, she saw that the muscles beneath his taut skin were tensed into a steely mask. No, most definitely, he was not calm.

“They aren’t going to hurt you,” he vowed, his voice a low growl.

She sat back on her heels for a moment to study him. Beneath her hand, his heart continued to beat steadily, but the pounding seemed a bit faster now. Stronger. “Tell me what you want me to do,” she said simply, literally placing her life in his hands.

“Just stay calm and let me handle things now. I’ll keep you safe.”

Her gaze still locked with his, she moistened her lips and nodded. “Thank you.”

He was the one who looked away first. “Bryan’s counting on me to watch out for you,” he said gruffly.

She swallowed and took her hand off his chest. “This is more than you signed on for when you agreed to ‘babysit’ for a few hours, isn’t it?”

“As I said—I didn’t expect this at all. If I had, I wouldn’t have been caught off guard, not even for a moment. As for the babysitting crack—well, don’t take that personally.”

Studying his uncomfortable position, and the dark circles under his eyes that were so noticeable, she knew she couldn’t hold a grudge now. “Don’t worry about it,” she said. “I’m sure you were frustrated because you were being kept from your work for so long.”

“That’s one explanation,” he muttered.

Before she could ask for clarification, the doorknob turned and the door opened. Instinctively, Chloe moved closer to Donovan—though she couldn’t have said whether it was to seek protection or to offer it.

The man who walked in was the smallest of the three who had blindsided them. Dark-haired, dark-eyed, his narrow face half covered with a sparse, patchy beard, he walked with a hunch-shouldered shuffle and spoke with a smoker’s raspiness. “Y’all need some water or something?”

“We need the keys to these cuffs,” Donovan retorted, rattling his restraints.

Their captor gave him a remonstrative look. “Let’s not waste time with irrelevancies.”

“I would say letting us go is very relevant to your welfare.”

Though it was exactly what she had expected, Chloe wished Donovan wouldn’t challenge the other man quite so aggressively. It wasn’t as if he could defend himself in his current position. Fortunately—at least in her opinion—the other man didn’t allow himself to be baited. He looked instead at Chloe, pointedly ignoring Donovan. “Are you comfortable? Is there anything you need?”