“About as many times as I have to tell you that I-don’t-believe-you.” His look darkened. “I want the truth.”

He was sick in the head, plain and simple. What other explanation could there be? She had told him the truth. How many times now? Six? Seven? Did it matter? The man was no closer to believer her now than he had before. What more could she do to convince him? And why the hell did this have to be the first time in his life that Luke did what she’d told him to do!

“Look, mister, it’s getting late and I’m tired. I still have a lot to do, and if you don’t let me out of here pretty soon I’ll—” What? Break the door down? She had already tried. The result had been the same as screaming her head off—fruitless. Spinning on her heel, she glared into that narrowed gaze. “All right, you want the truth? You really want the truth? Fine, I’ll tell you. If you must know, the man who sent me is named Bart Bennett.” Her hands rose, then fell and slapped her thighs helplessly. “There, does that make you happy?”

The golden brow knit in a frown as he ran a palm over the bristle of stubble coating his chin. All the while, he gazed at her thoughtfully. “Bart Bennett?” he squinted, shaking his head and searching his memory. “Never heard of him.”

Hope sighed in disgust. “Somehow, that doesn’t surprise me either, considering he sent me here to meet someone else. Now, I told you what you wanted to know and you agreed to unlock the door in return.” She waited patiently, but the man made no attempt to move. “Well? Are you going to let me out of this dump or are we going to stand here and argue all night?”

“Who the hell is Bart Bennett?” he demanded, ignoring her last comment entirely.

“My father.” She bit down hard on the inside of her cheek to keep from screaming. Good God, the man’s skull was thick. At this rate she’d be lucky to get out of here before dawn! “Now will you please unlock the door?”

In one long stride, he closed the distance between them. Hope stiffened, refusing to be intimidated by that bullying glare, even when his fingers bit painfully into her shoulders.

“That does it,” he barked angrily. “I want the truth and I want it now or so help me I’ll—”

“Do what?” she taunted, lifting her chin with a courage she did not feel. “Take me over your knee? I’m a little too big for that, don’t you think?”

“No, I don’t!”

The loudness of his voice echoing in her hears did nothing to alleviate the throbbing that was quickly returning to her temples. It did, however, intricately combine with the strength in his fingers and the anger shimmering in his eyes to effectively bring home the vulnerability of her position here. The man was quickly losing what little restraint he had. If he kept goading her, and she kept responding, God only knew what would happen.

I have to get out of here, she thought wildly, and I have to get out of here quick! Desperation made her act impulsively, in the only way Hope knew how. The man held her shoulders, but not her arms. Her lips curled into a cold smile as she did something she’d been longing to do since she had first opened her eyes. She didn’t just slap that arrogant face, she balled up her fist, pooled all of her anger into her hand, and punched him as hard as she possible could. The force of the blow made his head snap back. His hands instantly released her shoulders.

Skillfully, she lifted the key from the man’s pocket before he could utter his first grunt of pain. By the time he had reached out a hand to steady his balance against the wall, shaking his head to clear it, she had the door unlocked.

Throwing it wide, she allowed herself a small, heady giggle of triumph. Her giggle turned into a full-fledged laugh when she saw the towering form of her brother standing with his hand poised mid-knock.

If Luke Bennett had been a smaller man, he might have been sent tumbling backward at the force of his sister flinging herself into his arms. But he wasn’t, and Luke didn’t so much stagger as he accepted her weight and wrapped a large arm around her shoulder. Confused, he looked down at the top of his sister’s head as it nestled into his shoulder, then let his gaze scan the room as he stroked the silky mane of chestnut hair.

The sight of the ugly bruise quickly beginning to swell on the blond man’s jaw told Luke all he needed to know. His own deep, rumbling chuckle joined his sister’s as he asked, “I guess he said no, huh?”

Tags: Rebecca Sinclair Historical
Source: readsnovelonline.net