Until I Really Do

Chapter Six

Darkness did very little to hide the firm outline of his bare back as he stood shaving by the fireplace. He must think she was asleep, she thought, spellbound by the man before her, even as her eyes trailed down the length of him and her mind memorized every dent in his form; sweat clinging to his finely chiseled muscles that was no doubt carved out of hours of hard work.

It wasn't dawn yet, and she had woken up earlier to the sound of movement. Briefly confused, it had only taken a second to remember where she was, and another, to recognize the man who stood shaving by the fireplace.

Why was he here? Her eyes shifted from one part of the room to the next. Where was Jenkins? She thought, freezing in her attempt to scan the room for him as the stranger turned toward her. Most likely blinded by the darkness, he didn't seem to notice she was awake when he made his way over to the dresser and picked up his shirt from where it hung on the arm of the chair. Shrugging it on, she ignored the slight stab of disappointment in her chest by his actions, and instead slid further down the sheets. She watched him neatly tuck his shirt in, and when he finally made his way out of the room, she was surprised when the sound of the door being locked did not filter back to her.

Utterly confused —both by her environment and by the odd stranger who had walked out a second ago— she waited for a few more seconds before crawling out of the bed and tiptoeing to the door.

Her fingers settled on the cold metal of the knob. Slowly, she twisted it and pulled, a loud gasp drifting from her lips as it gave way before her.

She stood frozen for several seconds, her fingers curling around the knob; why had he left the door open? Jenkins always locked the door. There were even times he tied her hands and locked the door, keeping her prisoner against her will. Was this a trap? Was she being tricked into something sinister?

Her mind immediately wandered to the day before when the strange man had spoon-fed her and stayed by her side until she fell asleep. He was nothing like Jenkins. His touch, as he brushed her hair aside, had not stung. He hadn't laid a hand on her since they met, and his eyes held no hostility in them. If anything, his eyes gave her an odd feeling of safety.

Still, the majority part of her was skeptical, and the part that was afraid of what she knew Jenkins was capable of, forced her to turn back around and crawled back into bed, rather than take the window of escape before her. There was no true way of escape. Even if she could save her own life, it would come at the expense of her father's, and while she was almost certain she hated him, she couldn't stand to see him die; she had already lost one parent. Perhaps she had even lost them both? She seemed like she had, because father never remained the same after her mother's death.

Moaning softly, Sharon was surprised to find the stranger leaning down over her. She glanced around, realizing then that she had fallen asleep, and from the brightness of the sunlight that streamed into the room, she must have been sleeping for a few hours.

"Good morning." His words surprised her; Jenkins would never be so courteous.

Pushing the sheets aside, she sat upright and rubbed her eyes.

"Sorry I woke you up, but the rest of us already had breakfast and I didn't think it would be wise to leave you sleeping until you are forced awake by hunger."

She realized then that he held a tray in his hands.

A frown immediately settled on her face. "Will you tell me who you are and what I'm doing here? Do not think for a second that I will accept your food if you do not give me the answers I need." Her stomach responded with a loud growl. Embarrassed, her lips fell wide open as his eyes shifted briefly to her stomach, and then to her face.

He raised a brow. "I believe the monster you have caged in there," he motioned to her stomach, "thinks otherwise."

She gasped, heat climbing up the side of her neck and setting her entire face on fire.

He shrugged, leaning down and placing the tray on her lap. "Perhaps I must leave you to your meal?" He straightened. "Once that monster is fed, then we will talk. Right now, I am not certain he won't keep interrupting our conversation if he is not fed."

Her face burned some more as she watched him, his eyes twinkled with humor, and while she thought it made him appear even more handsome than she had thought in the past, she hated him for humiliating her in such a manner.

She didn't realize she was holding her breath until she watched him close the door behind him, leaving her alone in the room.

It was several more seconds before she regained control of her breathing, and a second more before she turned her attention to the plate of toast and hot cup of black coffee before her; he was right, she needed to feed the monster in her stomach. But she was never going to tell him that.