Chapter Twelve
Stop letting him get to you! Mehoo-Jimmy’s voice lectured as Nina poured the cloudy water down the bathroom sink and stared at herself in the weird digital mirror. He’s not a nice guy, eecho. He admitted it himself—he still wants to hurt you.
Well, at least he wasn’t trying to pretend he was her friend to get her off her guard. Nina respected his honesty despite his blunt admission that he still intended to carry out his plans for her—whatever they were—if he could.
It should put me off. I should hate him—fear him—want nothing to do with him. But the way he smelled, that warm, seductive scent that reminded her of all her dreams…and the way he looked at her when he’d said he liked a woman with a heart-shaped ass…
Snap out of it, Nina! she scolded herself. Remember Ted Bundy. Remember that this guy wants to hurt you, and he will if you give him half a chance. Do not let him get under your skin. And no matter what he says, no matter how interesting or attractive he makes himself, do not under any circumstances uncuff him. No matter what!
She nodded firmly at her reflection in the strange mirror. That was a promise—she wouldn’t let Reddix go even if he begged and pleaded. No matter how good he smelled or how hot he looked or how intriguing she found him, the big Kindred was going to stay right where he was—cuffed to the metal bar in the kitchen.
Nina left the little bathroom filled with resolve…and saw Reddix trying to flex his shoulders and wincing in obvious pain. Immediately, she felt a stab of guilt. Her training as a massage therapist kicked in and she longed to go to work on his broad shoulders where she was sure the muscles must be knotted and aching from the time he’d spent in such an uncomfortable position.
He’s a kidnapper, she reminded herself. And who knows what else. Maybe a murderer or a rapist… But she didn’t really believe that. Reddix had said he had no interest in forcing her, and she was sure he was telling the truth. He didn’t even want her to touch him, let alone do anything else.
He still deserves everything he gets, Nina told herself firmly. She bustled up to the counter, making sure to keep some distance between herself and the big Kindred, and reached for the cabinets.
But she couldn’t keep herself from looking down at him from the corner of her eye. He didn’t say a word, but he was still trying to loosen the muscles in his neck and arms, and the look of pain in his silver eyes hurt Nina. She had never been able to stand seeing anything or anyone in pain. She had too much compassion—too much empathy—to be able to stand idly by while there was suffering she could somehow alleviate. Even if the man who was suffering meant her harm.
“Here,” she said, crouching beside him and reaching for his shoulders.
“What are you going to do?” Reddix drew back, a wary look on his face.
“Just going to loosen you up a little,” Nina said soothingly. “Don’t worry—I can manage without touching your skin.”
Aside from his black flight trousers, he was wearing a long-sleeved shirt and a jacket with a hood, which must have been hell to wear in Florida when he had kidnapped her. Working by feel, Nina pushed her hands under the thick material and found the knotted muscles of his shoulders. Then she went to work.
It was a big job because Reddix was bigger than anyone she’d ever massaged before—and she’d done a few of the Tampa Bay Bucks linemen and a professional wrestler or two in her time. She wondered how big he was standing up. It was hard to estimate given the short time she’d seen him before he grabbed her, but if she had to guess, she would have bet he was six foot seven or eight at least. In other words, huge.
Being this close to him was awkward—his face was only inches from her own—but she did her best to ignore it and keep working. His warm masculine scent invaded her senses, distracting her until she had to close her eyes and force herself to concentrate on easing his tension. Just when she could feel him finally beginning to loosen up, he spoke in that deep, harsh voice of his—the only part of him that wasn’t perfect.
“What are you feeling?”
“What?” It was such a strange question that Nina’s eyes flew open. She realized their faces were even closer—almost close enough to kiss—but Reddix wasn’t pulling away from her. Instead, he was staring at her with a quizzical look in his silver eyes.
“I said, what are you feeling right now?” he repeated. “I can’t tell from looking at you, and I’m still numb so…”
“Numb?” Nina frowned. “Did I pinch a nerve?”
“No, nothing like that.” He shook his head. “I just don’t know why you’re doing this for me. I want to know why.”