Mysterious Vows. Cassie Miles
The overwhelming darkness that she had evaded crept closer.
“No,” she whispered. She would not succumb, would not quit.
First, she needed to get out of this room. If she forced herself through the small opening in the second-story window and dangled from the sill, the drop would still be more than ten feet. Too far. She couldn’t risk injuring herself, making herself even more helpless.
She peered outside. Unfortunately there were no handy trellises or sturdy trees that she could climb down. The vegetation on this windswept, rocky island was sparse. Nowhere to hide.
She tried the door handle again. Could she break the lock? These doors were old, but heavy.
Pick the lock? Maria didn’t recall a background that included that type of talent. She had to think, to use her wits. The bathroom attached to this bedroom had no separate door into the hallway. And the closet?
She pulled open the door and checked that window in case there would be a way to climb down. But there was nothing. Only the wavering sunlight of late afternoon. Soon it would be dusk, then nightfall. Then Jason would come to her room. He had promised dinner. And what else?
The thought of his kisses wakened a new fear within her. He was masterful. He was strong. How could she resist him? And yet, how could she allow herself to be overwhelmed? If she made love to him, she would be more of a captive than before.
Her gaze lifted upward. From the ceiling of the closet a cord dangled from an overhead hatch. She tugged hard on the cord and a ladder descended. There must be additional storage in the attic. And possible escape.
Before climbing up and out of her bedroom prison, she raced to the bedside table and grabbed the pistol.
Chapter Four
“I want to see her,” Alice said, “before I leave.”
“Maria is sleeping,” Jason replied. “She’s exhausted.”
Alice closed the door to his office and confronted him angrily. “I’m going to give you some free advice, dear brother.”
He knew very well that it would do absolutely no good to protest. Jason settled back in the chair behind his desk and braced himself. When Alice had an opinion, it would be stated come hell or high water. “Yes, Alice?”
“Don’t be overprotective of Maria. She’s not an invalid like Elena was. Please, Jason, you must listen to me. I know you adored Elena, but she was a very sick woman. Taking care of her turned you into a recluse.”
Though he didn’t like to hear it, he knew she was right. Elena’s drawn-out death had changed him. Watching her die slowly, unable to help her, had stolen his spirit. After she’d passed away, he had flung himself headlong into his work with the rebels of Guermina. The people of that country had called him courageous. They had not guessed at the truth: he didn’t care if he lived or died. Without Elena, his life was over.
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