Chapter 233
[ 476 words ]
Chapter 233:
She abandoned her tactical training. She stopped acting like a CIA operative and acted like a furious civilian.
She raised her right foot and stomped her heel down as hard as she could directly onto his bare instep.
Jarrod was braced for a martial arts counterattack. He was completely unprepared for a crude, uncoordinated street move.
A sharp spike of pain shot up his foot. He flinched, his grip on her wrists loosening for a fraction of a second.
Caroline ripped her hands free, shoved his chest, ducked under his arm, and scrambled to the opposite side of the massive bed.
𝘙о𝗺a𝗇𝘤𝖾 𝘢𝘯d p𝗮s𝘀𝘪𝗈𝗇 𝗼𝘯 𝘨𝘢𝗅nov𝘦𝗅𝘀.𝖼𝘰𝗆
She grabbed a heavy velvet pillow and held it in front of her chest like a shield, her chest heaving, glaring at him like a cornered cat.
Jarrod looked down at the red mark blooming on his foot. Then he looked up at her defensive, furious posture.
The homicidal tension that had gripped him since he left the desert miraculously evaporated, replaced by a twisted, sick sense of amusement.
He took a slow step toward the bed, looking like a predator with endless patience.
“You are not going to that hospital,” Jarrod declared, his voice dropping into a smooth, dangerous purr. “We have the entire day to burn in this room. Let’s see how long you can hold that pillow.”
The air in the bedroom grew thick and heavy.
Jarrod stalked around the edge of the massive bed. His bare feet made no sound on the carpet. His black eyes were locked onto Caroline, tracking her every movement like a panther cornering a deer.
Caroline backed away, clutching the velvet pillow tight against her chest. Her bare feet slid across the floor until her shoulder blades hit the freezing glass of the floor-to-ceiling window.
She had nowhere left to run.
Jarrod stepped into her personal space. He reached out with his left arm and snatched the pillow from her grip, tossing it carelessly over his shoulder. It hit the floor with a soft thud.
He placed his left hand flat against the cold glass beside her head, his right arm held still at his side. His towering frame caged her completely.
Jarrod lowered his head. His warm, cedar-scented breath washed over the sensitive skin of her neck. The contrast against the freezing windowpane made the fine hairs on Caroline’s arms stand up.
“Where are you going to run now?” Jarrod asked. His voice was a harsh, scraping whisper that sent a shiver straight down her spine.
Caroline’s heart hammered violently against her ribs. She knew physical combat would only feed his adrenaline. She needed to use a different weapon.
She forced her chin up and stared directly into his dark, dilated pupils.
“If you touch me again,” Caroline threatened, her voice shaking but laced with absolute ice, “I will scream at the top of my lungs.”
Jarrod raised a thick, dark eyebrow. A cruel, mocking smile stretched across his bruised face.
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