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boy.
    I yanked up the covers and looked down at my body as if I could identify evidence of . . . well. Sex .
    My eyes burned, tears prickling the back of my throat. My last memory was of sitting in his truck. And— God— I had licked his throat. What happened after that?
    My body looked the same as it always did. Slightly flaring hips that just barely saved me from looking like an eleven-year-old boy. Less than impressive breasts. Skin too pale, but bearing no marks. Still, I was hardly satisfied. I wriggled around, trying to detect any difference, any physical sensation that might reveal the effects of last night’s activities. I mean I would know if had sex. Right? Tears pressed hotter against the backs of my eyes as the possibility sank in that maybe I had and didn’t even know it. God . I was trapped in an episode of 60 Minutes .
    This shouldn’t have happened. I shouldn’t be here.
    My flight instinct kicked in. I needed to get out of here. I scanned the room, looking for my clothes. Bare wood walls stared back at me. I was in a single room, large and airy despite the darkness of the walls. Light streamed in from several windows in the kitchen area. A pair of double glass doors to the left of the bed granted me a marginal view of the outside world. I glimpsed blue skies and snow-draped ground. Morning light glinted off the bare, ice-crusted branches of a large tree just beyond this door.
    Silence shrouded me. Only the faint hum of the heater purred softly on the still air. It was as though I were the only person left on the planet. Definitely the only person in this house. Where was Shaw? Off abducting another girl?
    An overstuffed armchair sat near a fireplace where logs smoldered and flickered red-gold. My clothes were draped across that chair. Spread out almost neatly.
    Wrapping the blanket around my body, I hopped to my feet. The sudden movement made my head spin. I swayed, pressing a palm to the side of my face, as though that could stop the tiny hammers beating at my temples. Instantly I vowed never to drink again. As in never. True, I’ve made this vow before, but this time I meant it.
    I scurried toward the chair, nearly tripping over the blanket dragging at my feet. With a grunt, I grabbed it and whipped the fabric up and over my arm. When I reached the chair, I looked around furtively and dropped the blanket. Snatching up my clothes, I dressed as quickly as I could. Sinking down into the plush chair, I worked one boot on my foot. I was reaching for the next one when the sound of thuds reached my ears.
    I froze, my pulse jacknifing against my throat. Everything slowed as those footsteps grew louder, closer, putting a swift end to the otherworldly silence. The door pushed open and Shaw stepped inside the space. Several logs overflowed in his arms. His gaze immediately landed on me. He paused in the threshold. I watched him, immobilized, feeling like a hare caught in the sights of a predator.
    Then he moved, kicking the door shut behind him with one booted foot. His big body strode across the cabin and I resisted backing away. He stopped and squatted before the fireplace. “You’re up.”
    I watched as he started stacking wood into a box beside the fireplace. He didn’t glance at me as I sat there, still frozen, fingers curled tightly around the edges of my boot.
    I moistened my lips, trying to find my voice as I watched his arms pull and flex beneath a long-sleeved thermal shirt. A light coating of snow dusted his dark hair and shoulders.
    The ability to speak finally returned. “What did you do to me?”
    He stopped stacking wood, his gaze flying to my face. I sucked in a breath. Everything about him right then, in the full light of morning, was more . More good looking. More masculine. His eyes brighter, more vivid. The fact that he looked pissed didn’t alter the impact in the least. But it made my stomach knot. I squirmed inside at the intensity of his stare.
    “I didn’t do anything to you