Chapter 11: Tell Me Your Name

She jerked the towel off her head, grabbed her wet hair into a thick bunch in her hand, and pulled. His gaze fixed on her hair. She'd caught him staring at her hair every now and then, though she couldn't figure out why.

How could she make him understand she'd reacted on instinct when she hit him? Surely if he realized she'd only done it in self-defense, all would be forgiven. She hoped.

"You have to understand, I acted without thinking."

When he still didn't answer her, she scuffed her boot against the stone floor. Would it kill him to at least try to communicate? To tell her his name?

Slowly, almost lazily, he turned his head. She jumped back when he moved his arms again, as if trying to get his hands off the hook. His biceps flexed as he pulled against the hook and dangerous, overdeveloped muscles rippled in his forearms.