She felt like she was wafting in a dream, but not her sexy, delicious, making-love-to-Cody dream, but one where a bad man came in and … what had he done to her? She glanced down at her body, swallowed back the bile when she read the message he’d written on her skin. She wadded the sleeve of her coat and spat on it, then gritted her teeth from the effort it took to try to erase the words. Still unable to resume her normal pattern of breathing, she didn’t hear Cody’s footsteps until he was back in the room, standing at the door with a wild look in his eyes. Her heart could not handle much more of this, but even now, it responded to his utter virility by giving a vigorous kick. He stood there, all ripped, marked, and pissed, and she realized in the working part of her brain that she had never seen him so enraged. He might not be pacing, or ranting, but that was not how Cody raged. No. Control was his weapon, and he never lost it. Jaw so tight she feared it would crack under the pressure, he surveyed the room as though for clues.
