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brows climbed.
    “You’re
handcuffing me to the bed?” she asked, glancing at him. “If I’d known this was standard
operating procedure, I would’ve gotten arrested sooner.” To her surprise, the quip
caused a faint red to tint his ears. How adorable was that?
    “I
have to keep my eyes on you, and I need some sleep.”
    The
urge to see the cop get even more embarrassed was too strong to resist. “You
sure you don’t want to keep more than your eyes on me?” Clarissa asked with a
mischievous grin. So he was an FBI agent who believed her to be a criminal,
thought she was lying to him about her memory, but turned red at her teasing
innuendos. He was a bit of a contradiction. How interesting.
    Erik
clenched his jaw, trying to hold on to his temper. He was tired, pissed off at
how this whole thing had gone down, and irritated that he was stuck in the
middle of Nowhere, Colorado, riding out a snowstorm with a woman who looked
more like a college girl wearing her boyfriend’s clothes than a hardened
criminal and murderer.
    “Sit
down,” he ordered.
    She
looked down, then back up at him.
    “Sit,”
he repeated.
    “On
the floor?” she asked, her tone bewildered.
    “Yes,
the floor.”
    O’Connell’s
forehead puckered. “No.”
    Erik’s
eyebrows shot up. “Excuse me? ‘No,’ did you say?”
    “It’s
cold and hard on the floor,” she pouted. “And I’ve been hurt. You shouldn’t
make me sleep on the floor.”
    “The
carpet’s thick; you’ll be fine,” Erik said, ignoring the niggle of guilt in the
back of his mind.
    For
a moment, he didn’t think she was going to do it, which left him wondering how
exactly he would make her, but she finally gave in, sitting down with a dignity
and grace that belied her overlarge clothes. After locking the other handcuff
around the bedpost, he gave it a jerk to make sure it was secure. He was
turning away when he saw a quick wince cross her face. Erik hesitated.
    “You
all right?” he asked before he could think better of it.
    O’Connell
gave a stiff smile of long-suffering that made Erik wonder how many times she’d
had to practice that in front of a mirror.
    “If
it wouldn’t put you out too much for a pillow and blanket?” she asked.
    As
Erik grabbed the requested items, he had a quick flash of what his mother would
say if she saw he was making an injured woman sleep on the floor, handcuffed to
the bed. She wouldn’t care that said woman was wanted by the FBI. Erik grimaced
at the thought of the lecture he’d get.
    “Here,”
he said, depositing the pillow and blanket next to her on the floor. He watched
as she awkwardly struggled to position the pillow with one hand before
arranging the blanket. When her breath caught and she froze, her face draining
of color, Erik’s conscience reared its head.
    Before
he even realized what he was doing, he’d unlocked the handcuff and picked her
up. After depositing her on the bed, he snagged the metal again, quickly
locking it around the iron bars at the head of the bed. They were topped by a
thick piece of wood, making an interesting headboard and a very convenient spot
to cuff O’Connell.
    She
caught his eye and lifted a delicately arched brow. “Is this your side or
mine?”
    “Yours,”
he bit out between clenched teeth. His tone didn’t seem to faze her, the tiny
smile she wore making him want to curse his mother for ingraining chivalry into
his very bones.
    O’Connell
shook the handcuffs, causing an irritating clanging noise, which Erik ignored
as he rounded the bed. It wasn’t a big bed, but she wasn’t that big either, so
it would be fine. He certainly wasn’t going to sleep on the floor.
    “Thank
you, Agent Langston,” she said as he lay back down, keeping a good distance
between them.
    “Whatever,”
Erik sighed, closing his eyes. God, he was tired.
    It
was blessedly quiet for a few moments before, “So where are we?”
    Erik
didn’t bother opening his eyes. “A cabin. In the