He wouldn’t do anything with all those people downstairs, would he? She wet her lips. “Hello, Richard.”
He pushed himself off the bed and walked toward her, stopping directly in front of her. Her mind screamed to run, but her legs wouldn’t listen. He brushed some hair off her face, and she tried desperately not to flinch or let her face betray the depth of her revulsion. “Rikard,” he said, not bothering to mask his accent. “My name is Rikard Šabalj.”
Panic made it hard to comprehend what he said. “I don’t understand,” she said around the driest mouth she’d ever had. “What is that accent?”
“I’m from Serbia.” He reached out and picked up a strand of her hair. “My home is on the beautiful blue Danube River.”
Keep him talking, she thought. Make Jen come find us. “I don’t know where that is
