“Tough day?” I ask, placing the book down on my lap, deciding to start a discussion. I’m excited to see him, to spend more time with him. To learn more about the man who has locked me in his house with no release date in sight. I have been here for a few days now, and with no idea how long I am here for, or what he is going to do with me, I might as well try to get to know the man who watches me sleep every night. He looks at me for a few moments before he answers, and I think back to the way he touched me yesterday, wondering if it will happen again.

“What are you reading?” he asks, expertly dodging my question, which makes me smile. I don’t particularly want to know what he gets up to when he is out, but clearly what he does will only be discussed on a need-to-know basis, and we are not at that base as yet.

“I found this in your library. I hope you don’t mind?” I show him the front cover, suddenly not sure if taking one of his books is something I am allowed to do.

“Ahhh… Sicily. Have you been?” His eyes light up at the topic, and he watches me intently, already knowing the answer as he takes a sip of the amber liquid.

“No, but it looks amazing. Tranquil. Colorful. Relaxing…” My voice wanders off as I get lost in the images on the pages again.

“It is all of those things,” he says as he leans his body back into what is his usual sitting position, head back, eyes focused on me, shoulders relaxed, legs apart. I wonder what it would feel like if I were to curl up on his lap? The safety, security, and comfort he may offer to a dying small town girl like me...

“Tell me about it?” I put the book to the side and snuggle into the blankets, placing my head on the pillow as I look at him expectantly.

“The blue of the water is unmatched to anything I have ever seen before. The fresh summer breeze has the most delectable scent, and the sound of the water lapping on the cliffs is what lullabies are made of. It is a place that I love. I grew up there.” His lips now form a small grin as he reminisces.

“It sounds so beautiful. Do you go back much?” I ask, my eyes growing heavy, but wanting to hear his story.

“Not as much as I would like. I would like to be back there permanently, but my work and family are here,” he says, taking another sip of his whiskey, and I nod in understanding.