by Lilly Holden
“Why the hell should I make anything easier for you?”
“Good thing you have no vote, Princess.” He let go of me with one arm long enough to reach into the side compartment of his passenger door, lifting his hand back up with something resembling a tiny injection.
I screamed, striking out at him with my free hand, but I may as well have been swatting at a fly. He used his body to force me sideways on the back seat.
I tried kicking but he was too heavy, my legs hardly moving against the car seat.
“No, please, don’t do this.” I wasn’t above begging. Maybe I could delay him enough to offer him money, anything to get out of this fucking car.
“I promise, Paige, you have nothing to fear,” Alex said against my ear seconds before I felt a sharp sting to my neck.
I sobbed, clawing at the material of his shirt. “Please, please, let me go.” Lifting my hand to push against him, my arm fell back. Everything felt…heavy. I couldn’t focus properly. “Wha…” I swallowed and tried again. “Whazz happ’nen…”
“Hush.” Alex brushed back the hair from my face and studied me.
What was he seeing, thinking? Was he deciding whether to kill me?
I wanted to scream again, but I couldn’t…think. I mean, I wanted to, um, fight, but…everything was falling.
I was falling.
“Close your eyes,” Alex soothed.
I didn’t want to. God, I tried so hard to keep them open, but Alex won out.
I wondered at the flash of concern in his gaze before my eyes drifted shut.
Why would he care what happened to me?
3
Ryder
Snow hit the windshield, the wipers working double-time as I drove my double-cab truck past the town of Evergreen and headed up higher into the mountains. Good thing our cabin, one of a slew Lance owned in the Rockies, was only another fifteen minutes away.
Earlier in the day, Lance had arranged for the two room cabin to be ready for our arrival, including stocked with firewood and enough food and other items to last us a good two weeks if necessary.
God help both my reluctant guest and me if that proved the case.
I glanced in the rearview mirror. Paige was lying on the cab’s back seat, still deep under the power of the drug I’d injected her with. A perk of working with various government agencies was the new items they occasionally shared with us. This drug was designed to give minimum side-effects, but put the recipient into a deep sleep for a number of hours.
Long enough for me to get Paige settled without drama.
Not that she was in any position to argue. During the transfer from the town car Eli had driven, I’d wrapped Paige up in a large soft blanket. But not before cuffing her hands behind her back. I had learned as a SEAL not to take unnecessary risks. After seeing her panic before I sent her to dreamland, I had no desire to have her wake early while in the back of my truck.
Right now she was warm and as comfortable as possible with the seatbelts harnessing her in snug so she didn’t roll off onto the cab’s floor.
I sighed as I concentrated on driving, pushing thoughts of Paige out of my head as the winding roads and reduced visibility made travelling hazardous. By the time I pulled off the private road and parked the truck in the garage next to the cabin, I was ready to call it a night. The garage was a bonus, and though it had a manual door instead of an automatic, the space protected my truck from the elements, at least allowing me not to have to de-ice the windshield whenever I needed to drive. It also housed a small snow blower and various tools needed to maintain the cabin and surrounding area.
I climbed out of the truck, opened the back passenger door, and collected my sleeping beauty. Her pale face looked relaxed, soft in her slumber. Long blonde curls surrounded her face, giving her, in that moment, an almost princess-like fragility that had my protective instincts firing through me with the force of the adrenaline rush I’d get right before a HALO jump at thirty-thousand feet.
Princess. The name I’d used earlier for her in the town car.
Holding her against my chest as I walked the thirty feet to the cabin’s front porch, I didn’t question my need to ensure I didn’t hurt Paige.
I may not have wanted this assignment, but that didn’t mean I wouldn’t take proper care of my charge. Paige had been genuinely frightened in the car. I wanted her compliant, not terrified. People who experienced terror felt they had nothing to lose and took risks.
When it came to someone in my care,—a woman, Paige—that scenario was unacceptable.
A gust of icy wind hit us as I adjusted my hold on Paige to open the cabin’s door. Warmth greeted us as I stepped inside. The low light of the open fire guided my way as I walked past a two-seater sofa and headed to the queen-sized bed on the far side of the room. Lowering Paige onto the bed, I turned back and closed the cabin door, bolting it at the top. The metal bolt was a good seven and a half feet from the cabin’s floor.
Too high for someone of Paige’s height to reach easily.
Back at the bed, I carefully unwrapped Paige from the blanket, noting she still seemed deep in sleep, her breathing nice and even.
I debated cuffing her wrists in front, but decided I’d leave her like this while I checked the cabin out. For now, I removed her shoes and went over to a large navy duffel bag. Lance had asked one of the women on the admin team to buy a list of assorted clothing in what I guessed were her sizes after viewing her in various videos on social media sites. Opening the bag I pulled out one of the pairs of thick socks I’d ordered. At the top of the bag was the typed list of clothing and other items I had requested for Paige, including general grooming. Each item was checked off.
Deke, being the supreme confident asshole he was, had stated he was an expert in the kind of items Paige would need. His knowledge came from the three months he’d spent living with Sophie. Who was I to argue?
After fifteen minutes of the two of us searching websites for lotions, creams and something called LipSense, I was ready to use lethal force on my team mate.
In my desperation not to make Noah fatherless and therefore spare Deke’s life, I called Sophie. A few minutes later, she’d emailed me a list. Lesson learned. Never assume any man has any idea about anything when it comes to female personal grooming. Just ask a damn woman.
Returning to Paige, I slid the soft pink woolen socks over her feet, adjusted her so she was lying on her side, and tucked the comforter up over her shoulder and under her chin.
With her settled for at least the short while, I turned and surveyed the cabin in detail.
The cabin had power and water, with a back-up generator near the garage. The inside layout was basic. One large room, its walls left bare showing the chinking between each log. Windows on either side and along the front wall would give good natural light during the day; now they were covered with curtains in a red, beige and brown western design. The room was divided up into three areas. On the right side sat the bed and the left a sofa and a deep arm chair in front of the stone fireplace. Against part of the back wall was a long counter with wooden cabinets underneath and a space in the middle for the sink. A fridge was between the counter and the left side wall. Two rows of shelving were above the counter and held various dishes, cups and bowls, plus a couple of pans, saucepans, a coffee pot and a large jug holding various cooking utensils. In other words…the basics.
Between the fridge and the rock fireplace stood a wood stove. Back on the right side of the room and off the back wall near the bed was another doorway. This I’d been told led off to a bathroom with a shower and toilet.
Not a ski lodge by any means, but no simple shack either.
I guessed Lance had chosen this cabin from the four he owned in the Rockies because of its isolation and the fact there was nowhere inside the cabin for Paige to hide. Whatever she had to work through over the next ten days while in my company, it would happen in front of me.
“That should be fun,” I muttered to mysel
f as I shoved a couple of logs onto the glowing coals of the fire.
Lance was planning to visit after a couple of days, giving Paige time to adjust to her confinement and for us to see if she had any lasting chemical issues to wean from her system.
But, after tonight, I wasn’t sure drugs were even a possible concern. I was more than a little intrigued by the Paige Monroe I met tonight.
She wasn’t the woman I’d been expecting.
Far from it, in fact.
I stood, grabbed the duffel containing my personal gear, and walked over to the bed, staring down at my captive.
Where was the party girl I’d spent a good portion of the afternoon reading about online? As for drugs, all I’d seen were a couple of Tylenol and what looked like other brand-name tablets. The fact Eli and I had engineered the “collision” at the bar that knocked her medications on the floor was only because I didn’t want any complications with the drug we’d planned on using in the car.
Even her drink was a club soda. Yes, she said she was suffering from a headache, but a person popping uppers and downers would medicate with something strong enough to remove the hassle of a headache.
She had been polite in a natural way, not like she was putting on a show when she’d said please and thank you to the bar staff and myself. Again, no haughty precious attitude.
What was good old Uncle Felix talking about? Was there something deeper going on with Paige that would trigger her to act out, something her Uncle had witnessed but I had yet to see?
As I sat on the bed and removed my shoes, I wondered which Paige I’d discover in the morning. Reaching into my duffel I pulled out a long-sleeved Henley and jeans. Changing from the clothes I’d worn at Nitro, I was more comfortable. Going without the jeans would have been better, but I doubted Paige would see it that way.
I smiled to myself. Tonight the drawn look on her face was evidence she’d been suffering from a painful headache. Not up to fighting standard. Maybe tomorrow she’d be full of spit and venom.
With a sigh, I pulled back the comforter and picked up the key to her cuffs I’d left on the nightstand next to the bed. I unlocked one cuff and settled her arms in front of her, then re-cuffed her wrists. I was a light sleeper, used to catching whatever downtime I could on missions. Whenever she woke up, I’d know. I lay on my back next to her, adjusted the comforter over us and closed my eyes.
I let myself drift off to the sounds of the logs crackling in the fireplace. All I needed was a couple of hours rest before I discovered which Paige I had on my hands. Either one, I was up for the challenge.
The moment I sensed movement, I opened my eyes and without making a sound, flicked my gaze to Paige. She was trying to rise from the bed, her cuffed wrists in front of her, facing the cabin’s back wall. Judging from the faint light peeking through the edge of the curtains it was early morning.
“How’s that headache, Princess?”
Paige swung back to look over her shoulder, her mouth open in shock before turning back and springing from the bed.
Show time.
I jumped up and was around the bed before Paige could get anywhere near the front door.
She launched herself at me, banging her fists against my chest, aiming kicks at my shins, one landing with a sharp burn of discomfort.
“Ooowww,” she cried, a reminder that she wasn’t wearing shoes and kicking someone hurt the aggressor just as much. She glared at me, as if her pain was my fault. But still she kept up with the blows from her fists, even as her breathing got louder with her exertions.
I had to give her points for effort, but one tiny woman never stood a chance against a Navy SEAL.
Besides, she could end up really hurting herself.
“You stinking, slimy, piece of shit, let me go!”
“Not a chance.” Swinging her up in my arms, I carried her, legs kicking, insults flying, back to bed. Setting her down, I lay on top of her, letting my body weight hold her still against the mattress and crush whatever residual fight was left in her.
“I”—she gasped—“can’t breathe.”
“Are you going to play nice and hear me out?”
She panted underneath me and glared back, stubborn to the last moment before she cried out her surrender “Yes.”
Moving slowly and giving her a mindful look, I rested most of my weight on one forearm, but kept enough on her so she was stuck underneath me.
And she wasn’t the only one suffering.
All that heavy breathing on her part had her chest rising and falling rapidly, pressing her breasts against me. Damn, she was a good fit under me too. Soft, curvy. All golden hair splayed out on the bed, eyes flashing with determination to fight me no matter what.
And that mouth, her lips pressed together in a stubborn line.
I wanted to trace over it with my tongue, kiss each corner, then her jawline, the skin near her earlobe. I wanted to taste her. There. And between her legs.
“Well?”
Her strident rebuke was like a slap in the face.
Fuck. Get your head in the game, asshole.
I pulled her cuffed wrists above her head and held them there, pressed into the pillow.
Watching her give a small swallow at finding herself in this new, more vulnerable potion was like a soft kiss to my cock.
Better.
Now we could begin.
4
Paige
I held my breath, not daring to move. Alex wouldn’t hurt me, would he? God, stupid question. He’s kidnapped me, for crying out loud. And the first chance I had to try to convince him to let me go, I’d lashed out in foolish anger.
But that had been nervous energy, fear over rational decision. Because when faced with a dangerous male, we should all try to be rational, right?
Okay, so I had to play along. Let him think he was in charge. I’d only had seconds to look around what looked like a cabin after I’d woken. The room seemed small enough, but I was nowhere near that door.
That door was my goal.
My chance to get out of here alive.
“Paige, look at me,” he ordered, his voice deep and gravelly.
I took in a couple of quick breaths and lifted my gaze to his face. I’d expected to see anger, a frown at least, but his expression was more inscrutable, his gaze watchful, as if determining my next move and not giving any clues to his own by way of showing any clear emotion.
“My name is Ryder Nolan and I work for Lance Marshall. He ordered your kidnapping and confinement here for the next ten days.”
I felt my mouth slacken. Whatever I expected to hear, it was not close to what Alex—no, Ryder—said.
“Lance ordered this?” I whispered. This didn’t make sense. I mean, why would—“I don’t understand.”
“He’s concerned about you.” Ryder tilted his head slightly to the side. “Both he and your uncle think you need time and isolation to think about what you want in life, how you can use the opportunities given to you to give you purpose.” His voice hardened just a fraction. “And being here gives you the chance to break free of people who are a bad influence.”
I shook my head a little. Lance and my Uncle wanted me to straighten myself out? I stared up at Ryder. A jumble of thoughts rushed through my mind, each fighting for prominence.
Nevertheless, his last words won the day. Break free of people who are a bad influence?
Lance wouldn’t know many of the people I hung around with. But Uncle Felix?
That would only mean one person.
“James. You’re talking about James.”
Ryder simply gazed back with the same enigmatic expression. Revealing nothing. “Among others.”
“Oh, no. He means James. Uncle Felix hates him.”
Screw my uncle. And the rest of them.
“Look, I realize you’re just doing your job, crappy though it is to go out and kidnap women so grown men can fulfill some dormant rescue fantasy they’ve conjured up, but I’m not in any danger.”
Ryder lifted one brow. Such was his faith in my ability to govern my life.
I breathed deep, focusing on expelling the need to scream as I exhaled. My goal was getting out of this damn cabin. Anger wouldn’t help. He’d just think I was being irrational.
“Did Uncle Felix approach Lance?”
Ryder waited a moment before answering. “Yes.”
That made sense. I couldn’t see Lance Marshall, bad ass and the man my father said I could turn to if I ever needed anything, making such a giant leap.
“What did he say that convinced Lance I needed rescuing?”
“Plenty. But we’ll start to two easy examples. Last week you were found sleeping in the foyer of your penthouse and were so drunk and out of it your maid had to get the building management to carry you to your bedroom.”
“I’d been up nearly two days helping a friend get over the break-up of her marriage. She was drunk. I was exhausted. Yes, I’d had a bit to drink, but the stench from the alcohol everyone assumed I’d drunk was because Annalise spilt two drinks over my top.” Ones filled with rum to be exact. Hell, I didn’t even drink rum.
Jesus, when would people let up about that morning?
“And three days before that you were stranded in St. Moritz when you lost your passport during a game of strip poker with low level European royalty. The same royalty who ended up fleeing the hotel and leaving you to foot the bill for their ten-thousand Swiss francs a night room for five nights.”
“It wasn’t strip poker, but Texas-hold ’Em. And I didn’t lose my passport in a bet, I simply misplaced it while unpacking. As for the Eurotrash, yeah, I got caught.” And it had stung. I wasn’t romantically inclined to either guy, but liked their company. They had decided to get as much out of me as they could since a relationship wasn’t in the cards. I’d signed a couple of extra pieces of paper when I checked in, having been partying with the guys in Zermatt days earlier and thought an extra few days skiing and relaxing before returning home would be fun. “I paid their bill from embarrassment of being played so easily.”