The nerve! And what a devilish grin he’s sporting. My eyes tighten in a heated glare. “Well, who was it, then?”
He pointedly ignores the question and places a “cuppa” tea in front of me. I watch him ignite the gas burners before casually whisking eggs.
He bares his perfect white teeth at me as he asks over his shoulder, “You fancy an omelet this morning then, petal?”
Do not fall for his mind games … or magnetic charm! Aren’t kidnap victims supposed to lose their appetites? No, I’m simply lusting after him. That’s all it is and it can—and will—be overcome.
“I suppose an omelet will do.” I cross my arms in defiance as I watch him set a pan on the gas range.
“Spirited,” he chuckles, shaking his head. He adds olives, tomatoes, green onions, and cheese to the pan. The smell is too tempting to ignore.
Minutes later a scrumptious-looking garden omelet, complete with a buttered English muffin, is placed in front of me. I look up through my lashes and say in a huff, “Thanks, Judge. So kind of you to feed me.”
Ignoring my sassy comment, he takes a seat on the stool next to mine, and before he touches his meal, he turns to look at me, leaning forward on a tanned, sculpted forearm. “Listen, petal, I realize that you’ve had a hard time of it these last two days and I feel like now is the time to give you the explanation you deserve.”
My body goes rigid as I wait expectantly.
“See, after catching your eye in old Gentry’s, I met up with my best mate at Dingo’s. He happens to live near the place. He was the person I was with that night. Do you remember my massive Maori mate from the bar?”
“Yes, I’m remember.”
“Well, I told Tane how taken I was with this tourist I saw in Gentry’s. I told him that you were on some kind of camping trip. I saw your loaded cruisers out front.”
I want to ask him where all this is going, but instead I decide to hear him out.
“Tane was quite curious about you, and well, imagine my shock when you of all the women on the planet walked into Dingo’s in Kaikoura. Fucking unreal it was. Tane nearly spit his pint across the bar at the flabbergasted look on my face when you strolled in looking sexier than any supermodel.” His voice drops a few octaves, sounding dark and raspy. “And goddamn, woman, when you sang that seductive song I nearly exploded in my jeans.” The way he says it, he might be sharing a torrid secret between us.
I can’t hide a small smile as I swirl the silver spoon in the white teacup.
“I told Tane after you left so abruptly that I’d give every last fucking dime in my accounts to have you beneath me in my bed. Not long after you left, we sculled our pints and took off, going our separate ways. I drove straight through to get here. I’m on vacation for the week and was looking forward to a little downtime.
“I assumed he was heading home as well, but Tane took it upon himself, being the badass that he is, to drive over to your beachside campground. That’s where he watched your group. When all was clear, he nicked you for me.”
I strangle the napkin resting in my lap. “What?” I choke out to him. “Why would he do that?”
“He owed me a favor.”
With difficulty, I keep my jaw screwed shut as he continues his explanation.
“So anyhow, I’d just drifted off on the sofa when he rang me up late in the night, saying it was an emergency that he needed my help. He asked me to meet him at a small petrol station not far off the mountain. I had no clue what he was on about or what he was doing so close to my house. As I drove down off the mountain to meet him, I worried that he’d gotten in an accident or something. When I arrived, imagine my surprise when he shined his torch into the back of his SUV and I saw you lying there like an angel wrapped up in a load of blankets. I thought that he had gone mad. I mean, Valla, he had driven you across the South Island to deliver you to me. Fuck me, he asked if he had the right girl and I could barely answer him, I was so bloody shocked. I told him that I appreciated the gesture but that there was no way I could take you up to my place—that he needed to get you back to your group. Well, he looked positively gutted. The guy really thinks that he owes me a solid for what I did for him ages ago.”
“But why would he go to such extremes? Kidnapping is a crime, regardless of what soil you’re on in this world. And why didn’t you just take me back yourself?”
“He told me that he just wanted to see me happy and that you were just as hot for me as I was for you. How could I let him down after that? I admit I was fucking bothered when I saw how drugged up you were. I agreed to drive you to my place and get this all sorted out. Partly because I didn’t want you in the back of his truck any longer. I have to admit that I was intrigued. I want you, Valla. And I’ll let you in on a little secret, petal. I’m a determined man.”
By this point my head is reeling. So I was meant as a gift? What sort of crazy people am I dealing with here? Even though a part of me craves the fantasy, the logical part of my brain rebels. Despite what I thought last night, I’m really not certain I’m ready for any of this.
As all the confusion begins to meld into a concrete story, I decide to cut to the chase and give him an easy out. “All right, Judge. Just drive me to the closest hotel or gas station or wherever and let me go. I have to get out of here and I promise you from the bottom of my heart that I won’t tell a soul about you or your friend, Tane, and what he did. You can trust that I’m good on my word.” I level him with an earnest look.
I wait, nearly holding my breath, hoping that he will agree with me. He wasn’t my original kidnapper, after all, and he seems like a together guy for the most part.
But I’m dead wrong. That intimidating stare begins to turn stormy and serious as he leans closer, his left shoulder touching my sweater as he tells me in an unyielding tone, “No, woman, we certainly won’t be doing that. See, while you were knocked out, I had a lot of time to think. I’m not about to give you up until I’m fucking good and ready. Now eat.” He stabs his fork in the direction of my plate as he gets up to pour more tea for both of us.
I stare at his huge back in complete disbelief. No! I have to make him realize how crazy his idea of keeping me really is. I have got to get the hell out of this tangled mess.
Rolling his neck, he seems to be trying to throw off some of his tension. He faces me and braces his wide arms out on the counter before him. Speaking softer now he says, “Tell you what. You finish up your brekkie like a good girl and we’ll head on outside together for some fresh air. We both could use a little distraction from all this, eh?”
“No. You can’t keep me against my will. It’s kidnapping. Not to mention irrational and insane.” I’m not going to give in so easily.
His shoulders and neck tense up as he pins me with a cold, accusatory stare. “I recall that you point blank told me back at Dingo’s that you needed guidance and asked me if I was the man to give it to you. Was I wrong, female?” He pins me with a stern, knowing glare.
Is he off his meds? I sputter, “I was just flirting with you! People do that, you know!” Never mind that. At the time, I had meant every single word. This just wasn’t how I pictured it ….
“You can try to lie to yourself, petal, and I might even believe you if it wasn’t for the erotic way you sang that song to me. You know good and well that if we were the only two people in that bar, then the second the mic left your lips I would have taken you down and fucked the breath out of you right on that fucking stage, woman.”
“You-you would have what?” My eyes are as wide as saucers.
“You heard me, petal, and you would have taken it with complete gratitude as well.”
He waits, watching. This is a challenge and I can’t win. I can’t hide or deny my lust. He already knows. I remain silent because it’s asinine to argue a valid point.
He grunts out in a manly tone, “Thought so. Finish your omelet and let’s get a move on, petal. I need a distraction. I’m doing my best to be a gentleman, but you know how to
push my buttons, girl.”
“Ah, I don’t have coat and it seems like it’s freezing out there. You know, with the falling snow and all.”
“I have a coat that you can use.”
Wait a second … maybe I can take off and lose him in the forest or something? Not likely, unless I spy another house, and I doubt he’s dense enough to parade me around outside for his neighbors’ benefit. And it would be easy to get lost in the mountains and freeze to death. Or worse.
Changing my mind, I smoothly reply, “All right, a hike does sound refreshing. Besides, I wouldn’t mind seeing where I’m being held prisoner.”
I smile oh-so-sweetly up at him and his eyes narrow tightly in suspicion.
Chapter Seven
***
A Walk in the Woods
After a filling breakfast—the man can cook—we head down to the lower level of his comfortable home. The cavernous room is a workout enthusiast’s wet dream. High-tech machines fill the area; an elliptical and a treadmill sit alongside a weight bench and three shelves of free weights. So this is how he maintains that make-your-panties-wet physique. He must have a set routine he’s unwilling to break even while on vacation. I admire his tenacity.
There is not a single mirror in sight, but an oversized flat screen TV hangs from a suspended position above the black treadmill. The view from the gym is impressive, as the expansive window faces the same picturesque vision that graces the living room.
How old is this guy, and how can he afford all this? He only appears to be in his mid-thirties, so maybe he’s a trust funder? I’m beginning to wonder if he is a recluse, because there are no signs of humanity in this home: no photos, no ex-girlfriend’s clothing or beauty products, no trinkets. Nada. I wonder where he stashes that gorgeous collection of break-the-bank lingerie? I’ll have to peek around when I have the chance.
A rumbling voice rips me out of my thoughts.
“I could stare at your perfect tits beneath that fitted cardy all day long, petal, but I’d like you to slip this parka on for me now. It’s going to be huge on you but it will do the job against the bitter cold.”
The coat he holds open for me to slip into is marine blue and swallows me, hanging down to my knees. I have to roll the sleeves up three times before my hands are free. The fabric feels unbelievably decadent. The circular patch on the arm reads ‘Moncler.’ Of course. Only the best. He tugs the zipper up from the bottom and I’m immediately engulfed in sumptuous, downy warmth. An identical coat is draped over his arm, except that his is black.
He tilts his head to indicate that I should follow him toward the back exterior door. He stops to open a tall cabinet, pulling out a sheathed hunting knife. I take an involuntary step away from him as he checks the menacing weapon before slipping it back into its leather cover and clipping the holder onto his wide leather belt. Before I can ask what it’s for, he turns and tells me, “Can never be too careful. We are in the wilds, you know.” After that shocker, he lowers into a crouch and opens a dark gray, metal safe that’s mounted into the base of the cabinet. To my distress he reaches in for a matte black handgun, along with a leather shoulder holster.
“What the hell?” I shriek. Seeing the man who’s holding you against your will brandishing not one but two lethal weapons before taking you for “a walk” is not exactly comforting.
“Always a good thing to be prepared, petal.”
What have I gotten into? I remain watchful and nervous. My heart thunders as heinous thoughts enter my mind. Maybe we aren’t going for an innocent walk after all ….
Before we exit, he slides on his parka with fluid ease and punches a long numeric code into the security keypad beside the door. I memorize the first three numbers before he shifts his weight and steps in close, blocking the remaining digits from my view. An alarm system? Weapons? Terrific. Slim chance of me ever getting out of here, unless … somehow I get the rest of that code.
As if sensing my watchful eyes on him, he opens the door without glancing my way. Cold air bombards us as he says, “Don’t even think of trying to escape from me, Valla.”
The fact that he used my proper name must mean that he’s serious. I find his dangerous aura intriguing. I hope he was telling the truth when he said no harm would come to me ... unless it was from his delicious hand.
As we step outside, I have to blink several times before my eyes adjust to the light gleaming off the sparkling snow. It’s everywhere: on the trees, the ground, the path in front of us. The sky is a clear blue, lending a surreal quality to the pristine landscape. I inhale deeply and the brusque cold stings my lungs.
With a boyish grin, Judge looks down at me and clasps my hand, barely visible in the giant sleeve of the awesome parka.
“You up for a little hike with me today, my lovely? There’s a favorite spot of mine I’d really like to show you.”
“Let’s go. I’m game for an adventure. Might as well add to the constant upheaval.”
“Atta girl. Hold tight to me, baby. I wouldn’t want you to slip. Slick as glass out here today.”
Without skipping a beat, I add, “Yes, then you’d have to take me to a hospital, where your naughty little secret would get out.”
That warm, rough hand tightens around the tips of my fingers. “You’re already in trouble for throwing sass, woman. You need to curb that pink tongue of yours.”
“Or?” I huff up at him.
He pulls on my arm, which causes me to fall against him. I turn in his grasp as a delicious thrill goes through me. I lift my face to his. Oh boy, I really need to censor myself. Who knows what this man is capable of ... hopefully a myriad of wicked sexual positions if his smokin’ body and strict demeanor are accurate indicators.
He tilts his head and says in a calm, quiet voice, “There is no ‘or,’ my lovely. What will happen between us is a certainty, not an option. You brought that upon yourself in the bar the other night. I know what you need and the only thing you should be thinking about is when I’ll give it to you.”
My lips part and my breathing becomes shallow as I suck in puffs of frigid air. The thought comes to me, unbidden: soon, I hope it’s really soon. There is a throbbing against the seam of my snug jeans that is undeniable. Only Judge is capable of relieving this fevered ache.
He observes what must be an interesting play of emotions on my face as he says, “Come, let’s get a move on.”
We begin to make our way cautiously down a high, slick, winding road that’s only wide enough for one large vehicle. I keep an eye out for any signs of life, any clue that someone might live nearby. The farther we walk, the less hope I have. This place is the very picture of solitude.
Judge keeps a steadying hand on my upper arm until I get the hang of walking on snow and ice. Once I feel that I am on surer footing, I take in the mountain as I begin to discern the forms that are blanketed with the stuff. Tall trees stand proud in a seemingly endless sea around us.
I glance back over my shoulder at Judge’s house in the distance. The exterior is a sturdy, tri-level home built in a modern style. It has to be custom-made because it looks like a feat of geometry; three floors of rectangles are placed atop each other with allowances for varied overhangs. Very cool. Large multicolored stones make up the base and there’s a set of stone steps that lead up to a minimalist, smoked waterglass front door. There are two chimneys on the high roof with smoke wafting out to mingle with the cold air. An impressive home for an enigmatic man.
I turn forward and ask, “Do people ski or snowboard on this mountain? There’s certainly enough snow here.”
“Nah, not here at least. We’re at nine thousand feet right now and the mountain goes up to eleven. Tasman is popular with climbers during all seasons, though. The skiers and boarders go to the resorts at either Lake Wanaka or Queenstown. We’re definitely out in the wop-wops here.” My brows draw in at the unusual expression. He explains, “You know, the sticks, out in a rural area and all that. We call it wop-wops.”
“Interesting term. So do you enjoy skiing or snowboarding?” We continue down the frozen road and his strong arm holding me tight around the waist. Every few steps my feet slide a bit and I’m thankful for the security of his embrace.
“Used to all the time. Work too bloody much now. I just come up here to clear my head when I’m not on site. How ’bout you?”
“I definitely enjoy shredding up the slopes. I’m strictly a skier, though. My folks would take us out West on vacation every year. One of my favorite places was Breckenridge, Colorado. It was the best. Breathtaking scenery. Actually, not so different from this mountain.”
Judge glances at me sidelong. “I’d like to see you ski sometime.” He briskly rubs my upper right arm while asking thoughtfully, “Are you cold, sugar?”
Blushing slightly at this new term of endearment, I quietly answer, “No, I’m all right. It’s beautiful out here.”
At this point I’m starting to relax a bit and find myself wanting to know more about him. I’m drawn to him in ways I can’t explain. He is by far the most puzzling man I’ve ever crossed paths with.
I look up and ask, “So, out of curiosity, how far back does your family go?”
He continues walking. “My great grandparents on my father’s side came from Inverness, Scotland. My ma’s family is from the Netherlands, like a lot of settlers here. You know that the Maori are the native people of this island, right?”
“Yes, I read a bit about their history and culture before I booked my trip. Never thought in a million years that I would be abducted by one, though!”
“Cute, petal. But seriously, I think by right this entire island chain should still belong exclusively to them. I think they were well shafted, sort of like your American Indians, eh?”
“You have a point.”
I follow his lead as he turns right off the snowy road to head down a tight path winding into the forest. We make our way down the steep, weaving trail in comfortable silence. The only sounds are the calls of birds and the scurrying noises of small animals foraging in the snowy wonderland.
Nabbed in New Zealand Page 6