After a moment’s hesitation, she released her grip. When he started to tug the mask back into place, she took advantage of his momentary blindness to ram an elbow into his gut, hard enough to make his breath whoosh out. As he doubled over, she scrambled out from under him. Still blinded by the ski mask, he managed to lock one hand around an ankle and haul her back. Throwing himself on top of her, he pinned her to the mattress, allowing his full weight to hold her immobile.
“Get off me,” she gasped.
“Shut up.” He tugged the mask back into position, then raised himself onto his elbows, taking most of his weight off her chest. As she squirmed beneath him, he realized he had a full erection. It pressed into the juncture of her thighs and, without consciously intending to do so, he thrust against her. She abruptly stopped struggling, to lay stiff as a statue.
They remained in that position for several moments, faces only inches apart as they gazed into one another’s eyes. Neither spoke, although neither could ignore the erection sandwiched between them, huge and throbbing with a life of its own. His eyes locked onto her mouth, wondering what it would be like to kiss her. She was breathing in shallow, panting breaths, her chest heaving beneath his. Both it and the pulse throbbing in his ears seemed unnaturally loud in the heavy stillness.
“Despite the fact that I’ve thoroughly enjoyed wrestling with you, it’s beginning to grow tiresome. Continue to resist, and I will use pain to make you comply.”
She took a deep, shuddery breath as green eyes brimming with frank rebellion met his. “I’m not taking that freaking pill.”
While preparing for this mission, he’d tried to plan for every possible contingency, but never once had he imagined that she’d be so goddamned recalcitrant. Pinning her upper arms to the mattress, he walked his knees up either side of her body until he was straddling her waist, all the while trying to ignore the erection that tented his pajama bottoms. “I didn’t want to do this, but you leave me no choice.”
When he circled one hand about her throat, she realized his intention and tried to suck in a breath. He clamped down with barely enough force to close off her windpipe. Grabbing his wrist with both hands, she struggled to wrench his hand away.
He held the pill before her face. “Open your mouth and I’ll let go.” Her jaw clenched tighter. “Open your fucking mouth!” The tears that glittered in defiant green eyes deflated his erection. Oxygen depletion gradually slackened her grip on his wrist, her face began take on a bluish hue, and still she wouldn’t open.
Fuck!
He abruptly released his grip. Her chest heaved like a bellows as she desperately sucked in air. “You can kill me if you want, but I’m not swallowing that pill.”
He briefly considered relenting but, if he conceded defeat so easily, she’d be even harder to manage over the next four days. She had to take it. But since threats seemed to have no effect, how could he make her comply without actually hurting her? He’d more easily managed hardened Afghan rebels, while she was just a pampered American woman.
Then it hit him. He needed to change tactics and deal with her as a woman.
Shifting off her, he grabbed her shoulders and roughly flipped her onto her stomach. He immediately threw a leg over her so he was once again straddling her, but this time facing her feet. Grabbing her pants by their elastic waistband, he yanked them down to expose her bare buttocks.
Thrashing frantically, she threw an arm back over his thigh, locked a hand onto her pants, and struggled to pull them back up. “What are you doing?”
“It just occurred to me that you don’t have to swallow the capsule. It’ll work just as well administered as a rectal suppository.”
CHAPTER 7
“No!” she screamed. “Okay. Okay! I’ll take it!”
“Too late. I’d rather give it to you this way.”
“Please! Let me swallow it.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes! I promise not to fight anymore.”
Triumphant, Chase let her up.
Scrambling away from him, she huddled against the cheap, wooden headboard and knuckled tears from her eyes. “If you’re not planning to … to do something to me, then why do I have to take it?”
“Without it, you won’t be able to sleep. If you don’t sleep, I won’t sleep, and I’ve got a whole day of driving ahead of me tomorrow.”
Sullen eyes stared at him for the space of a dozen heartbeats. “And there’s no other reason?”
“I’d think by now it would be obvious that if I were planning to molest you I’d prefer you wide-awake and struggling.”
Her eyes flicked to his crotch, and a flush crept up her cheeks. “Okay, give it to me.” When she opened her mouth, he placed the capsule on her tongue. She drained the last of the water from the glass, swallowed, and opened her mouth again, lifting her tongue this time.
“See how much easier it is when you don’t fight me?”
“See how much easier it is when you explain things?”
Pleased her spirit was still intact, he raised a hand to sketch a little salute. “Touché.”
“If you expect me to cooperate, then you need to treat me with a little more respect.”
“A mutually beneficial accord? In the interests of making the next four days go by any easier, I agree.” Anything to make handling her easier.
Green eyes opened wide as his words registered. “Next four days? You’re not delivering me tomorrow?”
Caressed by the sultry southern warmth of her voice, he shook his head in the negative. Despite the fact that she was a gold-digging, child-abandoning bitch, she was a most diverting woman. No wonder Keswick was willing to pay a small fortune for her return.
Sweating slightly from their exertions, she tugged his sweatshirt over her head, instantly provoking another stirring at his crotch. Well, shit. Sexual attraction was something he hadn’t taken into consideration beforehand. He’d definitely have to guard against it.
A high-pitched sound caught his attention, and then he noticed the exaggerated rise and fall of her chest. “Are you wheezing?”
As if on cue, she gasped and clutched her throat. “I’m having an asthma attack! I can’t breathe. I need to go to the emergency room!”
Fuck. This was just what he needed. “Cut the theatrics. We’re not going anywhere.” Keeping an eye on her, he rummaged through the trash bag of toiletries.
“If you don’t take me, I’ll die!”
“Don’t be melodramatic.”
When he extended his arm toward her, green eyes widened at seeing her inhaler. For a moment, he thought she’d refuse it in an attempt to force the issue of going to the hospital. Apparently realizing this would be yet another battle she’d lose, she snatched it from his hand and sucked the mist into her lungs.
“Is your asthma bad? And don’t lie.”
She held the breath for a moment, then exhaled. “Not normally. I haven’t used the inhaler in nearly a year.”
“Stress makes it worse?” She nodded. Shit. “I saw it in your medicine cabinet and brought it, just in case.”
She took a second hit off the inhaler. “What are you? Some kind of Boy Scout?” Was that a slight tinge of sarcasm he detected? As the wheezing gradually subsided, he definitely detected the unmistakable sound of an empty stomach rumbling, and it wasn’t his own. “You really should eat something.”
“I am starting to feel a little hungry.”
Following closely as she headed toward the kitchenette, he realized he’d have to keep her hobbled. She may have agreed to cooperate, but she was a fool if she thought he’d trust her. She’d proven to be both devious and relentless, and he would not underestimate her again. “Take a seat.”
As he retrieved the untouched sandwich from the refrigerator, she removed the damp ski mask from the back of the chair and placed it on the table. “You brought an extra mask?”
“Several extras. I believe in being prepared.”
“You really are a Boy Scout, aren
’t you?” He set the sandwich before her and retrieved the second chair from in front of the television.
As she ate, green eyes flicked constantly around the room, paying particular attention to the door and window. There was such grim determination at work in that beautiful face that he could almost hear the wheels turning in her head.
She swallowed the last bite, washed it down with a sip of water, and turned those gorgeous green eyes on him. “So, what do I call you?”
He shrugged. “Whatever you like.”
“I could think of several things.”
“I’m sure you could.”
“Where are we headed?”
“You’ll find that out when we get there.”
“I don’t see why it has to be such a freaking secret. I mean, it not like I can do anything to alter our destination. And what happened to our ‘mutually beneficial accord’?”
“Some things I’m simply not at liberty to tell you.” When her mouth opened to protest, he quickly cut her off. “And we’re not going to argue about it.”
Eyes narrowed, she abruptly scraped her chair back and stood. “I have to go to the bathroom again. May I close the door?”
He gave her a prolonged stare. “You’ve proven beyond the shadow of a doubt that you cannot be trusted, and yet you have the audacity to ask me that question?”
“You promise you won’t watch?”
“You have my word.”
“As a gentleman?” This time she made no attempt to blunt the sharp edge of sarcasm.
“Absolutely.”
Rolling her eyes, she headed for the bathroom. While she relieved herself and brushed her teeth again, he got the bed ready.
When she exited the bathroom, her worried expression faltered into one of shock as she spotted the handcuffs lying on the turned-down bed. “I thought that’s why I took the sleeping pill.”
“You took the sleeping pill so you could sleep. The handcuffs are so you don’t escape.”
Her shoulders slumped. “Well, the freaking pill’s taking effect and I’m too tired to argue with you.”
“I wasn’t able to find any pajamas or nightgowns, so I’m assuming you usually sleep in the nude.”
Under her breath, she muttered something that might have been asshole. “I’ll sleep in my clothes.”
With only the barest tightening of her jaw betraying her emotion, she lay down on the bed. Ratcheting a cuff around her left wrist, he silently cursed as his penis sprang back to attention. As he set the alarm clock, she glanced up and her eyes widened in alarm at seeing the huge bulge in his pajamas.
Embarrassed, he blurted, “Some things a man can’t control. I swear I have no intention of molesting you.”
He crawled into bed beside her, fastened the second cuff around his right wrist, and locked both. After turning out the light, he pulled off the ski mask and slid it under his pillow, where he’d be able to find it quickly in the dark. “I’m a very light sleeper. Every time you move, I’ll awaken.” They hugged opposite sides of the mattress, but merely an inch separated their cuffed hands. Her entire body was rigid with tension, and she jerked when he shifted his hand to clasp her fingers. “Try not to worry so much. Everything will be fine.”
Disengaging her hand from his, she spoke slowly, the words slurring. “That’s easy for you to say.”
They lay there unmoving in the darkness. After a few minutes, she rolled toward him onto her side, and he knew from her slow, deep, even breathing she was asleep. He lay awake for some time, acutely aware of every soft breath she drew, of every twitch and shift of her body.
It was going to be a very long four days.
CHAPTER 8
The windup alarm clock shrilled an hour before dawn. Coming instantly awake, Chase reached over in the darkness to shut it off.
Sometime during the night, his captive must have gotten cold, for she’d instinctively sought out his body heat, draping a supple leg across his thighs and wrapping an arm about his torso as she pillowed her head on his chest. Despite the unsettling and thoroughly annoying sexual distraction, he’d been content for her to stay that way, for it kept him constantly assured of her whereabouts, even while he slept.
He jostled her a little. “Wake up.” She stirred and murmured something unintelligible, her breath stirring the hair on his chest. He shook her gently. “Larissa. Wake up.”
She mumbled sleepily, “Hmm?”
“It’s time to get up.”
“What—?” Stiffening suddenly, she shoved herself away from him. The bed creaked and groaned beneath him as she jerked around in the dark, presumably checking the status of her person and clothing.
“Don’t worry, you’re unmolested.” Extracting the ski mask from under his pillow, he tugged it on one-handed before switching on the bedside lamp. Shielding her eyes with her free hand, she shifted away from him as far as the handcuffs would allow. After removing the cuff from his own wrist, he closed it around her free arm, grimacing at the reddish-purple bruises there. The sleeping pill had been a strong one and, before he’d even finished securing her to the bed with a length of rope, she was asleep again. He decided to risk leaving off the gag while he showered.
Once showered and dressed, he returned to the bed to hobble her feet with another length of rope, then removed the handcuffs. “Larissa, wake up.” As she stirred, he grabbed her legs and swung them over the side of the bed, then pulled her to a sitting position. She sat there blinking against the light, hair all bedroomy. When she seemed sufficiently awake, he pulled her to her feet. “Whatever you need to do in the bathroom, you’ve got fifteen minutes in which to do it. I’ve hobbled your legs, so take small steps.”
She trudged, grumbling and complaining, to the bathroom. There was no microwave, so he heated water for instant coffee on the ancient gas range. While the sound of running water came from the bathroom, he made tuna salad for their lunch. He’d just sealed the finished sandwiches into zippered bags when she exited the bathroom and headed for the bed.
“Over here,” he called. With an irritated sigh, she turned and plodded over to the kitchenette, taking small steps in deference to the hobble. He filled two bowls with milk and set a box of cereal on the table. When she sat there slumped and unmoving, eyes at half-mast, he opened the box and poured cereal into the milk. “Eat.”
She blinked and focused on the cereal bowl. After a moment, she picked up a spoon and lethargically complied. He took a seat across the small table from her and ate his own cereal. She clearly was unaccustomed to sleeping pills for, halfway to her mouth, the spoon slipped from her fingers and clattered into her bowl, splashing milk and cereal onto the table.
When he chuckled, green eyes snapped to his, glinting with anger. There was something so feline in her direct stare that he imagined her with ears laid flat, fur fluffed, and tail twitching. He’d have to be cautious of the extended claws.
Her angry gaze shifted to the dark window. “It’s the middle of the freaking night!”
“It’s five o’clock in the morning.”
“Why the hell are we getting up so early?”
“I want to be out of here before dawn.”
“This is freaking ridiculous. It probably won’t be light for another hour.”
“Are you always this bitchy in the morning?”
“Only after I’ve been drugged and kidnapped.”
Jesus, even when she was bitching, that southern accent of hers was sexy as hell.
When she’d finished the cereal, she stumbled over to the dresser and retrieved her shoes from the garbage bag. He quickly crossed to her and plucked them from her hands. “Since you won’t be doing any running, you won’t need your running shoes.”
“I need something on my feet.”
He dropped the shoes back into the bag. “No, you don’t.”
After securing her to the bed, he transferred the food from the refrigerator to the coolers, loaded the rest of their stuff, and checked the room to assure he wasn’t
forgetting anything. He removed the ski mask, bought two bags of ice from the machine by the office, and emptied them into the coolers.
She grumbled when he woke her again, but allowed him to lead her out into the still-dark parking lot. Crawling into the van on hands and knees, she collapsed face down in the cargo area. By the time he had her hands and feet fastened to the eyebolts, she was once again sound asleep.
The morning air was cool, so he unfolded the cotton blanket he’d brought, and draped it over her. He briefly debated the necessity of gagging her. He had to make a quick stop for fuel, but it didn’t appear as though she’d be waking anytime soon. Once she did awaken, they’d be on the highway where she could scream herself hoarse. The gag was such a horrible contraption that he decided to leave it off for now.
* * * * *
As Larissa slowly came awake, she could feel every slow beat of her heart as it sluggishly pumped blood through her veins. Her mental processes were barely functioning and, for a few blessed moments, she was aware of nothing beyond the fact that her bladder was uncomfortably full.
Then memory returned, and the resulting rush of terror almost caused it to let go.
She was back in the van again and they were moving, the lack of stops and starts indicating they were on a highway or expressway. Normally the very idea of traveling at such high speeds would have had her heart racing but, everything considered, the danger an auto accident presented seemed inconsequential.
The arms extended over her head were secured to the van’s floor. When she tried to bend her knees, she discovered her ankles were likewise secured. Beneath the lightweight blanket, she stretched as well as she could. Surprisingly, he’d not blindfolded or gagged her. She struggled over onto her back, blew the hair from her eyes, and looked about.
The Heart Has Reasons Page 6