Finding Her Fantasy

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Finding Her Fantasy Page 2

by Trista Ann Michaels


  She couldn’t. She didn’t want to face the pity she knew would be in her assistant’s gaze. Stacy worried about her, and Melinda was okay with that. What she wasn’t okay with was being felt sorry for.

  “You could try one of those hedonistic resorts. The ones that have the ‘companions.’”

  Melinda snorted. “You’ve been listening to my brother too much. Sex isn’t the cure-all.”

  “No, but it doesn’t hurt,” Stacy replied.

  Melinda looked over at her and couldn’t resist smiling at her wicked grin. Stacy may be quiet, but she had a wild side that surfaced on occasion.

  “What I really need is a whole new life.”

  Stacy stood and moved around her desk. Sitting on the edge, she crossed her arms over her breasts. “What you need isn’t a new life. Just a new outlook. Your ex destroyed you, Mel. You’re not the same and you know it. You need to get your old self back. Forget what he did. He’s not worth letting yourself go like this.”

  Melinda blinked back the tears that threatened to spill. Stacy was right. She did need a new outlook.

  “Where do you want to go? I’ll call and set it up,” Stacy offered.

  “I don’t know,” Melinda whispered as she continued to lean against the door and stare out her office window.

  Rain poured, hitting the glass with a soft pinging sound. Fog had begun to roll in, giving the sky a hazy gray appearance. “Somewhere warm would be nice,” she murmured. “Somewhere quiet where I can think.”

  “You don’t need to think. You need to have fun.” Stacy moved back to her chair and began to flip through her contacts. “I know where you need to go. You just go home and pack and leave all the planning to me.”

  “Will you at least tell me what to pack?” she asked, her lips twitching in the first bit of amusement she’d felt all day.

  “You said somewhere warm. Pack bikinis,” Stacy replied as if Melinda should’ve already known that.

  “Bikinis,” Melinda grumbled as she turned to open the door. “I don’t think I even own a bikini.”

  “Then go buy one,” Stacy called as Melinda headed to the elevator.

  She shook her head, wondering if she would ever feel good again.

  * * * *

  Later that evening Melinda threw the last set of shorts into her suitcase and zipped it closed. Looked like she was all ready to go. Stacy had just sent a text saying everything was in place and her destination would be revealed shortly.

  Weirdly cryptic, Melinda thought as she stared at the text with a frown, then shrugged with indifference.

  At the moment, Melinda wasn’t sure she cared. Maybe her brother was right. Maybe she had been working too hard. She needed to get over what had happened. Accept the fact that all men were jerks. She didn’t need a man anyway. She was half owner of a major corporation.

  If she wanted jewelry, she could buy it herself. If she wanted a sports car, she could buy it herself. Same with a house, clothes, vacations. Hell, she didn’t even need a man for sex. If she wanted an orgasm, she could use the toys and give herself a better one than any man had ever given her. What did she need a man for?

  Nothing.

  Nodding in agreement with herself, she picked up the suitcase and set it by the front door. In her current state of depressive fog, she was likely to forget it if she didn’t almost trip over it while trying to leave.

  Her phone beeped and she flipped it open, noticing the text from her brother. She expected it to say “have you left yet?” or “all packed?”

  Instead, it read, Vacation begins with the knock at the door. Don’t be frightened. Enjoy.

  Don’t be frightened? What?

  Oh, no. No, no, no.

  “Oh, God, Marcus. Please tell me you didn’t—”

  The knock made her jump and she spun around to stare at the door. Her heart raced wildly with what she believed her brother had planned.

  A kidnapping.

  Part of her became excited at the idea. Who would he have gotten? What would they do with her?

  Her phone beeped again, and she glanced at the screen.

  Answer the door, Mel.

  Was Marcus close by? He had to be. She stared at the door again, wondering what she should do. If she ignored it, would they bust in?

  Her question was quickly answered when the door was thrust open. Melinda gasped and in reflex turned to run. Someone grabbed her arm and jerked her around. She slammed into a hard chest and looked up into a masked face. His eyes were the only things visible and she found herself staring into the prettiest pair of deep blue eyes she’d ever seen.

  She knew those eyes. And if they were attached to who she thought they were…

  Shaking the thought from her mind, she shoved at his chest, attempting to break his hold. His fingers only tightened around her elbow as he slung her around and into the arms of yet another masked man. This one wasn’t quite as tall, but was definitely as muscular as the other. When her back hit his chest, it felt as though she’d been slammed into a brick wall.

  “Who the hell are you?” she demanded. “Did my brother send you?”

  She struggled against the man’s hold as his hands kept a tight grip around her arms just above her elbows. He pulled back, holding her elbows against his sides as the other masked man moved forward.

  “Let me go,” she snarled. “I don’t have time for this. This isn’t funny, Marcus!” she shouted around the man behind her.

  He had to be somewhere close by.

  “That depends on your perspective,” Marcus drawled.

  She tried to see around the man’s wide shoulders and caught a glimpse of her brother lounging in the frame of the front door.

  “From your perspective, I imagine it’s not funny at all,” he replied.

  The other masked man moved forward. Melinda noticed the cloth in his hand, and her heart skipped a beat in trepidation. They planned to sedate her? Determined for this not to happen, she lifted her foot and kicked toward the masked man. He caught her foot easily, leaving her balanced on one leg.

  He wagged his finger and shook his head, which only angered Melinda more. She’d kill her brother the second she got free. Who would convict her after what he’d set up?

  She jerked her foot from his grasp and attempted the kick again, this time making contact with his hip. He groaned and leaned sideways just a bit. It wasn’t enough to knock him down, but his grunt of pain at least gave her some satisfaction.

  “I’m not going anywhere with you,” she snapped. “Damn you, Marcus. When I get free, I’m gonna ring your freakin’ neck!”

  “I’d like to see that, actually,” Andrew said as he came up beside her and covered her mouth with a cloth.

  The smell of the chloroform stung the back of her throat and she tried to turn her head, but Andrew kept the cloth firmly against her mouth. He’d caught her by surprise. Had that been their plan all along? She looked pleadingly into his eyes, but his response was only a smile.

  She wasn’t afraid. She knew Andrew and Marcus would never send her to anyone that would hurt her. She was angry. Angry that she’d divulged something so private to her brother and even angrier that he would use it like this.

  “You needed this, Mel. You deserve to be happy, to be your old self again,” Andrew said, but she struggled to hear him as she drifted into a deep sleep.

  *

  Marcus watched his sister sag against Jon, who raised his arms to wrap them around her ribs to keep her from falling. The chloroform had taken affect and she now slept peacefully against Jon’s chest. Erik removed his mask and bent to lift Melinda easily into his arms. He’d known these two men for years. So had Melinda.

  Andrew tossed the rag into a small bag and twisted the end closed so he could throw it away. “I hope you know what the hell you’re doing,” Andrew murmured as he walked past him out the front door.

  For a split second, Marcus had a pang of regret but he pushed it aside. His sister had been miserable. Her depression,
her anger, had affected every aspect of her life. She hated everyone. She’d always been hard-nosed at business, but now she’d become uncaring, which she showed clearly earlier today in his office when she’d been angry at him for keeping the other employees. That never would’ve bothered her before.

  It was time his sister enjoyed herself, found some pleasure in life again.

  He gave Erik a firm stare. “Take care of her.”

  Erik frowned. “As if that even needs to be said.”

  Marcus knew Erik well and knew he would never harm his sister. He trusted him, but still. “It’s my sister. It needs to be said.”

  Erik nodded in understanding and then brushed past him to carry Mel to the SUV waiting in the driveway.

  * * * *

  Clark sat behind the steering wheel of his SUV and watched Erik carry Melinda from the house. His eyes narrowed at the tall, muscular man. He knew that man, and Clark knew exactly what he was there for. Apparently Mel’s brother thought she needed a little action, a little kinky sex.

  With a snort, Clark lifted his cell phone off the seat next to him. Damn bitch didn’t have a clue how to be kinky. He’d wasted over a year of his life with that uptight broad and for what? Nothing, that’s what. Thanks to that trust stipulation, he hadn’t been able to get his hands on her money or the passwords to her Swiss accounts.

  Maybe deep down, she hadn’t trusted him either since he’d never been able to get them from her. But that would change soon enough. She owed him, and as far as he was concerned, she’d pay up or pay the consequences.

  Chapter 3

  Erik sat back in the leather chair on board the Citation that would take them back to Belize and studied Melinda as she slept on the sofa. Her skirt bunched around the top of her thighs and he couldn’t help but admire her long legs. He’d always thought Melinda was a looker ever since he’d met her at one of her brother’s parties.

  Her combination of black hair and gray eyes had caught his attention. Her intelligence and drive had kept it. At her brother’s parties, he’d often sought her out just to talk. He enjoyed her company. But she’d changed when she’d started dating that weasel who’d broken her heart. He’d kept a tight rein on her. Too tight as far as Erik was concerned. He’d even brought those concerns to Marcus, who’d agreed with him. Unfortunately, Marcus hadn’t been able to get through to her and had for a time, only succeeded in pushing her away.

  He never did see what she saw in Clark. He and Jon read right through him from the start, but he must’ve been one hell of a con to put one over on Melinda.

  With a sigh, he stood and walked over to the couch. Staring down at her, he wondered how she could’ve let a man rob her of her confidence, her trust. He’d never been in love, so maybe that was why he didn’t understand. He and Jon would help her, though. She would get all that back and then some. By the time she left their company, she would be the seductive tigress he knew she could be.

  He used the tip of his finger to brush her hair away from her cheek. The strand fell against the others, curling softly on the end. She had naturally curly hair. Instead of tight curls, it formed soft, loose curls. He lifted her hair, letting the strands wrap around his hand like a silken scarf. He’d make sure no other man ever did this to her again.

  The pilot, Gary, stuck his head out the cockpit door. “The trip should take us a total of six hours.”

  Erik straightened and let her hair fall from around his hand as he turned to face Gary. “Give me about thirty minutes to get her positioned.”

  Gary nodded and glanced toward Melinda with curiosity. It wasn’t the first time he’d seen them bring a woman with them, although it might be the first time he would hear her cursing them to oblivion. Erik was sure Melinda would be pissed the second she woke up.

  “If you need any help, just let me know,” Gary said, his lips lifting in a mischievous grin.

  Erik smiled back, but shook his head. “Not this time.”

  “Ah,” Gary acknowledged with a nod. “Let me know if you change your mind,” he added as he turned back into the cockpit, leaving Erik alone with Melinda once again.

  He looked back down at her sleeping form. Letting his gaze travel the length of her slim figure, he frowned slightly. He remembered her as being much curvier. She’d lost weight.

  Jon climbed the stairs and stepped into the cabin, drawing Erik’s attention away from the sleeping beauty on his couch.

  “I put her suitcase in the luggage compartment, along with her purse and cell phone.”

  “Good,” Erik replied.

  Jon glanced at him, then Melinda. “She looks so peaceful. I almost hate to disturb her.”

  Erik nodded. “I was just thinking the same thing. I have a feeling peaceful is the last thing she will be once she wakes up.”

  Jon snickered. “I thought you liked it when they fought you.”

  “Sometimes,” Erik replied softly. “I like fire, and from what I remember, Melinda has lots of fire, but…”

  Jon studied him intently and Erik looked away, not sure he was ready for Jon to know just how much he liked Melinda. It wouldn’t be a good thing at all for him to develop feelings for her. He never had in the past with other women, so he wasn’t sure why he even thought he might this time. But the thought was there, deep inside, that Melinda would be different. Much different.

  “Do you want her on the bed?” Jon asked.

  Erik was relieved Jon hadn’t pressed him and glanced back toward the bedroom. He pursed his lips in thought. “No,” he replied. “Let’s remove her clothes and put her in the recliner.”

  Jon looked at the chair Erik referred to with a frown. “You sure she’ll be comfortable in that thing?”

  Erik shrugged one shoulder. “We’ll recline it. She should be waking soon, so let’s get her settled. I want her bound as well.”

  Jon’s lips twitched slightly as he opened a cabinet door and pulled out four silk bindings. “Don’t want her throwing things at us?”

  “Not on the plane,” Erik said, his own lips twitching at the mental image of Melinda in a fit of rage. He liked women with a temper.

  * * * *

  Melinda stared in stunned silence at a pair of deep blue eyes. It was the only thing she could see through the slit in his mask. But it was enough. She knew those eyes. Those beautiful blue eyes were attached to an even more beautiful man.

  Her heart raced. Marcus had sent him? Erik Duvall?

  He was one of her brother’s friends. He and Jon owned a consulting business. On top of that, he was supposed to be some sort of stock-market guru, which is apparently where he’d earned most of his money. She’d met him several times but she’d always considered him and Jon off-limits because of their friendship with her brother.

  Why did he have to send him?

  “Erik,” she whispered.

  “Yes?” he drawled, his deep, sexy timbre sending shivers of wicked delight up her spine.

  With a gasp, she opened her eyes and stared at the very man she’d apparently been dreaming about standing just a few feet away. His shirt was partially open, exposing a smooth, tan, muscular chest. She moved her gaze upward, past his shoulder-length black hair, strong chin covered with a day’s growth of whiskers, full, kissable lips, and the prettiest pair of blue eyes she’d ever seen surrounded by thick, black lashes just like his hair.

  She swallowed, forcing herself to scowl as opposed to stare like a virgin who’d never seen a man. Her stomach felt queasy and her head pounded behind her eyes, so appearing displeased was an easy feat at the moment. She’d kill her brother for this.

  She tried to lift her hand, but couldn’t. She froze, the heat of a blush moving over her entire body as the realization she was naked and splayed out in front of him like a buffet hit her full force.

  “Oh my God,” she whispered.

  “You talk in your sleep, did you know that?” he asked, tilting his head to the side in the most adorable manner.

  His eyes crinkled in amu
sement, and her scowl deepened as she tried to cover her embarrassment. Jon moved to stand behind him, and Melinda rolled her eyes. Of course he would be there. Erik never kidnapped women without Jon.

  Jon could easily be described as Erik’s spitting image. She often wondered if they were related, but Marcus had confirmed they were not. They just looked a lot alike. About the only difference was Jon had shorter hair—much shorter. And his eyes weren’t quite as vivid as Erik’s.

  “Do the two of you go to the bathroom together as well?” she snapped, voicing her thoughts out loud without really meaning to.

  Erik chuckled while Jon raised an eyebrow. “Excuse me?” Jon asked with amusement.

  “I was just…never mind,” she grumbled. “Could you at least cover me up?”

  “No,” they replied in unison.

  “Of course not. Wouldn’t want your slaves to have even the tiniest bit of modesty,” she replied with sarcasm.

  Jon snorted, while Erik just grinned.

  They found her amusing. That didn’t make her feel better.

  She glanced around, trying to ignore the fact that Erik’s gaze on her body made her flesh tingle. She noticed the narrow room, the oblong windows, and groaned.

  “We’re on a plane?” she asked. “Where are we going?”

  “Does it matter?” Erik asked, his voice so deep and sexy she wanted to melt into a puddle.

  “I suppose not,” she snarled. Lifting her bound hands, she curled her lip in disgust, belaying the fact that disgust was the last thing she felt. What she truly felt was excitement. “It’s not like I can go anywhere.”

  “Oh, you’ll be going somewhere,” Erik murmured.

  Try as she might, Melinda couldn’t stop her gaze from taking in his powerful torso, his lean waist. God, he looked good. Especially in that crisp white shirt that accentuated his dark tan and vivid blue eyes.

  She glanced over at Jon who stood slightly to the side. He wore a soft blue shirt that made his eyes look darker than usual. Jon was no less attractive, but he lacked the dangerous look of Erik. Jon was more soft-spoken, more patient. Erik was wild, raw. She imagined he would like his sex a little on the rough side.

 

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