“Mitch, James is in terrible danger. I must speak with Dirk, it’s imperative I speak with Dirk.”
“Dirk’s busy. You’re to stay put where I can watch you.” Mitch settled the tray onto a nearby table.
Chloe looked up at the powerful man; his muscles bulged beneath his tight black t-shirt. He was in possession of a large sidearm. For the first time in her life she was aggravated James employed such huge men. She would never be able to knock him down, or do any type of damage.
“Mitch, please, I know you don’t know me well, but James will want to see me, you must understand that,” she said in a soft placating, pleading tone, hoping that might help.
* * * *
“You’re not going anywhere near James.”
Mitch was looking down sternly into Chloe’s haggard expression. He could tell she had been weeping. He could see red marks on her body where she had been battering at the door.
He had witnessed her throwing the chair at the window through a monitor on his computer and decided it was time for an intervention before she harmed herself. The chair had barely missed her when it rebounded backwards. He was uncertain what Dirk had in mind for her, even though the man’s emotions were obviously aggravated.
Perhaps that was why he had sent her away, he had wanted to think this through rationally. Dirk’s explanation to him had been very vague, though he had stressed nothing was to happen to her, absolutely nothing.
“Please, Mitch, can’t I at least wander the house, at least for a little while?” Chloe implored. “Please don’t keep me locked away. You must see I’m no threat to you. I hate being trapped. I’m afraid.”
“I’ll think on it. For now you be a good little girl and eat your dinner. You’re gonna have to take my word for it that it ain’t drugged. It’s getting late and it will be time for bed soon anyway. We can talk more tomorrow.”
Mitch turned and strode for the door, but Chloe grabbed at his arm, stopping him. Mitch sighed and looked down at her. Her eyes remained soft, pleading, desperate. In her present state she was bound to try anything reckless and or stupid and dangerous. He couldn’t allow that, he had his orders. His dark green eyes hardened, hoping to instill fear of himself into her.
“Chloe, you don’t want to find out how far I can throw you.”
* * * *
Chloe looked up at him, stunned. Never in her life had any of James’ men threatened her. James would have beaten them senseless. With a heavy heart Chloe realized he wasn’t one of James’ men, he was Dirk’s, and Dirk thought she had tried to kill his father. Chloe took her hand off Mitch’s arm and stepped back.
She gazed up at the huge man a bit fearfully. She was wondering just what damage Dirk would allow him to do to her. She swallowed heavily. The impact of understanding settled like a massive stone within her belly. She no longer had the protection of the family behind her; she was utterly alone.
“I’ll bring you breakfast early and maybe let you look around,” Mitch offered. He turned and strode from the room.
Chloe went back to her bed. Once more she perched tentatively on the corner. She wondered if she and Mitch were alone. It was more than likely; Dirk would need all of his men close and accounted for to brief them on the events he believed to be true.
Chloe tried to remember what she knew about Mitch. He was married with one child, a young son. His wife was annoyed with him. When he had brought her to James’ home, she had come literally kicking and screaming. Only James had been able to calm her, taking the time to pacify her anger.
Narrowing her eyes, Chloe decided ‘mountain man Mitch’ wasn’t very good with women. Her shoulders slumped. What to do? Women’s wiles would never work on him. Crying wouldn’t work, his own wife had done enough of that and the man remained unmoved, almost emotionally detached. He would only laugh if she threatened him with violence.
Chloe’s head began to throb. She rose and went to the washroom, hoping to find an aspirin in the medicine cabinet. There were none. She noticed her toiletries from home were here. Dirk worked quickly.
Exiting the washroom, Chloe walked over to her dinner tray. Perhaps if she ate something it might settle her head, if not her belly. Lifting the lid, she grimaced as a noxious aroma wafted up to invade her nostrils.
Her nose scrunched daintily. She hated macaroni, especially when it was burnt, it smelled beyond horrible. Poking at it, she discovered it was stone cold and clumped together into one giant congealed mass, the entire confection attaching itself to the fork as if it were fused together.
Obviously Mitch was in no possession of culinary skills if he couldn’t handle something as easy as this should have been. Cautiously she sipped at her coffee cup, then spit the liquid back out.
“That’s just disgusting! How can anyone screw up something as easy as instant coffee?”
With loathing her eyes narrowed onto a napkin covering something. She was afraid to look. With trepidation she lifted the edge of the napkin taking a peek, another noxious odor assaulted her senses.
“My God! It’s Dirk’s intention to poison me!” she declared while gazing down at another burnt liquid brown mess she could only assume was some type of dessert. No wonder Mitch hadn’t bothered to drug the food. One taste and she would be dead anyway. Or in the very least, incapacitated! Is this what happened when you cooked instant pudding…or was it burnt prunes?
Chloe went back to sit down. Her mind was moving furiously, her headache forgotten. If Mitch couldn’t cook that might prove to be very useful, she pondered. If she was hungry she wondered if Mitch was.
She shook her head and rolled her eyes. Men were always hungry. He wouldn’t chance ordering out, too risky. She doubted anything was close by, regardless.
Knowing Dirk, Mitch was under strict orders never to leave her alone, which meant no trips into town. More than likely the freezer, fridge, and pantry were stocked. That would mean he would be stuck cooking, and Chloe would be stuck eating his burnt creations. She grimaced at the thought. Dirk really was mad!
As the sky outside darkened, Chloe climbed under her sheets. She was still feeling tired from the drug and settled sleepily. She remained clothed. She knew beyond doubt Mitch was somehow watching her. She knew Dirk too well; she refrained from looking for the cameras. The room was probably bugged. She hid her calculating expression under an arm slung across her face and put a plan into motion.
“I wish Mitch would let me cook,” she grumbled aloud. “I’m starving. There isn’t any possible way I could outrun him anyway, he’s way too big, I would be too afraid to make him angry. I don’t even know where I am. I feel so sad and alone. I feel so utterly helpless.” It didn’t take much for a single tear to drip to her sheets that she rubbed at while sniffing for dramatic effect.
She hoped Mitch was listening, watching. There were other things she would have liked to say, none very ladylike and definitely threatening. ‘Mountain man’ wouldn’t even see it coming, she vowed. She was leaving, tomorrow. She was going to find Dirk and kick his ass for thinking she had hurt James, then she would find Damien and kick his ass for allowing this to happen and when she got tired of kicking ass she would take her money and leave!
* * * *
Chloe woke to Mitch standing over her.
“Here’s the deal,” he began. “You come downstairs, no tricks, no tears, no drama queen melodramatics. Then you can make us both breakfast.”
Chloe yawned loudly and stretched. “Can I shower first?”
“Fine, I’ll come for you when you’re done.”
“How will you know when I’m finished?” Chloe asked innocently. She almost laughed when Mitch shifted uneasily.
“Just bang on the door,” he suggested.
“Why don’t you just stay in here and I’ll be out in a minute,” Chloe suggested. She wanted his grubby little eyes where she knew he wouldn’t be watching her.
Chloe grabbed a change of clothes and went to the washroom, locking the door behind her. It didn’t
take her long to finish and she was soon standing before Mitch.
“Well? I’m starving. Burnt macaroni, charcoal coffee and mystery dessert just isn’t my thing,” Chloe informed him.
“Mine either,” Mitch grumbled.
Chloe glanced into each room as Mitch propelled her forwards and determined she was right, she and Mitch were alone in a large chalet. Dirk’s biggest mistake was always assuming women were defenseless against huge men.
“So how come you were given babysitting detail?” Chloe asked curiously, though she suspected. With his own family in Dirk’s care she could almost guarantee Mitch would allow nothing to happen to her…threat of retribution.
Before Chloe could even begin cooking, she washed at what appeared to be Mitch’s feeble attempt at their breakfast. Scowling, Chloe cocked her head to the side. He had tried to cook cornflakes…cornflakes? Really?
Shaking her head, Chloe removed bacon, eggs and sliced, store bought bread from the refrigerator, followed by butter, jam, cream, and ketchup. She took down two hanging pans from above the kitchen island and started the stove. She moved about the kitchen with ease, mixing six eggs with a small amount of cream.
“I asked for it,” Mitch replied to her question.
Chloe looked at his somewhat haggard expression. The pan sizzled when she arranged the bacon. “You’re not very good with women, are you?”
“My wife will come around, eventually,” Mitch grouched. He lathered a large amount of jam onto the three pieces of buttered toast she placed on a small plate before him.
“Sure, once she finds out you’re all alone in the middle of nowhere with a young woman.”
“What she don’t know won’t hurt me,” Mitch declared, snorting, and Chloe laughed.
“Want some advice?” Chloe asked.
“No. Just the rest of my breakfast.” Then after a pause, “It ain’t gonna help, you know.”
“What won’t help?”
“Being nice and trying to be my friend. You ain’t going nowhere till Dirk says so. You’re stuck with me, baby.”
“We don’t need to be enemies. Why don’t we just be friends?” Chloe purred, flirting slightly, trying to put him at ease. She scooped a generous amount of fluffy scrambled eggs onto a large plate and set it before him with a fresh, steaming cup of coffee and a glass of ice cold tomato juice.
Mitch looked at her thoughtfully. “How friendly do you wanna be?” he asked.
“Don’t you worry what Damien will say?” Chloe asked, eyes raised innocently. She was going to have to play this very carefully. She could see his interest radiating from cold calculating eyes. She could tell the man before her would never develop any real feelings for her. Pleading her case was definitely out. He seemed devoid of emotion. She wondered how his wife had managed to snag such a catch, poor woman.
“Damien’s had his own share of women, he’ll understand. Waiting was never one of his strong points,” Mitch informed her almost cruelly. He shoved a huge amount of food into his mouth, chewing noisily. Chloe rose and scooped the bacon onto a paper towel, then placed it onto the table in front of him. She was not offended. She knew Damien had seen other women. She didn’t care.
“Perhaps waiting isn’t one of his strong points. What he lacks in one area he definitely makes up in others,” Chloe commented with slight suggestiveness. Once more she was flirting, while also trying to maintain a degree of distance. She didn’t want him too interested, especially when they were out here all alone.
“Okay, so tell me what advice you would’ve offered if we were friendly,” Mitch asked curiously. An entire piece of crisp bacon disappeared into his mouth.
“You could practice on me. For starters how to be nice; manners are always helpful,” Chloe said. She took a dainty bite from a piece of bacon.
“What’s in it for me?” Mitch asked. Half of his tomato juice followed the slice of bacon in a single gulp. He then took a long sip of his coffee.
“You’re being fed, aren’t you?” Chloe said dryly.
“I coulda made you cook for me,” Mitch said smugly.
“I’m guessing,” Chloe began, not wanting to offend, “that Dirk has mentioned you weren’t to hurt me.” She said that with every hope in her heart. A small tinge of sadness settled within her belly that she even had to wonder.
“I wouldn’t necessarily have made it hurt.”
Chloe shuddered at his lewd glance. She was noticing just how large his hands were while wrapped around his mug. She refrained from mentioning she knew Dirk would have forbidden that for certain, no matter how angry Dirk was. He despised forcing women and loathed any man who did.
She knew Mitch was trying to intimidate her. She knew suddenly beyond doubt the man before her would not harm her in any way. That he was using his words and not actions convinced her.
“All right, let’s cut the crap,” Chloe declared, tired of the exchange. She leaned forward, locking eyes with the man. “We’re both stuck here for the time being. I don’t want to be locked up all day, you want to eat. Why don’t we compromise?”
“So compromise,” Mitch declared. He leaned back in his chair, studying her. Chloe knew the man before her was smart. James didn’t employ stupid men; it would stand to reason neither would Dirk. She realized he had been playing with her all along, testing her, seeing how far he could push. Wondering if she would frighten easily. She wouldn’t; she had been raised around powerful men.
Chloe sighed, feeling uncomfortable. This part of her plan was imperative. “If I clean up the kitchen, do dishes, can we go outside for a little while? I’m guessing we’re alone out in the middle of nowhere.”
“You run from me you won’t get far,” Mitch warned. “And for the record I’ve never found a woman’s tears a problem. I grew up with four older sisters; their lives were a never-ending soap opera!”
“I don’t run very fast,” Chloe admitted. She had no intentions of running…yet. What she had in mind was going to piss him off so badly she planned on being in another country before he could come looking for her.
“Can you make prime rib and Yorkshire pudding?” he asked.
“If you have the ingredients I can cook anything you want,” Chloe declared proudly, and felt victorious. She smiled at him, knowing he was going to allow her to go outside.
“Get your shoes on,” Mitch ordered.
Chloe raced for her room.
Chapter Fifteen
Chloe breathed in deeply. The air was so fresh and sweet, as clear as the blue sky overhead. Warm sun caressed her face when she looked about with interest.
She had strolled down to the large wooden dock. The surface was ripple free and so clear she could make out a few large boulders submerged deeply underwater. The tiny lake was impressive, beautiful in an enchanting way.
When her hand dipped, breaking the glassy top, the water felt warm at the surface but cooler underneath. Minnows darted from her open palm and wriggling fingers. The abundant trees that surrounded them reached every visible bank except the one on Dirk’s property. The entire lake was enclosed in high, rolling hills.
Chloe turned and made her way off the dock, keeping Mitch close. Every move she made was unthreatening, slow. She was wary of risking Mitch’s wrath and being returned indoors before she completed her task.
Along the way back she stooped to pick a large handful of pretty little buttercups. Lifting them to her nose, she inhaled deeply and smiled. She strolled farther into the densely forested area. Her running shoes crunched the dry leaves beneath her feet.
Standing tiptoe on a rock, she examined a tiny tree frog. She admired the teeny suction cups on his little feet. A chipmunk rustled in the foliage close by, chattering noisily at her intrusion.
“Stand right here, I need to take a leak,” Mitch informed her. He reached for his zipper, not bothering to turn around or seek shelter behind a tree or in any way conceal his actions.
Chloe turned away and smiled, un-offended. Here was just perfect. She
stepped from the rock to settle before him. Her hand reached out to supposedly study a bush of small white flowers. When ingested, their properties as well as the buttercups induced dizziness, vomiting and severe internal discomfort, diarrhea.
Deftly, she picked a small handful of nearby baneberries. She wondered for a moment where to hide them, having no pockets, but on hearing a zipper pulled, she hastily stashed them away in the front of her underpants.
She squirmed for a moment, suddenly having insight into realizing why men adjusted themselves so often with a fast jiggle. Here she had always thought it was a morbid curiosity with their privates, copping a quick feel.
Crap this was uncomfortable! How could they stand it? It was a good thing the berries weren’t larger; she would be dancing around like a stupid fool.
“I need to go, too,” Chloe declared, facing him, trying to keep her face neutral, but failing miserably.
“I ain’t turning away so you can bash me,” Mitch informed her.
“The minute you came to, you would be after me, and no doubt feeling extremely angry. I told you I can’t run very fast. Besides, that isn’t something women do as readily as men out in the open, too much needs to come down, and it’s way too much exposure to unknown elements,” Chloe informed him.
The berries were squishing, making her feel beyond uncomfortable. She hoped if the dark juice leaked she would be able to explain it off as something else.
“Then let's get back,” Mitch said, and grandly waved his hand, urging her ahead of himself. Chivalry had nothing to do with his manners; she almost chuckled realizing he really thought she might conk him on the head. With relief, Chloe moved quickly. Mitch’s long legs had no trouble keeping pace.
Once inside, Chloe headed to a large washroom on the main floor, but not before grabbing a small black vase she had noticed in the kitchen while she was cooking.
Chloe knew Dirk’s wife, Candy, must have stayed here at some point. The sweet, hand-painted, obviously expensive vase was definitely not Dirk’s style. Too dainty. Knowing Dirk, he would have been afraid to handle it, afraid he would crush it in his large hands.
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