The Determined Virgin

by Daphne Clair

  Then a muffled bang came from somewhere outside, the elevator jerked to a dead stop and the light went out.

  Gabriel let fly a single swearword. He fumbled his hand over the control panel, pressed a couple of buttons without much hope.

  Nothing happened.

  Rhiannon hadn't made a sound. He couldn't see a thing in the thick, stuffy blackness. 'Rhiannon? Are you

  okay?'

  'Yes.' But he could hear the strain in the single syl­ lable.

  'It's all right,' he said. 'Just a power cut.' In the dark he located the emergency phone and lifted it, his heart sinking at the deafening silence on the other end. Futilely he shook it.

  He tried to prise the doors apart without success, and muttered, 'Damn!'

  'What?' Rhiannon asked.

  Trying to sound reassuring, he said, 'We're not in any danger, but the emergency phone isn't working. We do have an occasional problem with vandalism, but at a guess, more likely one of the diggers on the next door excavation cut through some cables and knocked out both the phone and power lines.'

  'Your cell phone...' she suggested tightly. 'I don't have mine.'

  'It won't work in here.'

  Cursing the darkness, he began moving slowly to­ wards her. 'We're stuck for now, but hopefully it won't be long before it's fixed.' Mick had left the building some time ago and if he stayed out late it could be hours before anyone realised their predicament. Even then he might not know they were still here.

  His hand touched cool skin—her arm. She drew in a breath and pulled away.

  'It's me,' he said foolishly. Who else would she think it was?

  'I know.' Her voice was tight and cold. 'Don't touch me. Please.'

  Gabriel suffered a wave of shock, a kind of outrage. He was already rattled, his equilibrium seriously out of whack. Trapped and helpless—which wasn't a condition he relished—with a woman he knew was deathly afraid of exactly this situation, and he was unable to see any way of getting her out of it.

  And now Rhiannon was acting as if she expected him to attack her.

  'For God's sake!' he snarled. 'When have I ever given you reason to be afraid of me?'

  A great way to gain her confidence, he realised bleakly, but his patience had snapped, driving him on. 'What the hell happened to you anyway?'

  She didn't answer, and he pummelled the wall with a fist, pushed at the unmoving doors. He swore again, loudly, uncaring if he shocked Rhiannon.

  She said, her voice coming from the darkness behind him, 'I'm sorry.'

  'For what?' The apology didn't mollify him. If anyone should be apologising, it was him, but knowing that only made him angrier.

  'I'm not afraid of you, Gabriel.' He heard a faint rustle of movement, but couldn't see a thing. 'I was afraid that if you...if you held me, I'd have hysterics all over you. And that wouldn't do either of us any good.'

  Oh, God. She was holding herself together by the mer­ est thread. That was the reason for the clipped, con­ trolled speech, the refusal to accept physical support. She was fighting terror but determined not to give in to it, righting it alone in her own damnably independent fash­ ion. And he'd yelled at her.

  'Feel free,' he said. 'You're welcome to have hyster­ ics for both of us.' And was relieved when he heard a shaky, smothered laugh.

  'Are you scared?' she asked.

  'Not scared. Annoyed that I can't get you out of this. You really hate it, don't you?'

  'Not as much as I would have if I'd been alone.'

  Well, that was hopeful. 'It might be a while before we get out of here,' he said carefully. 'So we may as well make ourselves as comfortable as we can. Are you cold?'

  'No, it's quite muggy, actually.'

  'Let me know if you want to borrow my jacket.'

  'Thanks.'

  His eyes were beginning to adjust. He could just make out her slightly paler form against the prevailing black­ ness as she slid to the floor against the far wall, a hud­ dled shape.

  Gabriel followed suit, folding his arms and leaning his head against the nearest wall, letting his long legs stretch in front of him, careful to keep them away from her. Wishing she'd let him come near.

  He ached to fold her into his arms and protect her, comfort her. Only she didn't want him to. And he had to respect that.

  He tried hard to see her, frustrated by the heavy black­ ness that pressed upon them. He thought she was hug­ ging her knees, perhaps literally holding herself together.

  Casting about in his mind for a topic of conversation that might distract her from their predicament, he found nothing but a yawning blank. All coherent thought seemed to have deserted him.

  Then into the darkness she said, 'I'm going to give evidence against Doctor Dodd.'

  Jolted, he said, 'You are?'

  'I went to the police and told them...everything. You were right, I have to do it.'

  Gabriel swallowed. That must have been hellishly dif­ ficult. And he hadn't been here. 'When is the case?'

  'Next week.'

  'I'll come with you.'

  'No.'

  Something in his chest ached, tightly. 'Do you have someone?'

  'I have to do this on my own.'

  'Why?'

  She was quiet for a long time, so that he thought she wasn't going to answer. When she did speak, it didn't seem to have anything to do with the question.

  Into the darkness, she said, 'Five years ago, I was kidnapped.'

  Of all the possibilities he had imagined, that one hadn't entered his mind. 'Kidnapped?' He had to do some radical adjustment to his thinking. From what she'd said, he didn't think her family had been wealthy. 'Was it a hostage situation?'

  'No.' She was silent for so long he thought she wasn't going to say any more, but apparently she'd been gath­ ering her thoughts. At last she said, 'I knew him, from one of my classes at university. He asked me out a cou­ ple of times, and he was quite nice, but the third time I turned him down.'

  She paused again and Gabriel dared to ask, 'Why?'

  'He was so intense...it made me uncomfortable. He told me he'd watched me for ages before plucking up the nerve to ask me out. And he said such extravagant things...about how he'd waited for me all his life, and how he'd never look at another woman. At first I laughed, but he got offended. I was a late starter in one- on-one relationships, concentrated on my studies all through school, and it was my first uni year. I couldn't cope with that kind of...obsession.'

  'So you broke it off. The sensible thing to do.'

  'Yes. Then I lost my mother, and he was so sympa­ thetic—kind, very helpful. He'd lost his when he was a kid, and he seemed to understand. Somehow...we drifted into a sort of girlfriend/boyfriend relationship.'

  'And then...?' Gabriel prompted quietly.

  'He became gradually more and more possessive. I couldn't go anywhere, see anyone—even my girl­ friends—without him checking up on me. It wasn't healthy, and in the end I couldn't stand it. But he wouldn't get out of my life. He began sending me long, rambling love letters, and flowers—huge, expensive bouquets. Almost every day. He'd hang around after my classes, until one day I yelled at him to leave me alone.

  He phoned that night and told me off for speaking to him like that in front of other people, but he didn't ap­proach me again, and the flowers stopped. He'd loiter at a distance and watch, instead. Then the silent phone calls began. I knew it was him, but he never spoke.'

  'Did you go to the police?'

  'I didn't think that was warranted. He'd never threat­ ened me in any way, and I thought if I kept ignoring him he'd give up.'

  'But he didn't.'

  'After a lecture one night he stopped me. He said he realised he'd been stupid, apologised for embarrassing me, and told me he'd like to explain. I said there was no need, but I let him persuade me to have a coffee with him, I suppose because I felt a bit guilty and sorry for him, and he said first he'd got to get his jacket from his car. I walked there with him. He'd parked under a t
ree, and he opened the luggage compartment and fished around with one hand, then asked me to hold up the lid because the hinge was broken. The next thing I knew he'd shoved me in there and locked it. It was so quick- he had it all planned. There were people about, but I don't think anyone saw a thing. I didn't even have time to scream.'

  Gabriel felt every muscle tighten. She was reciting all this with determined calm, her voice so flat it was almost emotionless. But she must have been petrified. 'Where did he take you?'

  'He had this place out in the bush, though I had no idea where we were when he finally let me out and hus­ tled me into it—an old house, no neighbours. At one time it was a farmhouse, but the land around had re verted to trees and scrub, and no one had lived there for ages. He said we were meant for each other and we needed time together.'

  Gabriel started to speak, and found there was an ob­ struction in his throat. 'How long did he keep you there?'

  'Six days. It's not long really, but it seemed a life­ time.'

  'It must have.' She wouldn't have known how long it would last, or what the man was likely to do to her.

  'The first night, neither of us slept. He didn't...molest me, just kept saying over and over that we belonged together and that this was a time-out to give me a chance to realise it, without distractions. I tried to reason with him, argued, pleaded, shouted, threatened him with the police. Told him he had to take me home, or at least back to the city somewhere, promised I wouldn't tell anyone. He just went on being patient.'

  'Patient!' Gabriel exploded.

  'Never raised his voice. But then I said I had to go to the toilet and I took the louvres out of the window and got out. He came after me and...'

  Gabriel's skin crawled. 'What?'

  'There was a shipping container at the back of the house. I suppose someone had brought it in to use as a storage shed or something. It had a padlock.'

  'He locked you in?'

  'He kept on going in to university. Every day he left me —with food and drink, a mattress...and a bucket. It was hot in the daytime, but there were overhanging trees so it didn't get direct sun. He'd bored tiny airholes in the sides. He told me it was just until I came to my senses and realised we were meant to be together. But it was dark, except for the little bit of light that came in through those holes. And so small.'

  About the size of an elevator, Gabriel thought, swal­lowing.

  'He brought me roses,' she said, hushed. 'Red roses. Every day. I've never forgotten the scent. He'd make dinner and then take me into the house, and we'd have a meal together, with a fresh bouquet of roses on the table. It was bizarre.'

  That was putting it mildly. 'It was sick!'

  'He was sick. He's in a secure mental facility now.'

  The best place for him, Gabriel thought. And the saf­ est. Sick or not, if Gabriel ever ran up against him he'd have trouble keeping himself from smashing the guy's face.

  'He never took his eyes off me until he needed to sleep. Then he'd.. .politely ask me to go to bed with him, and when I said no, he'd shake his head sadly and take me back to the container. One night I actually said yes, hoping to catch him off guard somehow and take his car keys, get away. I was even prepared to have sex with him, wait for him to go to sleep before I sneaked out, but then, what if he just locked me up again afterwards? And when we were in bed, I found I couldn't go through with it anyway, and fought him off. That was the only time he was angry. He dragged me back to the container naked, and...the next day he didn't leave me any food.'

  Gabriel uncurled his fingers, flexing them. He had to fight a renewed wave of nausea. 'How did you get away?'

  'My grandmother had reported me missing, and my friends told the police what had been going on. Thank God they took it seriously. They questioned him, and later followed him when he left the university. They were watching when he unlocked the container, but...'

  The silence almost breathed. Gabriel stirred, contain­ ing his instinct to go to her. 'What then?'

  'They were armed. He had a knife. He said he'd kill us both if they tried to take me from him. He meant it,' she added starkly. "They didn't dare to approach him. He pulled us both into the container and closed the door. We were in there for hours, while he kept watch from the air holes.'

  Gabriel closed his eyes, squeezing them shut. He un­damped tight lips. 'No wonder you don't like confined spaces.'

  'Not my favourite thing,' she agreed huskily. 'By that time he was beyond reason. In the end I lied to him, said I realised now he really loved me, and he'd per­ suaded me we did belong together for all eternity. Ev­ erything he'd said. I said I wanted to marry him, there and then. Told him if we were married I couldn't testify against him and the police couldn't hold him, so we...could still be together.'

  'That isn't true anymore, is it?'

  'I don't think so, but he accepted it. I suppose because he wanted to believe I...loved him. He asked for a min­ister. They said they'd get one, and sent in a policeman wearing a dog-collar.'

  Gabriel let out a breath. 'You weren't hurt?'

  'No. They grabbed him and it was all over.'

  Except for the trauma she'd suffered. Posttraumatic stress, they called it. She must have had a doozy of a dose.

  'That's why you needed counselling,' he said. 'Yes. And Doctor Dodd helped me a lot, at first. I was in such a mess I couldn't even walk down the street alone. Getting into an elevator was impossible. I slept with the light on for months. Being alone with a man-even a doctor—freaked me out. My grandmother came to all my appointments until I trusted him enough to do without her.'

  Rhiannon paused, and Gabriel said harshly, 'And then he betrayed you.'

  'I'd been seeing him for months. He was my lifeline to sanity and normality. He began by just holding my hand, saying I needed to get used to normal touching. It made sense. Then he'd stroke my hands, my arms, my hair, my neck. I didn't like it but he was so persuasive... I thought I had to get used to it, that it was a necessary part of my therapy.'

  Gabriel muttered a forceful word under his breath. 'When he touched me in other places, I could scarcely believe what he was doing. When I challenged him he said I was suffering from sex-based trauma—frigidity— and with my consent to treatment he could help me. Fortunately I had enough sense to recognise his argu­ ments for what they were. I knew what he was doing was wrong.'

  'Even if you had consented, it would still be rape.' 'I know. But you see...'

  'You decided not to trust anyone, not to ask anyone for support or help, because you were afraid they'd let you down.'

  'Something like that,' she agreed, her voice a whisper.

  'You trusted your grandmother.'

  'Of course I did!'

  'But she died—left you.'

  'She couldn't help it!'

  'Your mother died, too—and your father can't be a father to you anymore.'

  'What are you trying to say?'

  'You won't allow yourself to depend on anyone. It wasn't only Dodd—everyone you depended on aban­ doned you, one way or another.'

  'They didn't abandon me! I wasn't a child!'

  'You were seventeen—not an adult. You're afraid to lean on anyone—that's why you won't let me get close. While my brother's wife and I were sitting by his bed­ side, I did as much leaning as she did, Rhiannon. We supported each other, and when my mother came we all cried in each other's arms.'

  'You're family. I don't have a family anymore. It's not the same. I can't expect that of anyone.'

  'You could. I love you, Rhiannon. I want to marry you, and live happily ever after with you. I can't promise not to die, but as long as I live, I want to be the person you give your support to, the way you did tonight when I came up the stairs to you and you understood without words, gave me what I needed. And the person who supports you when you need it.'

  She didn't speak for so long he couldn't hold his tongue any longer. 'Rhiannon?'

  After a little pause she said, 'You know what? I am cold now.'
'Come here,' he said, slipping off his jacket.

  It was a moment before he discerned the faint blur of movement. Then the shadows stirred, and she was beside him, the scent of her rising subtly to his nostrils. He arranged the jacket like a blanket over her shoulders, slid an arm about her and pulled her closer to him, his arms loosely cradling her as she nestled against his chest.

  'Won't you be cold?' she asked doubtfully.

  'Not as long as you stay right here,' he answered.

  Right here where she belonged

  CHAPTER TEN

  Rhiannon was suddenly very tired. Gabriel's body was warm at her back, his arms wrapped around her. Despite being trapped in a situation that had brought back her worst nightmares, she felt safe now. Secure.

  'I love you, Gabriel,' she said, and felt his arms tighten, his breath stop. 'I've been in love with you for ages, but I wasn't brave enough—or whole enough—to take that step in the dark. I was so afraid that if I loved you and you left me, I'd be right back where I'd been after...all that happened years ago. I wanted to love you as you deserve to be loved, as I deserve to love. Like a strong, free woman—a woman who doesn't need a prop or a guardian angel. That's what gave me the courage to go to the police about Gerald Dodd. I know it will break my heart if you leave me, that life will never be as perfect again, but I'll survive even that.'

  'I'll never leave you,' he told her huskily, his cheek against her hair. 'Never voluntarily. Wherever I am, even if I die, I'll be with you always, I swear.'

  He shifted their position so that he could reach her mouth, and seal it with a long, sweet kiss. 'You haven't said yes,' he reminded her. 'Will you marry me?'

  'Yes,' she said. 'Just as soon as we get out of this damned lift.'

  Rhiannon was dozing against Gabriel's shoulder when the light nickered on and the elevator began to move. It stopped as if nothing had ever gone wrong, and the doors slid open to reveal Mick, wearing baggy sweats instead of his uniform, and an anxious expression. 'You okay?' he queried them as they scrambled to their feet. 'Some dumb ass cut through the cables.'

  Gabriel tucked his arm about Rhiannon and they stepped onto the carpeted floor. 'I've never been so okay in my life.'