She’d have to be smarter. But what could she do?
“Why did you bring me here?” She tried to keep the rising terror from her tone.
“You are mine. We belong together.”
She stared at him, quailing at the implication. Then a renewed resolve flooded her. She’d go along with him for now and watch for an opportunity to escape.
He grasped her hand and led her to the wedding dress. Taking the white satin gown off the hanger, he held it in front of her with cold, assessing eyes, and a sad smile touching his lips. “Do you know how long I’ve waited to see you in this dress again?”
She looked from him to the wedding gown. “I don’t understand,” she whispered, her voice taut with unshed tears.
“You and I are getting married.”
“I’m already married.”
He ignored her claim, thrust the dress into her arms and pointed to the bathroom. “Go change.” The coolness of his tone hinted at more violent designs. “And don’t bother trying to escape through the window. I nailed it shut.”
With numb fingers and a shattered heart, she accepted the dress. If he intended for them to marry, he’d have to bring in a minister, a judge or a justice of the peace. Forcing patience, she pretended to yield to him now, but vowed not to give up.
She changed slowly, realizing Fred must have taken Gran’s key, removed the clothes and the old mirror from storage in the past few days and brought the items here. After months stalking her, he’d coordinated his kidnapping with the tenants’ vacation. Why had he gone to so much trouble? If they were going to marry, the clothes made a weird kind of sense. But why had he taken the heavy antique mirror out of storage?
The oval mirror was big enough to reflect two people from head to toe. The polished mahogany frame was dust free, and the faint scent of lemon wax revealed he’d taken special care with the antique. Why was he doing this?
Frantic for a way to defend herself, she searched the bathroom for a weapon but found nothing heavier than a shower curtain. The curtain rod wouldn’t disengage from the wall without tools. She saw no sign of a plunger.
“Hurry up.”
Fearful he’d barge inside if she didn’t follow instructions, she hurried into the wedding dress. The off-the-shoulder gown was three inches too short and tight at the bustline, but she managed to do up the zipper.
The instant she opened the door, Fred grabbed her hands. He’d changed into her father’s suit.
“What are you doing?” Despite her resolve to remain calm, her voice rose in alarm. For an answer, he whipped a thin cord out of her father’s suit pocket. Terror tightened her throat and chest. Overwhelming helplessness struck her. “You don’t need to tie me. Please, I’ll do what you want.”
He hesitated, and a husky note of longing crept into his voice. “When we were six years old, I found a stack of pretty papers in the attic. The borders reminded me of play money.”
He looked as if he expected her to understand, but she was completely bewildered. Just keep him talking. “Was it play money?”
“Of course not. I found the stock certificates.”
She gasped, and he shot her a triumphant glance. “It wasn’t until high school that I figured out their value, so I buried the stock under the playhouse. I’d wanted to give it to you as a gift on our wedding night.”
She didn’t like the way he uttered that last sentence in the past tense. She tried to jerk her hands from his. He held tight, lapsing into tense silence.
She swallowed hard, her knees trembling. “Just tell me what you want. I’ll do whatever you say.”
Her words elicited no reaction. He just looked at her with big, sad eyes. His strong hands kept her wrists together. She struggled but couldn’t break free of his relentless hold or stop him from repeatedly encircling her wrists with the cord.
Anger stirred within her that he’d wrecked her life over a meaningless childhood promise. Drawing a mask of calm over her features, she thought fast. What would change his mind until she could get help? “We could marry, and you could still give me the stock as a wedding present.”
A fleeting look of pain lanced through his eyes. “It’s too late. The money doesn’t matter. It would be humiliating to buy your love.”
Icy panic engulfed her. All her doubts and fears merged into one loathsome instant of comprehension. He was going to kill her in her mother’s wedding dress.
She opened her mouth to scream. He slapped a piece of wide mailing tape over her lips and drew his mouth into a ruthless and grim line.
She fought with all her strength, twisting, elbowing, kicking, until the fear and anger had drained out of her, leaving nothing but a hollow, agonizing void. Despite her efforts, he tied her wrists so tightly her fingers became numb.
Not yet through with her, he dragged her in front of the mirror. Gently, he smoothed back her hair. “As children, we married. We shall become husband and wife again.”
Frantic sounds emerged from the back of her throat. If only she could talk to him.
He backed her against the mirror, raised her arms over her head and hooked her bound hands over a post on the frame. He left her on her toes, stretched out, helpless. She tried jumping but had no leverage to lift herself up. Perhaps she could tip the mirror. She tugged hard, throwing her weight into the movement, ignoring the cord slicing painfully into the flesh at her wrists. The heavy mirror didn’t budge.
Fred returned from the kitchen a moment later. With a strangely intent expression, he held up a long, thin carving knife. “After we marry, I will send you to Heaven.”
His voice sounded normal. His brown eyes didn’t look mad, but sorrowful as if he didn’t want to kill her. When had Fred become a fanatic? If only she could talk to him.
“The angels,” he continued, “will watch over you, keep you from running off with other men and having their babies. I know you are a good girl. Death will make you pure.” He raised the knife, and she steeled herself for pain. But he set down the weapon and reached for a prayer book, tears in the depths of his tormented brown eyes. “Now we will marry.”
She didn’t listen as he prayed, droning on and on. If these were her last moments, she wanted to spend them thinking of Craig. Her throat tightened with longing. She couldn’t bear that the babies’ lives would end before they’d been born. With an agonizing shudder, she shoved the thought aside.
Instead, she recalled Craig’s strong arms around her, his wonderful kisses and how much she loved him. She yearned for just one more minute with him to tell him what he meant to her, to tell him how sorry she was they wouldn’t have more time.
Fred put down the prayer book. He picked up the knife.
Bianca closed her eyes.
CRAIG DIDN’T KNOCK. He kicked in Gran’s front door and flung himself inside.
Fred cursed and threw the knife at Craig’s head. Ducking, Craig somersaulted, hit the bare floor with a crash and rolled. Only quick reflexes saved him from the expertly thrown knife.
One glance at Bianca in a wedding dress tied to that mirror, and Craig exploded with fiery red fury. Before Craig regained his feet, Fred charged. Locked in a deadly embrace, the two men tumbled across the floor.
Fred jabbed him in the stomach with an elbow. Fire seared his midsection. Craig thrust a knee into his adversary’s groin and grimaced in satisfaction as the other man’s grip weakened.
“She’s mine,” Fred shouted. “She’s always been mine.”
Craig didn’t waste breath arguing. He wrapped an arm around Fred’s neck. Before he could tighten his hold, Fred back-fisted his temple. For an instant, everything turned black.
Craig’s momentary blackout weakened him. Fred wriggled and crawled toward Bianca and the knife.
No! He had to save Bianca.
Drumming up anger, but with on
ly partial vision restored, he lunged after Fred. Missed. Craig’s rage smoldered at his failure.
Fred’s hand closed over the knife. He was shoving to his feet with the weapon ready to stab and slice.
God, no! Craig couldn’t reach Fred in time to stop him. “Bianca!”
White satin flapped. Bianca’s dress. Uttering a furious grunt, she’d kicked Fred’s hand.
Smart girl. Relief flared in Craig as the knife skittered away. She’d bought him another chance.
Craig grabbed Fred’s head near his ears. With a gathering of abused muscles and superhuman determination, he twisted Fred off balance, slammed the man to the floor. With an audible crack, Fred’s neck snapped.
He didn’t move.
He’d never bother Bianca again.
His head ringing, Craig staggered to his feet. He winced at the pain in his side. “Bianca, are you all right?”
She nodded vigorously. Joyous tears fell from her eyes.
Effortlessly, he grasped her by her slender waist and lifted her until her hands were free of the post. He set her on her feet and untied her wrists.
She ripped the tape from her lips before she collapsed against his chest. “I never thought I’d see you again.”
“I should never have left you alone.”
“It wasn’t your fault. Fred was . . . sick.” She shuddered. “He expected me to—”
“Shh.” He silenced her with a gently placed finger on her lips. “It’s okay. He’s never going to hurt anyone again.”
After the police left and the ambulance had taken away Fred’s body, they walked outside into the California sunshine. Dogs barked. A woman strolled behind a baby carriage. The normalcy seemed odd after what had just occurred.
“Hold me.”
Craig clasped Bianca’s shoulders and looked into her precious face. He’d almost lost her. Silently, he vowed never to take her for granted. “You’re safe now.”
“It’s hard to believe. I think it will take some getting used to.”
“That’s not all you have to get used to.” He wrapped his arms around her. “I wanted you from the moment I saw you in black leather. It didn’t take long to fall in love with you.”
Her eyes widened. “You love me?”
“I do.”
“When did you know?”
A smile teased his lips. “I loved you long before I learned your hair color. Or your name.”
“That’s hard to believe.”
“That’s why I was so angry when you lied to me. I couldn’t believe the woman I loved would do such a thing.”
“I did it before you loved me,” she reminded him.
“I love you. I want to marry you.” He tightened his embrace. “That’s why I was late. I stopped to buy you a ring. When you disappeared with Fred, I thought I had lost you.”
She wound her arms around his neck, tilted her head back and looked straight at him. “We have the rest of our lives to sort out details. Kiss me.”
And he did.
Epilogue
“I CAN’T BELIEVE how much Jason eats,” Bianca told Craig after their son finished the bottle.
“If you cuddled me that close when I ate, I’d eat a lot, too.” Craig stopped digging and leaned on the shovel. His devastating smile pierced her with happiness. With his chest bare, muscles rippling with a light sheen of sweat, and his dark hair slicked back except for one stubborn lock that fell onto his forehead, he looked quite the hunk. He could have posed for bachelor of the year, except for two not-so-minor details. One being his children—Jason, who was cradled in Bianca’s arms, and his sister, Linda, in a pink lace bonnet, who was cooing happily in a playpen close by.
Two being Craig was already taken. They’d married months before the twins arrived. As she burped Jason, Bianca smiled contentedly. She had everything she’d ever wanted. Craig had seen to that.
He’d hired a nanny for the children so she could attend classes. Once she passed the bar exam, she would have a career waiting whenever she chose to accept Harry’s offer. But she was in no hurry. The babies were darlings, and she didn’t like missing too much of their growing up.
In addition she’d gained brothers and sisters-in-law. Craig was now calling and texting Max and Ford regularly. His parents visited often. And their twins had cousins to play with. Gran was doing well, and the entire clan was getting together for the holidays.
Her life was full. Her heart was full.
As much as she enjoyed the entire Braddack family, she also enjoyed having Craig alone.
She was in no hurry for him to finish digging up the ground beneath the playhouse, either. Not when he looked so scrumptious and she had nothing else to do but ogle. Another hour or so of watching him work could be more than pleasurable.
Oh, yes. She was one lucky woman because Craig Braddack was the kind of man of her dreams. Kind, honest and committed. And a great father.
He also made her feel special, especially when he looked across the yard and warmed her with one hot look. Oh, yeah, Gran had been right about Craig. He was a good man, a terrific husband.
And he liked talking to her, deciding things together.
Bianca had feared that if they didn’t find the missing stock certificates on the first try, the tenants might start searching, so they’d waited until the renters moved out before returning to look for them. Craig had brought her a lounge chair, insisting she nap. But between the squirming baby in her arms and his handsome father, the last thing she wanted was to sleep.
At the sound of a thunk, she placed Jason in the playpen and wandered closer to Craig. “Find anything?”
“Maybe.”
Her voice rose in excitement. “I see metal.”
He reached into the hole and scraped dirt off a container. “Something’s down there.” His teasing eyes glinted in the sunlight. “You sure you want me to keep digging?”
For an answer, she reached out and lightly pinched his butt. “Back to work, mister.”
“Yes, ma’am. But I do earn a bonus for all this manual labor, don’t I?”
She raised her brows. “What kind of bonus did you have in mind?”
“I’ll leave that to your imagination.” Craig went back to digging. A few minutes later, he uncovered an old pretzel can. “Don’t get your hopes up. It’s rusted through.”
Bianca kneeled down and eased off the lid. Inside the can was a plastic bag. She handed it to Craig and then dusted off her hands. “You open it. I’m too nervous.”
Craig’s face remained expressionless as he looked inside.
“Well?”
He grinned. “It’s shares of Apple. Over twenty-plus years, the stock has appreciated considerably. I’d say you and Uncle Bob have just become wealthy.”
She looked up at his teasing smile, planning just how to give him that bonus after the twins went into their cribs for their afternoon nap. “I was already wealthy. I have the twins, and I have you.”
“That’s right.” He leaned over to kiss her, his eyes glimmering with heat. “And don’t you forget it.”
The End
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(Please continue reading for an excerpt of Kiss Me Deadly)
Kiss Me Deadly
Excerpt
Chapter One
MANDY NEWMAN glanced in her rearview mirror at the pickup truck that had swung around the corner to hug her rear bumper. What was up with him? This same truck had been following her since she’d left her parking garage. Now he was close. Too close.
There was no telling if the tailgater was a drunk or simply a lousy driver, but a rear-end collision wasn’t on her to-do list today. Neither was coping with the rain that made the oil-slick street treacherous. But considering that the Sunshine State’s daily afternoon showers were a fact of life during the summer rainy season, the other driver ought to know better than to follow so close.
Another glance revealed the pickup was still sticking to her rear bumper like a sandspur, the driver revving his motor as if bent on making her sweat. Why wasn’t he hitting his brake, backing off, giving her maneuvering room? Perspiration trickled down her neck, and Mandy flicked up the AC. Fog cleared from her windows. But he was still there.
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