Taming His Wild Girl (Wild Whip Ranch Book 2)

by Lee Savino

  Beep!

  I jumped, my eyes flying to the rearview mirror. There was a gap of twenty yards in front of me. I pressed on the gas, and crept forward. My leg was aching. I clenched my hand on the steering wheel to keep from rubbing it. It didn’t really ache, not really. It was ghost pain.

  I focused my attention on the radio again. The new reporter’s voice droned:

  “Early reports indicate that there are no fatalities or serious injuries, but police predict that it may be another hour before the blockage is cleared from Highway One, westbound.”

  No fatalities. My heart quit hammering.

  I inched forward and forward as the minutes ticked by. Vehicles around me were getting impatient. Some people were hanging out of their windows; others were getting out of their vehicles and stretching their legs. I stayed right where I was, palms sweating, heart pounding. How far had I moved? I looked for markers along the highway—trees, road signs. And then the traffic began to move a little faster. There were a bunch of traffic cones, then two cops directing the flow of traffic into a single lane. Then a semi on the side of the road, along with four cars. I forced myself to look. None of them was badly crumpled. No ambulance. Just three fire trucks on standby.

  Beep! went the car behind me again. The road ahead was clear. I pressed on the gas, and shot forward.

  Fifteen minutes until I was due to meet Anton, and I had a real bad feeling.

  There—a sign: Vancouver International Airport, 90km. Shit. No way could anyone do 90 km in less than an hour. Least of all me with my rudimentary driving skills. I drove faster and faster, skin prickling with adrenaline. The aircon was on high, but sweat was running between my shoulder blades and into my cleavage. What if I’m late? Will they cut me a little slack? Would they have heard about the pileup on the highway?

  Is there an assassin waiting on the ranch, ready to put a gun to Joel’s head if I’m late? Why don’t I know Joel’s number? I slammed my hands on the steering wheel. I could have stopped at the payphone and called him. You should know the phone number of the people you love. Just in case.

  “Please, please, let him be safe,” I muttered. If Joel was in danger, then all this sacrifice, all this heartache, was in vain.

  One hour and three minutes later, I screeched into the short-stay parking lot of Vancouver Airport. I burst out of the car, grabbed my suitcase, and looked around wildly, heart hammering.

  Meet me at the airport, Anton had said. That was all he had said, right?

  Maybe he’d issued some more instructions in the messages that I’d failed to see, because they were still in the bedroom at Joel’s place. I looked around desperately. I would be getting on a plane. That was obvious. As much as I wanted to pretend it wasn’t true, there were zero other reasons why I would be here. My legs felt like lead, but I forced them to move, to run toward the sign that read: Departures.

  A set of double doors slid open as I approached, and then I was in a vast, gleaming space, people rushing around in all directions.

  And there, in the middle of the room, was a man wearing a shiny black suit, with a bunch of flowers stuffed under his arm, and his face contorted with fury.

  My stomach plummeted like an elevator in freefall.

  Anton charged toward me, eyes blazing. “I told you to be here fucking hours ago,” he growled.

  I looked into the face that I’d hoped I’d never have to see again, and everything from the strip club flooded back. How he’d groped me so many times, his dirty fingers on my boobs, my ass, ferreting along the crack of my butt, like I was a piece of meat that he owned.

  “I-I’m so sorry,” I stammered. “There was an accident on the highway. You can even see it on the news. But I’m here now. I’m yours.” I forced the words out, even though bile rose in my throat, choking me.

  To my absolute relief, he broke into a smile. “You are mine, baby girl. And very soon, you will be my wife. My lawyer is already serving divorce papers to that cowboy husband of yours. We will be together legally. And everything that is yours will become mine, and we will be very happy together.”

  I forced myself to breathe slowly. If I didn’t, I knew I’d pass out.

  “So, why the airport?” I said nonchalantly.

  He brought his hands together with a clap, as he often did when he was excited. “Because we’re going on a very special vacation. I won’t tell you the final destination, because I don’t want to ruin the surprise. Here—” He thrust the flowers at me. They looked kind of dead. I wasn’t surprised; Anton had a tendency to destroy everything he touched.

  “Our flight is leaving in an hour. Let’s go.” He grabbed me by the arm and began to haul me.

  “But, wait—”

  “What?” All signs of merriment disappeared as that vicious look filled his eyes again.

  “What about Joel?”

  He gave a nasty smile. “What about him?”

  “You said—if I came here…”

  “Oh.” He made a big show of remembering. “Yes, I said that the cowboy would be allowed to walk away with his life. I gave you my word. And so he will. My lawyer will present him with divorce papers. And as long as he agrees, then he will live. And he will not be hurt.”

  I tugged away from him instinctively. “How can I trust you?”

  He plucked at his beard. “I’m a man of my word, Tinkerbell. I have already proved that. I said there was no way you are getting away from me. And look what happened.” He broke into a horrible, cackling laugh.

  I stared at him in dismay. He did have a point, I guessed.

  “Tell me one more time—you won’t hurt Joel,” I demanded, tears pricking at the backs of my eyes.

  He clenched his teeth, nostrils flaring. “Now, stop making a scene, Tinkerbell. People are staring. I will not hurt Joel. I do not give a shit about him. He is a minnow. Now, let’s go.” His fingers dug into my arm, hard.

  I quit struggling and let myself be dragged along, feeling like I was trudging through cement. I followed Anton’s instructions like an automaton; lined up at the Air Canada desk, handed over my passport.

  “Okay, your baggage is checked right through,” the clerk said cheerfully. “Final destination—uh—Tirana.”

  Tirana. She’d stumbled over it a little. Sounded like a place they didn’t come across too often. Was that in Albania? Most likely. I accepted the boarding pass, and Anton kept an iron grip on me while I stumbled through security and all the way to boarding gate forty-three.

  As we arrived at a wall of windows that looked out onto the airfield, the full horror of my predicament welled up in me. I was being dragged off to a country I’d barely heard of with an evil mafia thug who was going to use me exactly as he wanted.

  I couldn’t stop my tears any longer, and they coursed down my cheeks. I tried to wipe them away with the back of my hand, but not before Anton had noticed.

  “Stop with this pathetic emotion,” he growled. “Before I drag you to the restroom and give you something to cry about.” He indicated something in the distance, and I followed his gaze. It was an accessible restroom—plenty of space for a girl to get the crap beaten out of her by her violent abductor. As usual, he meant what he said.

  There was a flash of green on the screen above the gate. Gate open, it said.

  “Good afternoon,” came the boarding clerk’s voice. “Welcome to flight 1372 to Chicago O’Hare International Airport.”

  Another wave of horror knocked me sideways. This was really happening.

  “We would like to welcome our business class passengers first.”

  “Come on.” Anton led me by the elbow.

  Business class, my ass. Guess they didn’t have a special compartment for vicious thugs.

  In a flash, I was on the plane, in a luxurious seat, with a glass of champagne in front of me. An announcement came that boarding had been completed, and the plane’s engines roared. We were moving.

  I stared out the window as industrial Vancouver passed by, knowi
ng I was going to my death—or something a lot like it.

  At least Joel will be safe, I told myself over and over. That was what mattered. He wasn’t screwed up like me. He deserved to live a good, happy life. I knew I’d hurt him badly, but he’d get over me one day. Find a nice, normal girl to live with. Make some beautiful children.

  I squeezed my eyes shut to stop the fresh flood of tears. The airplane turned and turned, and then it entered the runway. I bit down on my lower lip.

  “Scared of flying, babygirl?” came Anton’s broken English beside me.

  “Yup,” I managed to say. “That’s it.”

  He chuckled indulgently, and took my hand. I forced myself not to pull away. The plane gathered speed, and I closed my eyes again. The jet engines got louder, preparing for takeoff. There was a sensation of uplift. And…

  Ping! went an alarm somewhere. My eyes flew open. Huh? What happened? Are we slowing?

  The plane slowed and slowed, and then it turned and started trundling along again.

  “What the fuck is happening?” Anton muttered.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, I’m afraid there has been a technical fault. We need to return to the gate, but we hope this will only be a short delay,” came the cheerful announcement. I stared out of the window confusedly. There was a blue light in the distance, then another one. Two white and blue vehicles were speeding towards us, lights flashing on top. What kind of technical fault?

  They drove right up, then they disappeared from view. There was a lot of activity among the flight attendants, then a bunch of beeping, and the airplane’s front door opened.

  Three people boarded, and began striding down the aisle. Police? I thought. And the thought was barely formed before one of them was right beside Anton.

  “Anton Mehmeti?”

  “Yes, how can I help you?” Anton said calmly.

  “Anton Mehmeti, you are under arrest for kidnapping and extortion. Please stand up and turn around.”

  “I don’t understand.” Anton’s voice remained calm, but I sensed something new in it—fear?

  “Please stand up, or you will be removed by force,” the cop continued. He had a hard, uncompromising look on his face. He also looked kind of familiar. Where had I seen him before?

  With a grunt, Anton stood up, and the cop grabbed him by the shoulders, spun him around, and suddenly his hands were yanked behind his back and a pair of handcuffs were snapped on.

  I watched, stunned, as Anton was handed to another cop and escorted off the plane.

  “Isabelle Stevens?” said the cop to me.

  “Y-yes?” I stuttered.

  “It’s over. You’re safe now. Come on.”

  I didn’t need to be told twice. I leaped to my feet and stumbled along the aisle, following his broad back. A set of steps had been attached to the exit of the plane, and I staggered down them on wobbly legs.

  I was concentrating so hard on not tripping that I didn’t look up until I got onto the tarmac again. There was a very familiar pair of dark brown cowboy boots in front of me, and I looked up into the most handsome, loving face I’d seen in my life.

  “Joel!” I screamed, and ran to him.

  His arms opened wide, and a split-second later, I was pressed against his chest while he held me tight… tight.

  “You’re safe now,” he said into my ear, smelling wonderfully of himself. “You’re safe.”

  “I’m so sorry, Joel.” I looked up at him, but I was crying so hard, I could barely see his face through my tears. “I didn’t want to leave you. I love you.”

  He gave a choked kind of laugh. “Oh, Isabelle, I love you too. So much.”

  “You do?”

  “Of course.”

  “I didn’t want to be away from you, even for a second.”

  His voice turned stern. “You shouldn’t have done this. I know you were trying to protect me, but it was very dangerous.”

  “I felt like it was the only thing I could do.”

  “You should have told me.” He began walking me across the tarmac toward the airport. Holding me safe in his arms.

  “I left my phone, didn’t I?” I said.

  “Yup. It was under the bed. Took me a hell of a long time to find it. It was lucky I was lying on the bed when one of this asshole’s messages went off.”

  “Lying on the bed? But why?” I snuffled through my tears.

  He looked a little shamefaced. “I was just having a little… emotional breakdown, I guess.”

  I stopped dead, and looked into his eyes. He was serious for once. Not exaggerating, not playing around.

  “You were having a breakdown because I left?”

  “Yes, Isabelle. I’m in love with you. The thought of you leaving tore me apart.”

  “Oh, Joel—” I clapped my hand over my mouth. “I’m not good enough for you.”

  His jaw flexed. “I never want to hear you say anything like that again. You’re the best thing that ever happened to me. And more. You really have no idea how special you are.”

  He removed my hand from my mouth, and replaced it with his lips.

  He kissed me long, deep, and tender. Like before. But better. Because now I knew he loved me, and I’d told him how much I loved him, too.

  I had no sense of time passing. I forgot about everything—the fact we were out on an airport runway. The roaring of planes around us. The distant sound of sirens. All I was aware of was that the man I loved was kissing me like our souls were one.

  Abruptly, the siren got louder, and we drew apart. At that exact moment, I happened to catch sight of a miserable face in the back of a cop car. A miserable face with a ludicrous manicured beard and evil, black eyes.

  Joel pulled me away. “You won’t ever need to worry about him again,” he said.

  I shivered, and Joel held me closer.

  “But what happened?”

  “I’ll tell you all about it. First, let’s get you home.”

  As much as I wanted to get home, it was too far to go without a meal, so we stopped at a diner. We sat together on the same side of the booth, me practically in Joel’s lap. I didn’t want an inch of separation between me and Joel. My rescuer. My husband.

  While he fed me blueberry pancakes, we pieced together everything that had happened. When I discovered how the thugs had gotten Joel’s photo, I clapped a hand over my mouth. “Oh my God,” I muttered. “You didn’t?”

  “I was doing my best to protect you, baby.” He clasped my hand in his massive one. “I hoped it would scare them off. Send a message that you had been claimed already.”

  I swallowed hard. “I was so, so scared for you. Anton said he knew where we lived, and he was going to kill you if I didn’t meet him when I was supposed to. I thought he had some of his thugs at the ranch, waiting for you.”

  Joel shook his head. “There’s no way the dogs would have let them get close. They may look like a bunch of mutts to you, but they’re highly-trained machines, capable of sniffing out thugs from a thousand paces.”

  I blinked, unsure whether he was joking or not.

  “But how—how did you get here so fast?”

  “Oh, courtesy of the Royal Canadian Mounted Police. And a chopper.”

  I gasped. “What? They brought you here in a helicopter? To rescue me? But I—”

  I’m not important enough, was the thought I didn’t finish.

  Joel cleared his throat. “I didn’t have a chance to tell you earlier, but I went to see my buddies at the cop station this morning. Dave and Trey.”

  “Oh—I thought I recognized the guy who arrested Anton.”

  “Yup, Dave.” Joel nodded. “It turns out they’ve had their eye on the Albanian mafia for a long time, and were just looking for an in.”

  He explained the whole thing—how they’d asked if I could testify, or at least provide them with some information, while I stared at him, stunned.

  “And now?” I said.

  “Now, Anton has been arrested for kidnapping and e
nslavement. That’s a really serious offence, and they’ll be able to get a warrant to search the strip club. Dave and his colleagues in Vancouver are confident that all of them are gonna go down. That means it’s over, Isabelle. You’re safe.”

  “We’re safe?” I echoed. I took a deep breath, which shuddered through my ribcage. “Are you sure?”

  “Dave has information that Anton’s father is the head of the biggest Albanian crime syndicate.”

  “Elio?” I murmured.

  Joel shrugged. “Guess so.”

  “Living in that podunk little town?”

  Joel shrugged. “Staying under the radar, because it turns out he’s wanted in several countries, including Albania.”

  “That’s why Anton’s mother lives in Albania, and maybe why Anton was trying to drag me over there…” I trailed off. There was no point trying to understand how those thugs’ minds worked.

  “The Mounties are on their way to arrest Elio now,” Joel continued. “So, you know, once the head’s cut off…”

  “Do you think your friends can let us know when he’s in custody?” I asked.

  “Of course, baby.” Joel turned around the ring on my left hand. “So, now all of this is behind us, I wanted to ask you something.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Well, I was wondering if, since our official wedding was a little unconventional…”

  My heart started to beat faster.

  “I was wondering if you would do me the honor of having a big old, full-scale traditional Ashcroft wedding, with all the bells and whistles?”

  I put a hand to my mouth to hide my smile. “You serious?”

  “Of course. I mean, just for my mom’s sake.” His eyes crinkled. “She’ll be so mad when she finds out we got married in secret.”

  I twisted in his lap and threw my arms around his neck. “Yes, please. I would love that.” I planted little kisses all over his cheeks. He cupped my face and held me still to lay a long, hard, claiming kiss on my mouth. Then he nuzzled my neck, and inhaled hard. “Don’t think I’ve forgotten how you put yourself in danger. I’d say that calls for punishment.” He drew back, his firm hand on the back of my neck keeping me turned towards him. “You need to learn to be honest with me. I vowed for better or worse. I have your back, always.” He gave me a little shake, his hand collaring me. I felt like a kitten hanging by the scruff of my neck.