Captive at Christmas
Captive Hearts Series:
Book I
By
Captive at Christmas
Copyright © 2012 Danielle Taylor
All Rights Reserved.
Cover art:
Text:
www.ipiccy.com
&
www.picmonkey.com
Image
:
©
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No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without permission in writing from the owner. Excerpts for reviews – only when stated as such and quoted – are an exception.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales, are entirely coincidental.
Table of Contents
Cover
Title Page
Copyright
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
About the Author
Excerpt
s from:
Intimate Strangers
Letting Go
At long last, her car edged up to the cabin. It looked exactly like the photograph on the website. Cozy, made of logs and stone, tiny windows with shutters on the outside to keep in the warmth. If only she still had someone to share it with – that had been the plan. But a failed relationship wouldn’t stop her from enjoying herself for two weeks.
Especially during Christmas.
The decision to cross the border into Washington State didn’t come lightly to her. Hannah Magnus had never left Canada before, silly as the notion was at this day in age. She thought a nice trip away with Gary would be just what they needed, something secluded, romantic… All the while, he had been spending his time with someone else entirely.
He had even gone as far as to propose to this other woman.
“Stop thinking about it,” she scolded herself, fighting back tears.
She pushed open the car door, grabbing her keys and purse before heading around to the trunk. Hannah packed enough food for two weeks, maybe a little more if she included the chocolate, red wine and baking ingredients. Two weeks without cake on a broken heart was something she would not suffer through.
She also made sure to pack the least sexy clothing she owned. This time was about comfort – her own for a change.
The interior was just as quaint as the outside, yet the ceilings seemed impossibly high. A large stone fireplace with wooden mantle lay against the wall to the right, just after a door. The wall across from her held three long and wide windows, showcasing a spectacular mountain view. Kitchen to the left which, surprisingly, had all the luxuries of a city home. Microwave, kettle, coffee maker and espresso machine – the likes of which you might see at a fancy coffee house – double oven, gas burners on the stove and every gadget under the sun.
Hannah located the only bedroom, through the door to her right, and set her suitcase on the floor beside the bed. A whirlpool tub sat in the far corner, overlooking a fantastic snowy view through windowed walls. Next she put the food away and read through the information package on the counter. Though the entire time, all she could think about was that tub and a glass of wine. It had been a long drive and she ached.
While the water filled up, Hanna tied back her long brown hair, examining herself in the mirror. Her father always told her that mousy brown hair was a good thing. Not too provocative but gave a hint of something indefinable. She had no idea what he meant and was seriously beginning to consider a change. Perhaps she needed to go blonde, or do
something
drastic, but Hannah was sick of being boring.
Gary provided boring as one of his reasons for leaving her – that and her supposed lack of interest in the bedroom. How was she supposed to know about things that she’d never practiced before? He certainly never initiated anything, though she attempted a few tries with him. Instead, he looked elsewhere, leaving her alone and in the dark.
Quite literally.
With a glass of red in hand, Hannah stripped out of her jeans and sweater, and slipped beneath the water. She never had the opportunity to try one of these tubs out and now she knew what all the fuss was about. Every inch of her aching body relaxed in a turbulent stream of warm water and jets.
Before she risked falling asleep, Hannah sipped at the wine but decided to be un-boring and down the glass. It had her feeling comfortably warm and heavy-eyed almost instantly.
~~~
The only thing worse than having his house undergoing repairs was not being able to stay in it, while the repairs were happening. He still couldn’t be convinced that the felled tree was an accident, but the surrounding snow told of no human presence. Perhaps he simply had grown far too paranoid for his own good.
Mackenzie Dunlop despised being away from his home, especially when things were so unsettled. Though it had been nearly three years since his departure from ‘work’, the threats still existed. They probably always would, no matter where he went.
At least he could have two weeks in the middle of nowhere on his own before he had to get back to reality – named Kayla. He still wasn’t convinced, but the DNA test would tell him what he needed to know. The last thing he wanted at thirty-eight years old was to find out he’d already had a kid for the past fourteen years.
Especially when he just started to get some kind of a life together.
A normal life, at that – or as normal as anything ever could be for an ex-soldier with a high price on his head.
Hell, Mac deserved it though, after everything he did in the name of peace and his country. Now he saw it all clearly, and how expendable he’d been. His own president left him to rot in a cell in a country that God himself wouldn’t visit. And when he escaped and touched back down on his own soil, he’d become a traitor for not dying, not being executed like they’d hoped.
Though the snow picked up, he didn’t mind, even if it trapped him in the cabin for his ‘vacation’. It would give him some time to reflect on everything, including this kid business. Not just a kid, but a full-fledged God damned
teenager
. He remembered the woman well, Vivian, a fellow operative from England.
They shared a few nights together off the clock and he never heard from her again. Now she was terminally ill and looking for someone to take care of her kid after she was gone. According to their last communication, that would be sooner, rather than later.
“Christ,” Mac sighed, raking his free hand through the thick, dark hair atop his head.
The trees thinned out to reveal a small cabin, one of a few deluxe yet compact holiday retreats on the mountain. As he parked the dark bullet-proof SUV, Mac’s instincts kicked into high gear at the sight of a car.
Small and white, it hid beneath a growing snowdrift and a less experienced person might assume that it had been there a while. With the amount of snowfall in the past few hours though, he knew it hadn’t been there more than two hours at the most.
After a cursory glance around satisfied his suspicions that no one waited in the snow to ambush him, Mac stepped out of the vehicle. The cold steel of a hopefully unnecessary weapon touched the hardened muscles of his abdomen as he tucked it in the waist of his jeans. His soundless approach took him around the cabin but again, he saw nothing out of the ordinary. Whoever belonged to the vehicle must be inside.
With a simple twist, he found the door unlocked and reached for the concealed weapon, now warmed by his flesh. Though no one could be seen inside of the main living area of the cabin, Mac heard a sound. Motors – a whirring noise. Familiar, though he couldn’t quite put his finger on what the source of it might be coming from.
Content to believe that no assassins hid in the kitchen or the sitting area, he turned right and headed for the closed door. Again, he made a silent entrance into the room; a bedroom with an enormous king sized bed, just like he asked for. As a man standing at six feet, six inches, the usual beds simply wouldn’t do. How he could hardly wait to sink into its comfort after driving for nearly fifteen hours straight…
Something caught his eye and Mac dropped noiselessly to the floor with the gun in his hands. A large whirlpool tub to the left, sitting in the corner of the room next to floor-length uncovered windows was swirling away. He noticed it from the outside of the house but what he didn’t see from the outside was the empty wine glass sitting on the wooden step or the tuft of brown hair hanging over the edge.
Using stealth afforded to him from years of tactical training, Mackenzie edged nearer to assess the threat. When he reached the steps, he knelt and pushed himself up slowly, powerful thighs, raising him evenly and without pause or strain. Creamy pale skin poked out from the rapids in the tub – belonging to a woman. His eyes widened as the swell of her cleavage was jostled by the streams of water. Though she had the appearance of an angel and not that of a hired hit-man – or rather,
woman
– Mac knew better.
After a moment’s thought, he settled himself on the edge of the tub and held the muzzle less than an inch from her temple. “Who the fuck are you and what the fuck are you doing in my cabin?”
