Captive at Christmas (2 page)

Her eyes flashed open and pink lips formed a surprised ‘O’. She did not speak, nor scream when she saw the gun. Every inch of her body became rigid but seconds later, began to tremble.

Mac repeated himself, barking the words. “Who are you?”

“H-Han-nah M-Mag-nus,” she stammered.

The woman seemed genuinely terrified, but he had seen something all too similar to this once before. Allowed himself to be duped by a doe-eyed female. Never again. “Hannah Magnus. Do you have any identification to prove your claim?”

Hannah took a sharp intake of breath. “P-purse, b-by the b-bed.”

Throwing his gaze over, he saw the black leather bag and the corner of a leather wallet sticking out. “Don’t move,” he warned, moving slowly towards it. Mac grabbed the entire bag and brought it back to the side of the tub. Inside of the wallet, he found all of the usual forms of identification. Twenty-six, just had her birthday a few months ago. Canadian, he found her passport in the bag too. But all of this could easily be falsified. “Who sent you?”

Continuing to stare at him dumbly, she opened her mouth as confusion filled her gaze. “I don’t understand…this is my…my rental. I mean, I…”

“Are you trying to tell me that you rented
this
cabin?” Mac looked at her disbelievingly, taking quick peeks every few seconds to her breasts, slightly hidden by the water. Hannah was too frightened to cover them and hell, he was only human after all.

“Yes,” she replied quickly. “The rental agreement is…I…I’m sorry, but, the gun…i-is that necessary?”

He snorted. “You’ve got no fuckin’ idea, lady.”

At the repeat of such a harsh word, she jumped. “Okay, um, can I uh…” Hannah finally covered herself. “I would rather not die naked in a tub, if that’s alright.”

Taken aback by the comment, he merely watched her for a moment and then, quite unexpectedly, Mac burst out laughing. “Not an unreasonable request,” he chuckled, reaching for a thick white towel sitting on the edge of the bed. “Though I will not take your life, not unless you attempt to execute me first.”

Hannah stepped out of the bath, covering herself with the towel but he saw the reflection of her backside in the window. Mac groaned quietly, staring at the soft curves of her before she secured the towel. His pants became impossibly tight, his arousal straining against the fly. He should never wait this long between lovers again.

“Okay, so as I was trying to tell you, I rented this cabin for two weeks. The rental agreement is in my purse. If you will permit me to locate it…” she paused, making sure the towel was secure.

“Mm-hmm.” He kept his weapon aimed as she moved, eyes glued to the curve of her backside. Jesus, he could just imagine sinking himself between those curves. She’d be tight and soft, all at once…

“I’m really no threat to you,” she mumbled, searching through her bag. “What is all five foot three of me going to do to you, especially when you’ve got a gun?”

“You would be surprised,” he admitted.

I certainly was, the last time I let my guard down
.

“Aha, here it is.” Hannah passed him a thin stapled packet of papers.

He went over every inch of the document, noting that it was exactly the same as the one he signed. Another thing that could very easily have been falsified, but what caught his eye was the man’s name on the form. Mac shot her another look, knowing she couldn’t possibly be single with a body like hers.

Lethally sexy. That’s how he’d describe it.

“Who is Gary Shepherd?” She winced at that, causing Mac to be overtly interested in her response. Arms crossed tightly over her ample chest, Hannah sighed, walking over to sit on the edge of the bed. The hunch of her shoulders, deflated torso and choked back sob was all the answer he needed. “So he was supposed to join you?”

She nodded, wiping the back of her still damp hand over her eyes. “Yes.”

If that Kayla kid turned out to be his, this would be the perfect opportunity to practice being compassionate. Not that he didn’t have it in him, but Mac knew he was rusty. He sat down beside Hannah, the memory foam mattress bowing under his weight. Keeping his voice empathetic, he asked, “What happened?”

Her shoulders rose sharply, falling again just as quickly as she elevated them. “I wasn’t good enough for him.”

The reply actually stunned him. Mac took another good, long look at her, taking her small chin between his thumb and forefinger, forcing her to meet his gaze. With soft, delicate features that included cobalt blue eyes, flecked with green and gold, a button of a nose, high cheekbones and small, light pink lips, Hannah personified beauty. The classic kind that one rarely sees nowadays. “I can hardly see that being true,” he murmured.

“Yeah well, believe it.” Another sigh. “Look, if you rented this cabin too, then I might as well go back home and begin my search for a place to live. Ugh, that’s what I should be doing, not wasting time here.” She dropped her head into her hands.

The comment had him on high alert. If she left… “I’m afraid that will not be possible.” Mac loathed the words as he spoke them. Was he really going to do this? “Until I leave, I cannot let you leave this cabin. You are going to have to stay right where you are, where I can keep an eye on you.”

Had she heard him correctly?

Hannah stared at the man, who still hadn’t told her his own name, wondering why he felt compelled to hold a gun to her. The entire situation had to be either a terrible nightmare or a very cruel joke. “A-are you saying that…that I am…being…that you are…holding me h-hostage?”

The hard lines of his mouth turned down as he narrowed his eyes. “Honestly, I wish there could be another way, but until my home is repaired, this is the safest place for me. And I cannot allow you to leave, just in case.”

A few scenarios played out inside of her mind. Escaped convict, a wanted man, murderer, bank robber, rapist…oh she hoped and prayed that he wouldn’t be murderer or rapist. “In case of what?” Hannah despised her frightened whispering voice.

“Look, you’re either someone who is out for a six-figure payday or you really are who you say you are. In my current situation, I just can’t take any chances. But once I get the word that my house is fixed, you can go. I give you my word.”

“No offence,” she suddenly felt bold, though Hannah didn’t know where her newfound bravery came from, “but your word doesn’t mean very much to me when you’re holding a gun to my head and threatening to keep me here. You haven’t even told me your name.”

Through tapered eyes, he regarded her for a moment. “Alright,” he conceded. “The gun goes away, but first, you have to promise to be on your best behavior.”

“I own a bookstore, okay? I’m not some kind of…of…” Hannah scowled, trying to think of a fitting word. Usually, her vocabulary never fail her, but damn if she wasn’t scared witless around this man!

“Assassin?”

“Exactly! As long as you don’t try anything on me–” she trembled at the thought, not knowing if it would be a good or bad thing; the man was obviously attractive but this was neither the time, the place nor the situation, “–then I will not feel the need to defend myself. And are you going to share your name?”

Expelling a ragged breath, the man nodded and set the gun down beside him. “It’s John. And believe me, you are in absolutely no danger of me ‘trying anything’ on you.” He used his fingers to mime quoting the words.

The way he said the words made Hannah feel more unattractive than ever. Though the last thing on her mind was entering a new relationship, physical or otherwise, rejection on any level still hurt. Especially when the man she thought she was going to marry left her for someone else and told her he found her dull.

Pulling herself together, Hannah squared her shoulders and stuck her chin out, the only act of defiance she dared to show in an otherwise austere situation.

John stood up and began to stretch his long, thick and powerful body. He reminded her of Erik, her older brother, though he was shorter and less muscular than John. They both had the same look, constantly on edge and unable to relax. Perhaps it meant this man was in the same line of work that her brother had been. If that were true, then his actions and mannerisms were more about self-preservation as opposed to deliberate aggression.

“We’ll have to set some ground rules,” she began, feeling very underdressed compared to him in his black jeans, heavy corded sweater and boots with thick soles. “First, as sleeping arrangements go, you can take the bed. Obviously the couch would be too small for you.”

John nodded, offering a glimpse of relief in his eyes. “Thank you.”

Hannah ignored his comforted sigh, annoyed that it pleased her. “Second, you cannot go around attacking me for no reason.”

“Unless you give me cause to–”

“I won’t,” she interrupted. “And I can promise you, even though I may not be a millionaire, I’m not in the habit of turning people in for a reward, unless they’re escaped convicts or wanted criminals, then I would have no hesitation to turn them in. The money would be the least of my concerns, in fact, it would go to charity. You’re not wanted for murder or…worse, are you?”

With raised brows, he laughed. “What could be worse than murder?” The horrified expression on her face must have been quite readable. He gave her a stern look. “I have never and will never force myself on a woman. You can rest assured that I wouldn’t dream of such a thing.”

“Good. Um…” Hannah made the mistake of allowing her eyes to travel down the length of his body again and detected the unmistakable bulge attempting to escape from its denim prison. Before he saw her gawking at the outline of his – what could only be called ‘very large manhood’, she looked down at her feet.

Oh my goodness!
she thought, growing more embarrassed as the seconds ticked by.

“My turn. Give me your cell phone.” John stood with his hand out, palm up, waiting.

“My phone?” She glanced up. “Why?”

“So you will be unable to contact any of your associates. That is, if you
are
here to kill me.”

Too stunned to respond vocally, Hannah pointed to her purse, still lying on the bottom step by the tub. John reached it in two strides of his long legs, stuck his large hand inside and located the phone within seconds. She watched him take it apart with military precision and decided that her earlier assessment was correct. He had some kind of special-ops training.

“Find any bugs?”

He snapped his head in her direction. “No.”

The tension rolled off of him in waves and Hannah decided to take a different approach so they both might have a semi-enjoyable time here. As enjoyable as a hostage could have with her captor, at least. “Well, if it is going to be two of us here, I might as well put some clothes on and do some baking. I take it you didn’t bring any food with you?”

“Uh, no, I was going to go to the store later. Baking?” He quirked a brow at her.

She stood up and motioned to her arms and thighs. “Can’t you tell? I’m not exactly every man’s fantasy and the recent break-up has re-spawned my cravings for rich chocolate cake and freshly baked white bread.”

His eyes widened as he examined her body – what wasn’t hidden by the towel – causing heat to prickle up from her toes, right up to her forehead. “Whoever gave you such terrible self-confidence ought to receive a thrashing. You’re practically perfect.”

The unexpected compliment made her gasp and from the stunned look on his face, it seemed as though John hadn’t meant to come out and say it exactly the way that he had. Hannah clutched the towel more securely. “Um, mind if I get dressed?”

“Yeah,” he cleared his throat. “Clothes. Good idea.” John left the room quickly, shutting the door behind him.

Absolutely bewildered at this inexplicable turn of events, Hannah shook her head and searched through the suitcase for something appropriate. If only she had packed more than sweats, nightdresses and flannel pajamas. Then again, getting dolled up for her captor never even crossed her mind. She settled on a plain white long-sleeved shirt, dark grey yoga pants and socks. The clothes hugged her curves, which she despised, but at least it was comfortable.

Nearly an hour later, Hannah watched the timer for the four round pans of cake in the oven while making some frosting. She did think to reconsider the amount of butter and chocolate but then reminded herself that, as a hostage, it would be fine if she gained a few pounds.