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I was lying on a four-poster bed in an elegantly decorated bedroom. Thin sunlight drifted in past the brocade curtains on either side of a wide window. The bedframe, as well as the dresser and the vanity by the walls, looked like mahogany, polished to a shine. Gold flower patterns glinted on the mint-greenwallpaper.
The bedspread under me was actually velvet. The soft pile darkened under the pressure of my hands as I pushed myself upright. A sweet lilac scent drifted up fromit.
Sweet. The memory rushed up of the arms catching me, the cloth over my nose and mouth. My pulse stuttered. I touched my face as if I could pull that moment out of my past. Make it not havehappened.
But it had happened. Someone had grabbed me and knocked me out. And brought me here, whereverherewas. Apparently my kidnapper had a lot of money and a decadent taste infurnishings.
I patted my pockets. My phone was gone. At least my clothes were all still on and in order. I didn’t feel any unexpected aches or pains. No reason to think I’d been manhandled other than that initialassault.
At least so far. Who knew what my kidnapper had planned for menext?
Muscles tensed, I pushed myself off the bed. The window appeared to be at the front of the house. It looked out over a suburban street. A wide lawn led down to the road, and a large Victorian home stood on the far side, maybe a hundred feet away. There was another house in view to the left, beyond a thick hedge. I didn’t see anyone moving in their windows or outside, but the sun had just risen over the horizon. I might get a chance to yell for helplater.
In the meantime, I treaded across the floorboards to the vanity, looking for a letter opener or hairpin or anything else reasonably stabby. The drawers revealed only pots and tubes of various makeup powders and creams, a brush and a comb, and a mirror in a silver case that was smaller than mypalm.
Footsteps sounded outside the door. My hand stuffed the mirror in my pocket automatically. Spend a few years thieving and it becomes an impulse. I shoved the drawer closed and backed toward thewindow.
The doorknob turned. There was no click of a key or scrape of a deadbolt. I hesitated despite my thudding heart. The door hadn’t even been locked? I hadn’t bothered to check, I’d been so sure it wouldbe.
The door glided open. A guy I’d never seen before strolled into the room. I was sure of that, because if Ihadseen him before, even years ago, I definitely would have remembered him. He was the most gorgeous human being I’d ever set eyeson.
A sleekly muscular body, at least a few inches taller than my five-foot-nine, filled out his fitted dress shirt and slacks. His face was sleek too, with deep indigo-blue eyes and a topping of spiky black hair. The only feature that marred its perfect symmetry was a small scar that nicked his left eyebrow, but somehow that only made him look more perfect. An earring gleamed in his right earlobe—a tiny sapphire stud that matched hiseyes.
He stopped a couple steps into the room and offered me a crooked grin. A flutter raced through mychest.
Holy hell. I’d been knocked out and carted off into some stranger’s house. This was not the time for melting panties,Ren.
And yet they were melting. My heart was still thumping, but it wasn’t entirely fear now. The quiver running through my nerves felt more like eageranticipation.
What the hell was wrong withme?
And was it my imagination, or was the guy staring back at me just asavidly?
“Welcome to my home,” he said in a jaunty, melodic voice. “I’m sorry we had to meet under these circumstances. I promise you, kidnapping isn’t my usual style. I was hoping to speak with you in your own territory. My assistant got a little...overenthusiastic.”
He cut a glance toward the doorway. Ihadseen the guy standing there before. It was Cheekbones, from the bar. My shouldersstiffened.
But after all his swaggering in the bar, he now looked totally deflated. He shuffled over the room’s threshold and dropped to his knees, bowing hishead.
“I am so sorry. Ioverstepped.”
“By ahugemargin,” the first guy saiddryly.
“By a huge margin,” Cheekbones leapt to agree. “It was completely my fault. I wasn’t even supposed to talk to you. I— Again, I’msorry.”
“All right,” his boss said with a flick of his hand. “Get going. I’m sure she doesn’t want to see your face any more than she has to. You can get started with your new job.” He turned back to me with that slanted smile. “I’ve assigned him to cleaning duty for a month, which seemed to make sense, considering what a mess he made ofthings.”
“I’m confused,” I said. “I— So you didn’tmeanto kidnap me?” It was a little hard to wrap my head around thatidea.
“Like I said, not my style. I’d have told Leonard to bring you back to your home if I’d known where that was. Since I didn’t”—he motioned to the room—“I tried to make you as comfortable as possible in themeantime.”
He hadn’t come any closer, still giving me plenty of space. But he was standing between me and the doorway. I wet mylips.
“So, if I wanted to, I could go home rightnow?”
The guy’s eyebrows lifted. “Well, of course. Be my guest to stop being my guest.” He sidestepped to open the way to the door. “We’re only a half hour from Brooklyn, and there’s a train station a ten minute walk down the street. But maybe you’ll consider accepting my hospitality for a little longer, now that you’re here and all? I’ve been waiting a very long time to get the chance to talk toyou.”
I’d already crossed half the room. At that comment, my body froze up. I stared at him. “What do you mean? You said that before: that you wanted to talk to me. Talk to me aboutwhat? Whoareyou? Why were you—and your ‘assistant’—poking around in my life atall?”
