Caught!: Taken! / Say Yes

“No. I’ve got it.” He took her arm and, still holding on to his own door, pulled her toward his truck. “Just slide in on this side. I wouldn’t want you to fall and bruise anything.”

“I might fall, but you wouldn’t? Does being male give you better coordination?”

In the dim light, she saw him close his eyes, saw his breath puff out in a sigh. “Virginia, if I fall, I don’t care. And I can guarantee I’d be landing on a lot more solid muscle than you would.”

She didn’t know if that was a slur or not, but she didn’t ask him to clarify because she didn’t really want to know. Handing him the keys, she looked away and mumbled, “Fine. Suit yourself.”

He tugged her close as she tried to slide past him. His forehead dropped to hers. “Virginia.”

This close, she could see the dark sweep of his lashes, feel the warmth of his breath. He smiled. “You have an incredibly sexy ass. You know that, don’t you?”

Her heart tripped with the rough compliment. He sounded sincere, and she peeked up at him. He looked sincere—and as if he was waiting for her acknowledgment of the fact. “You have a wonderful way with words.”

His beautiful mouth tipped in a crooked grin, and once again his lashes swept his cheeks. “Sorry. Was my language too…colorful? I hope you won’t mind. I don’t know a lot of pretty words. But I do know a pretty bottom when I see one.” His firm palm went to that area and gently squeezed.

She was eternally grateful for the darkness hiding her blush. As it was, he probably felt the heat from her that seemed to pulse beneath her skin. Sex talk was new to her. And the raw, spontaneous way in which Dillon spoke was far from the practiced lines she usually heard.

She tightened her lips and tried not to laugh. “Thank you.”

His gaze lingered over a curl trailing past her cheek. “I like your new hairdo, too. Did you wear it this way for me?” His hand moved back to her waist.

Ironically, he didn’t look at all pleased by the notion. A more sophisticated man wouldn’t have asked. He would have assumed, and maybe been flattered, but he wouldn’t have embarrassed the woman by mentioning it. Virginia started to reply, but Dillon interrupted her.

His eyes were narrowed, and he looked reluctant to speak, but the words emerged anyway, low and raw. “Do you let it loose when you make love?” His gloved fingertips slid over her cheek, then over the upsweep of her hair. His gaze followed the path of his hand. “How long is it?”

Oh my. How could she possibly regain control if his every word made her mute with anticipation? Dillon lowered his head and kissed her. His fingers tightened on her skull and the kiss gradually grew more intimate until his mouth ate at hers, voracious and invading. Her fingers wrapped over his wrists, not to pull him away, but to hang on. His passion made her almost dizzy. It wasn’t what she was used to. He was too unrestrained, too natural, too much man. The thought made her heart jump.

He drew back slowly, in small degrees, his tongue licking her lips, his teeth nipping. Finally, his forehead rested against hers and she felt the cool, soft sweep of his long hair over her cheek. His sigh fogged the air between them. “Get in the car. I’ll throw your bag in the back and we can get out of here.”

Virginia glanced into the back of the battered truck and saw that the bed was covered by a tarp. “Whose truck is this?”

“Mine. It gets better traction in the snow.” He opened the trunk of her car, pulled out a small overnight case and cautiously picked his way back across the ice. He stowed the bag beneath the tarp while Virginia watched, then he carefully checked to see that her car was locked up tight. She held out her hand for her keys, but he’d already shoved them deep into his jeans pocket.

“Dillon…”

“In you go, honey.” Not giving her a chance to comment on his high-handedness, he lifted her off her feet, then unceremoniously dropped her into the truck.

He slid in beside her and locked the door.

Virginia fumed. “Don’t you ever do anything like that again!”

He didn’t answer, disconcerting her with his silence. In fact, he seemed different; the very air seemed different. Somehow charged. He put the truck in gear and began pulling away. She heard ice and snow crunching beneath the tires, even over the sound of the blowing heater.

She shifted in her seat, nervousness creeping in on her by slow degrees. Speaking her mind always helped her overcome her fears, helped her to reassert herself, to regain control of any situation. She’d learned that trick while still in high school, throwing student bullies who would pick on her about her weight into a stupor with her blunt honesty and virulent daring. She’d employed her skill throughout college and in the family business after her parents’ deaths. So hitting people broadside with arrogant bravado earned their dislike? It also earned their grudging obedience. And that had been good enough for her, because through most of her life, she’d needed every advantage she could gain. Cliff was the oldest and the heir; Kelsey was the baby—the sweet, pretty one.

Virginia filled the distressing spot of chubby middle child.

She huffed to herself and tightened her cape around her, regretting the brief stroll down memory’s bumpy lane. Such thoughts always brought up her defensive feelings and the feeling of loneliness. Only, she wasn’t alone now, and what always worked for her would work at this moment.

She turned in her seat to face Dillon and prepared to blast him with a few facts of life, namely that she was still the boss and as such, due all courtesies.

“Put on your seat belt.”

Of all the nerve! Her spine went rigid and her nostrils flared. “If you don’t stop ordering me around, we can just forget this little escapade altogether!”

Jaw clenched, he reached for the center floorboards of the truck, where a small thermos sat in a molded plastic car caddy so it wouldn’t tip and spill. Two lidded cups, already filled, were beside it.

“Here.” He handed her a cup. “I thought you might like something hot to keep you comfortable on the trip. I got you out of bed so early I wasn’t sure if you’d have time for coffee at home.”

He glanced at her, and she knew he was judging her mood, trying to decide if he’d managed to placate her. She still felt affronted, but accepted that he was trying. And in a small way, his take-charge attitude stimulated her. In a very small way.

“Thank you.”

He smiled, looking dramatically relieved, then he made a teasing face. “If I ask nice, will you also put on your seat belt? These roads are like a skating rink, and I don’t want to take any chances with you.”

She rather liked his teasing, and his concern. She smiled as she buckled her belt. “There. Happy?”

“Yes.” He reached over and, fingers spread wide, put his large hand on her thigh, gripping her in a familiar way. She held her breath and her stomach flipped sweetly. She waited to see what he would do next, but he seemed preoccupied by the deserted road, almost distracted. An occasional street lamp or passing car lit the interior of the truck cab and she saw his gloved hand looking wickedly dark and sinful against the pale material of her skirt. He didn’t move, didn’t speak. But that heavy hand remained on her leg, and she was incredibly aware of it, of him. She wondered if that hadn’t been his intention all along.

She sipped her coffee, then cleared her throat. “Would you like your cup?”

“In a little while.”

“Where exactly are we going?”

He flashed her a look she couldn’t read, then his gaze dropped to the cup she held. “It’s a surprise.” He returned his attention to the road.

She didn’t want to spoil the adventure, but his strange mood put her on edge. She’d survived a long time by trusting her hunches, and right now, it felt as if things weren’t aligned quite properly. She never felt like this about men, and they never acted like this around her. Always, Dillon had gone out of his way to speak with her, to turn on the charm. But now he seemed so distant, sitting there in a manner that felt very expectant.

Did he want something of her? Was she supposed to be doing something? If so, she didn’t know what. Dillon didn’t behave like other men, which was both exciting and a bit unsettling.

She continued to sip her coffee, trying to push the mingled uneasiness and anticipation away.

After a moment, they turned onto a deserted southbound expressway, heading for Kentucky. Virginia hadn’t gotten enough sleep, so the silence, combined with the easy driving and the early-morning darkness made her eyelids heavy. She closed her eyes and rested her head against the seat. “Where are we going, Dillon?”

His hand left her thigh to rub softly over her cheek, then around her ear. “You look like a snow bunny, you know that?”

His words were so soft. They drifted over her like his lazily moving fingers. With considerable effort, she forced her eyes open and turned her head in his direction. “I wanted to look nice for you,” she whispered, then closed her eyes again, wondering where in hell that bit of confession had come from. She held tightly to her coffee and sipped. The mug was almost empty, but that was okay; she didn’t want any more. She wanted to sleep.

She heard Dillon sigh. “I’m so sorry, Virginia. Remember that, okay?”

Something wasn’t making sense. He sounded pained, but somehow determined. She frowned and forced her eyes open again. Everything was blurred and it took her precious seconds to focus again. Dillon kept glancing at her curiously, his brow furrowed, his gaze intent and diamond hard.

Suddenly, she knew. Her chest tightened in panic and she stared at him. Her breath came fast. “You bastard. You poisoned me.”

“Not poison,” he said, but his voice was strained and there was a ringing in her ears. None of it made sense, at least, in no way she wanted to contemplate. She wouldn’t let the fear take her, wouldn’t let him take her. Hadn’t he warned her himself that someone was threatening her? But he’d been with her when the intruder had been in her house. Unless they were working together…

She narrowed her eyes on him and saw his worried frown. They were moving quickly down the expressway, too quickly. Farther and farther from home. The roads were empty, the day still dark and cold. She felt weaker by the second, and she fought it. She’d have to use her wits before they deserted her. Later, when she was safe, she’d let the hurt consume her. But not until she was safe—and alone once again.

DILLON WISHED SHE’D say something, anything, rather than stare at him in that accusing way. It reminded him of the dream and his stomach cramped. She had to be frightened, and he hated doing this to her. Nevertheless, his body was tense, prepared for whatever she might try.

“What have you done to me?”

He felt cold inside. “I drugged you, just as you assumed. It’s a sleeping drug. It won’t hurt you. Even now, you’re getting drowsy. You might as well stop fighting it, Virginia.” More than anything, he wanted her to sleep so he wouldn’t have to see the disgust and mistrust in her eyes.

She shook her head as if to clear it. “Where are we?”

“Nowhere yet.” He pulled off the main highway and onto a less-traveled rural route, slowing the truck accordingly. It would take longer this way, but there wasn’t likely to be any traffic at all. “We’ve got a while to go.”

Her head lolled on the back of the seat, and she looked out the windows at the scrubby trees, the endless snow. Dillon knew what she saw; no one had cleared this area, and the road was almost invisible between the trees lining it.

It had turned bitterly cold, and the wind whistled around the truck. He saw Virginia shiver and rub her eyes and a strange tenderness welled up in his chest. “Honey, don’t be afraid, okay?”

“Ha! I’m fine,” she managed to snap in slurred tones. She held her shoulders stiff and her hands clenched in her lap. He knew she was fighting the drug and her fear with everything she had. But it was useless.

“As soon as we get to the cabin and you’re awake, I’ll explain what’s going on. I don’t want you to worry.”

“I’m thirsty,” she whispered, ignoring his speech. He supposed, given the circumstances, his assurances were bizarre.

“Sure. Here, there’s a little coffee left.” She glared at him and he added, “Mine. This isn’t drugged. See?” He lifted the mug to this mouth to demonstrate, and that’s when she hit him.

He should have seen it coming, but he hadn’t realized she still had that much strength. Her doubled fists smacked into the cup, jamming it into his mouth, cutting his lip and clipping his nose. He cursed, dropping the cup and doing his best to steer the truck safely to the side of the road. He hit the brakes and shifted gears. They spun to a rocky stop after sliding several feet.

Already, Virginia was working on her door. He’d locked it, of course, and she fumbled, crying in frustration as she tried to find the way to unlock it. He’d put a large piece of electrical tape over the lock switch, just in case.

His hands closed on her shoulders and she turned on him, twisting in the seat and kicking wildly with her small boots. She hit him in the thigh and he grunted.

Subduing her without hurting her proved damn difficult. He finally just gave up and threw his entire weight on top of her. She gasped and cried and cursed as he captured both her hands and held them over her head. His chest pressed against her breasts, his thighs pinned hers.

“Virginia, shh. Baby, it’s all right.”

She looked up, and stark fear darkened her blurry eyes, cutting him deeply.

“Aw, damn.” He closed his eyes, trying to gather his wits. “Honey, I swear, I’m not going to hurt you. Please believe me.”

“Then why?” She began to struggle again, but she was weaker now, her eyelids only half-open. He lowered his chest, forcing her to gasp for air, to go completely still.

“I promise I’ll explain everything at the cabin.”

“What cabin?” she cried, the words slurred and raw.

“The cabin where I’m going to keep you for just a few days, until I’m sure it’s safe. Now, can I let you go?”

She stared up at him, blinking slowly, still fighting. “Your lip is bleeding. And your nose is turning blue.”

“I think you might have broken it.” He tried a small grin, but with his lip numb, it might not have been too effective. “You pack a hell of a punch, especially for a drugged lady.”

“I don’t understand you. You’re not the man I thought I knew.”

“No, I don’t suppose I am. But I won’t hurt you. And in a few days, I’ll take you home. Okay?”

Slowly, she nodded, and when he cautiously released her, she dropped her head back on the seat and took several deep breaths. After a moment, she pulled herself upright. It seemed to take a great deal of effort, but he didn’t touch her. He didn’t want her to slug him again, or possibly hurt herself jerking away.

Her gaze went to the door and the electrical tape. “I should have noticed.”

“It was dark.” He dabbed at his split lip with a hankie. Thankfully, his nose felt more bruised than broken, but it still hurt like hell.

“I have to use the bathroom.”

That stymied him for just a moment. He lifted his hands. “There’s nothing for miles, no gas station, no restaurants…”

“I need to go now. I can’t wait.”

He measured the wisdom of letting her out, but then he looked at her face. He wanted more than anything for her to trust him just a bit. He frowned at his own weakness. “All right. But stay right beside the truck. I’ll turn my back.”

She swallowed and her face flamed. To Dillon, she looked remarkably appealing and feminine. Her hair was half-undone, long strands tumbling around her shoulders, waving around her face. Her strange topaz eyes were slumberous, filled with a mixture of muted anger and anxiety. She breathed heavily, slowly, her lush breasts rising and falling. He hated her fear, hated being the cause of it. But he hadn’t had a choice.

Icy wind and wet snow assaulted him as he opened the door and stepped out. He turned and reached in for Virginia. She swayed, then offered him her hand to allow him to help her out on the driver’s side. That was his first clue. Virginia never admitted to needing help with anything or from anyone. She especially wouldn’t do so now, while she felt so angry and betrayed.

The realization hit just before she did. This time her aim was for his groin, and her aim was true, though thankfully not as solid as it might have been, given her lethargic state.

Air left his lungs in a whoosh and he bent double, then dropped to his knees in the icy snow. He ground his teeth against the pain and cursed her—the stubborn, deceiving little cat. This time when he got his hands on her…

Virginia tried to run, but her legs weren’t working right. She was clumsy, stumbling and falling again and again. She headed for the scraggly trees, even though they wouldn’t offer a speck of concealment. Dillon forced himself to his feet, leaning on the truck as he watched her. She moved awkwardly, hampered by her fear, the drug and the thick snow. He took one more deep breath, which didn’t do a damn thing for the lingering pain and nausea, and started off in a lope after her.

She must have heard his pursuit because she turned to stare wildly at him—and tripped. Dillon saw her go down, saw her land heavily on the ground and not get back up. His heart stopped, then began to thud against his ribs. Oh God.

“Virginia!” He forgot his own pain and charged to her. She lay limp, her face in the snow, and he fell to his knees beside her. She didn’t move. He gently lifted her head and felt for a lump of any kind. There was nothing; the snow had cushioned her fall.

She opened her eyes the tiniest bit and glared at him. In a mere whisper, she said, “You’re a miserable jerk, Dillon.”

“I know, baby. I know.” He smoothed the silky red hair away from her face while cradling her in his arms. “Easy, now. It’s all right. How do you feel?”

“You’ve drugged me.” Her head lolled, her words almost incoherent.

“It’ll be all right, Virginia. I promise. I would never hurt you.”

He heard a low, weak cry, and knew the sound came from Virginia. “Shh. It’s all right. I swear it’s all right.” He listened to his ridiculous litany and wanted to curse himself. Nothing was all right, and he had the feeling it might never be again.

He cuddled her close to his chest, rocked her. “Just relax and go to sleep, sweetheart. I’ll take care of everything. I’ll take care of you. That’s all I’m trying to do, you know.”

Her eyes shut and her body went limp. But just before she gave in, before she let him have his way, she whispered, “You never really wanted me at all.” She sighed. “You never wanted me. Damn you, Dillon…damn you, you never wanted…”

He listened to her breathing. She was asleep. Deeply asleep. Quickly, the cold slicing through him, he hefted her into his arms and started back for the truck. His groin ached and his nose throbbed, but that was nothing compared with how his heart hurt.

For Virginia’s own safety, he wouldn’t take any more chances. She had proven to be a creative captive, and he knew she’d fight him tooth and nail if he gave her the opportunity. That meant taking certain precautions that she wasn’t going to like.

For the second time that day, he lifted her into his truck. But as he strapped her in, as he looked around to make certain there were no witnesses, his brain played her words over and over again. You never wanted me.

SHE WAS SO WRONG, so damn wrong. He wanted her more than he’d ever wanted any woman. And it made no sense. He didn’t like her family or her problems or the confusion she made him feel.

She’d passed out cursing him. Typical of Virginia to fade out while raising hell.

He smoothed his hand over her head, which lay in his lap, her cheek against his expanding fly. He knew it was only his imagination, but he thought he could feel the soft warmth of her breath there.

He was a sick bastard, kidnapping a woman and then getting aroused over her sleeping body. But he couldn’t help himself. Everything about her excited him, and he was helpless against her. He wouldn’t violate her, never that. But he had taken advantage. He was the one who’d pulled her so close. And even as he drove, trying his damnedest to distance himself from what he’d done, he was pulling the pins from her hair and smoothing it with his fingers. He’d told himself he only meant to make her more comfortable, but he knew it was a lie.

Her flaming hair now lay thick and full and shiny over his lap and his belly and his thighs. He shuddered, feeling in his mind and body how it would be if he and Virginia were naked. He tangled a fist in the sinfully sexy mass and pulled it carefully away from her face.

Thick brown lashes lay over her pale cheeks, her lips slightly parted, all arrogance and dominance washed away. She didn’t look like a virago or a witch. She was simply an incredibly enticing woman. But he knew better, and he could only imagine how she’d react when she awoke. It would be a while yet. She’d been sleeping for only an hour. Still, he hadn’t given her that much of the drug, just enough to make certain she couldn’t figure out where they’d gone. He hadn’t wanted her to know where they’d be staying.

The sun was trying to show itself on this hazy winter morning and they’d almost reached their destination when he felt her fingers move, clasping weakly at his thigh. She made a small moaning sound and he stilled. He wanted her to sleep just a little longer. There was one more thing he had to do—one more precaution to take—once they reached the cabin, and it would be easier for both of them if Virginia slept through it.

Because he knew without a single doubt, Virginia would never willingly give up her clothes.

He didn’t plan to give her a choice.

chapter 6

VIRGINIA OPENED her eyes and accepted the feeling of dread that swirled around her. Cautiously, not sure what was wrong or why she felt so disoriented, she lay perfectly still and peered at her surroundings. Her head pounded as she took in the rough plank walls and bare floor. She was in a narrow bed piled high with quilts, cozy and warm, but the air on her face was cool. The cabin, or more like a shack, didn’t appear to have modern conveniences, but the fireplace across the room blazed brightly, the flames licking high and casting an orange glow over the otherwise dark room.

Memories returned in bits and pieces, and with them came a deep ache in her heart. She closed her eyes and bit her lips as the emotional pain swelled.

That rotten, deceiving conniver. That miserable creep. He’d kidnapped her! He’d played her for a fool, pretending to want her, when in truth it had all been a game. She opened her eyes and willed away the tears that threatened. Virginia Johnson did not cry.

After taking several uncertain breaths, she worked up the nerve to turn her head and look for Dillon. She didn’t see him anywhere. The minuscule cabin had only one separate room, not much bigger than a closet. Through its open door she could see it was a bathroom, butting up next to the kitchen area. There was one narrow counter, a stove, small freezer and refrigerator situated around a metal sink. The cabin’s one and only window, mostly blocked by snow on the outside, was situated over the sink.

There were two chairs, one a wooden rocker, the other a threadbare armchair, facing the fireplace. The bed she was lying in—a cot, really—hugged the back wall. Beside the cot was a small dresser that served as a nightstand, holding a clock and a tiny lamp with no shade. In the middle of the room was a badly scarred pine table and two matching chairs.

There was no sound other than the snapping and hissing of the fire. She swallowed, wondering if she might have a chance to escape.

Damn the cold and the snow and whatever distance they’d covered. She would not accept being a victim without choices. It didn’t matter to her if she had to run all the way home.