Caught!: Taken! / Say Yes

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.