Closer (3 page)

He’d waited, huddled in his parked car. Every hour or so he got out of his car and placed money in the parking meter. The last thing he needed was a parking ticket indicating he had been outside of her place of employment. He was parked far enough away that no one paid him any mind. Using the down time to plan, he decided to follow her home and wait until she was relaxed; then he would take her.

He had to wait until 1900, when she exited the building. His Intel informed him she had an apartment in the city and a cabin in the mountains.
Where would they be going tonight?

It was dark, which made it easier for him to follow her and not be seen. His Intel provided that she drove a red Subaru Forester four-by-four. Spotting her vehicle exiting the parking garage, he pulled out from his spot and followed a few cars behind her in his Jeep Grand Cherokee. Spending time in the mountains necessitated his need for the four-by-four vehicle, and he was damn lucky. He was going to need it to make it into the mountains, which he suspected was where they were heading on this Friday night. He carefully stayed several car lengths behind her. About two hours later, she was pulling into her driveway, which went up to her weekend cabin in the Sugarloaf Mountains. This girl had everything he wanted. He parked at the base of the driveway pulling out of sight behind some thick evergreen trees. He made his way, by foot, to her A-frame log cabin. The front was nothing but high windows. “She must have an incredible view of the mountains from her home,” he thought. He bet she loved it there. He would.

He perched outside the back of her home, waiting until she settled in for the evening. Thank goodness his training had prepared him to be patient and prepared in any circumstance. His mental fortitude was strong, thanks to the abuse he suffered. What could he say? He took it willingly. At any time he could have quit training, but he wanted to be a Green Beret more than anything else in his life. He was extremely physically fit, had passed all of the tests, even some of the more rigorous ones designed to break the strongest of men. The night was cold, but it didn’t affect him. He felt his Beretta against his forearm as he squatted and peered through Emma’s kitchen window. He would bide his time and wait for the perfect opportunity. Not wanting to rush such an expensive and important mission, kidnapping a person loyal to the Armed Islamic Group (GIA), he patiently waited in the bitterly cold temperatures. He was lucky if the thermometer read nine; add in the wind-chill factor, and he was sure it was negative nine. He did, however, have a fantastic view of the surrounding mountains. He looked behind him and admired the glow of the moon, the way the moonlight lite the tops of the trees in the forest that surrounded Emma’s cabin.

Her lights were on, but it was dark outside which gave him the perfect view inside her home. He noticed her make her way upstairs and turn on the bedroom light.
Thank God she didn’t have a single curtain on any window
. She undressed and pulled on her pajama bottoms and a tank top. He watched, mesmerized by the sight of her figure in the window. He could see her ample bosom. He liked a woman with large breasts, but there was something more to her than just her breasts; he was drawn to her. There was something about her body that had his aching for her touch. How was he going to survive this kidnapping? He just had to keep reminding himself she was working for the bad guys. She turned off her bedroom light and made her way back downstairs. She walked into her spacious kitchen and poured herself something to drink. Then she made her way into the living room and set her glass on the coffee table. She took out her laptop and sat on the couch. He watched as she pulled an old afghan cover over her legs and brought her laptop to her lap. She was finally relaxing into the false security of her cabin retreat.

He waited for forty-five minutes before he approached the back door. All he needed was his lock-picking tools, and he would be inside her home in a matter of seconds. He picked the lock, entered her kitchen, and closed the door quietly behind him. It was spacious with wooden cabinets and a U-shaped counter top, which doubled as a breakfast bar. The breakfast bar separated the kitchen from a breakfast nook area where her kitchen table sat. The exposed oak beams of her ceiling were high and steepled and ran throughout the kitchen and, he assumed, the rest of the house. On top of the kitchen sat a quiet little loft with a banister as a half wall. That was where her bedroom was located. He could tell from the layout of the windows. He moved quietly past the kitchen table and hid himself behind the stone-faced hearth of her fireplace. He was hidden from view, but he could see her sitting on the couch, which was perpendicular to the fireplace. Blond hardwood floors ran throughout the cabin. He could see in several places on the floor the growth rings of the trees, which told him he wasn’t looking at laminate but at real hardwood. She must make a pretty penny to afford this cabin. The walls were a rich, burnt orange color that accented the floors. The stone hearth fireplace was placed in the center of the room and the stairs wrapped around the fireplace on the left side. He focused on the living room. Large windows looking out over the mountain range were in every room. The oak beams he noticed in the kitchen did, in fact, run throughout the entire home. He pulled his gun quietly from his side holster and approached her. She was engrossed in her laptop and oblivious to his body moving quietly. He stood a foot away from her when he first spoke.

“Be still,” he commanded.

She jumped up dropping her laptop to the floor and scrambled to the farthest corner of the couch. Their eyes connected and he felt it to his very core. She lit a fire in him that had long since been dormant. He moved closer to her taking care to keep the gun aimed at her head. He noticed to his left a wet bar made of the same blond wood. The wet bar had a loaded wine case above the counter and wine glasses hanging from a holder.
What’s her favorite flavor of wine?
Whoa! “Where did that come from,” he thought.
She works for the bad guys, remember?
“What do you want,” Emma asked coolly as she cowered against the side arm of her couch.

“I want you to get up slowly and move into the kitchen,” he said.

Across from the red leather couch she was sitting on sat another leather couch of the same make, both facing each other and perpendicular to the fireplace. Directly in front of the fireplace and against the back wall sat a reclining chair and a rocking chair. Her furniture was new, not like his hand-me-downs.
The terrorist business must pay well
. Still, he couldn’t help but admire her sitting there on her couch.

Emma did as he bid. She rose, and he moved closer to her. He was now wedged between the coffee table and the couch, standing less than a foot in front of her. Nerve endings were firing all over his body; he could feel the pull of his groin. She was affecting him in the most primal of ways. He flicked his gun at her, indicating for her to move past him and into the kitchen. He did not move as she brushed past him electrifying him with the barest of touches. He followed her into the kitchen and commanded her to sit down. She lowered herself to sit upon her kitchen chair. He pulled open the duffle bag he’d stored by the kitchen door and pulled out the rope.

She had delicate porcelain skin. She wore no make-up, but still she was the most beautiful creature he had ever laid eyes on. Her dark auburn hair fell around her shoulders. Her demure nose accented her deep blue eyes. She had the fullest, naturally red, pouty lips he had ever seen. She wore those sexy, stylish glasses, which did not detract from her penetrating eyes. Her ass was a little bigger, especially at the hips, just the way he liked his women—curvy. She was definitely doing something to him. His erection was pushing against his dark pants.

“What do you want?” she asked again sitting still in the chair mindful his gun was pointed directly at her head.

He approached her with the rope. He knelt behind her and caught her scent. She smelled of earthy goodness mixed with lavender. He felt heady from the need she was creating within him. He could not bring himself to mark her perfect porcelain skin, so he tied her hands more loosely than he normally would have. He would have a gun on her the whole time anyway.

“What do you want?” she demanded again, frustrated she couldn’t get him to answer.

He wanted her underneath him, to feel her body respond to his touch, but he remained closed-lipped. He would never do that; he would never take advantage of a woman. He couldn’t. He jerked her chair until her knees were facing his chest. He reached up and tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear, but she jerked her head away from his touch.

He reached for her face again and again she jerked her head away.
What the fuck was going on? Did he plan on raping her?
Oh God, her worst nightmare come true. She would fight. She would fight with everything she had. She tested her ropes and found they weren’t that tight. She might be able to free herself from her bonds. “Whom do you work for? Why are you here?” she rambled on in exasperation.

The back of his fingers came close to caress her face again and again she felt his touch the whole way to her soul. It was as if his was the first touch she’d ever experienced. She felt her stomach heat. He was still so close to her; his chest against her knees. She could smell his woodsy, musky smell and it left her confused.
Did she want him to touch her?
Rationally, she couldn’t understand this need he created inside her.

“Please,” she begged trying a new tactic, “tell me why you are here. Please. What do you want with me?”

He stood and walked to the kitchen door. She took advantage of his lack of attention by working to remove the ropes from her wrists.

“I think you already know the answers to your questions. Perhaps it has something to do with whom
you
are working for these days,” he growled as he turned around to face her again. He was pissed such a beautiful creature was out of his reach because she was loyal to the GIA.

“I don’t have the project with me. It’s locked up nice and tight in my lab,” she explained as she slowly tried to slide the ropes from her wrists and over her hands.

Her words were lost on him. He had no idea about Project Hummingbird, but that was the only rational conclusion her brain could reach.

“If you weren’t such a bad person, Emma, we wouldn’t be here,” he retorted. “Someone is paying me a great deal of money to deliver you to them. Maybe you should be more careful about whom you associate with,” he continued as he stared straight into her soul.

What was he talking about? “There must be some mistake,” she explained. “I work for the Department of Defense.”

“That is not what my sources have confirmed,” he said.

He really did admire the view. Her lush lips calling to his cock from across the room. He stared at her lips and she took notice. How he would love to feel those beautiful lips wrapped around his hard member. She worked feverishly, but oh so cautiously, to rid her hands of the ropes. He approached her, gun raised. He bent forward into her personal space and pressed his nose into her neck.
What the fuck is going on? Was he smelling her?

He backed away from her, lost in her beauty.

“It is a pity you work for the GIA, Emma. You’re a very beautiful woman,” he commented as he checked on her bonds letting his fingers linger on the skin of her hand.

The ropes were still in place. Thank God she hadn’t worked her hands out of them completely yet. She thought about his comments and wondered who the GIA was. She certainly didn’t work for them, so there definitely was some sort of mistake. He had the wrong person. Feeling secure in her bondage, he walked into her living room to gaze out of her expansive front windows.

She didn’t waste any time. She worked feverishly removing the remaining bondage. Once free, she quietly made her way to her back door, shoved her feet into her boots, and slipped out of her cabin. She took off running into the forest. It was freezing, big snowflakes were falling all around her, and all she had on was her tank top and pajama bottoms.
She would freeze to death before he could deliver her
. She should have grabbed her keys and made her way to her car. There was no time to contemplate what to do as the back door swung open and Michael bolted in her direction. She took off running up the hill. She ran and ran as fast as she could deeper and deeper into the forest. Stumbling a few times, she managed to haul herself back up again. Having hiked these woods numerous times over her years at the cabin, she knew exactly where to go. She stumbled and crawled but eventually made her way to a small cavern opening in the side of the hill.

∞

He walked back into the kitchen and noticed the ropes lying on the floor and the back door ajar.

“Fuck,” he cried as he reached in his bag and grabbed his flashlight before charging through the back door and into the woods.

The snow should make it much easier to track her
. He heard a branch break, and he took off running in the direction of the sound. She would freeze out here, and he couldn’t allow that. Wearing his heavy North Face jacket over a long sleeve Henley t-shirt with fleece-lined black pants and winterized boots, he was warm enough, but she wasn’t wearing anything. He had to find her in the next thirty minutes or frostbite would set in.

Listening for a moment, all he could hear was his heartbeat thumping against his chest. He had to find her. Then he heard her cry as she fell and hit the snow-packed earth. He began moving in that direction. By the time he found her footprints in the snow, she was gone. He followed her prints until they disappeared near a rock formation halfway up the face of the mountain. He walked around slowly, listening and observing. He couldn’t hear anything, so he observed every aspect of the rocks that laid around him.

At the bottom of one of the rock formations he noticed a small opening. With his gun in his hand in front of him, he crawled through the narrow entrance. When he spotted her, he immediately brought his gun up to point it at her chest. She was cowered against the back of the cave. He approached her as he would a wounded animal. Pointing the flashlight at her, he could see her fingers were already a patchy white. He knew, at that moment, he didn’t want her to ever look at him with such fear in her eyes again.