Their Virgin Captive(56)

Marnie shrugged and reached under the bar. She came back up with a shot glass filled with amber liquid. Without a second thought, Hannah picked it up and slammed it to the back of her throat. No feminine sipping for her this time.

Unlike the first two she’d had, this drink lacked bite. It was silky smooth and sweet. She put the empty glass down and stared with a frown. “I don’t think this is tequila. I like this one, Marnie. I could drink this all night.”

She’d probably have to. Glancing at the pilot again, Hannah asked, “Do you have any idea when Billy might be sober?”

It was rude to make her wait while he slept off his vodka. She’d planned a grand exit. She was supposed to be halfway to Anchorage by now. She couldn’t sit here much longer or the brothers would find her. What would happen then? She shivered in anticipation. No, you’re supposed to be leaving them forever, not thinking about all the delicious ways they could punish you.

Marnie leaned forward. “You’re in trouble, girl. Why don’t you tell me about it? I have a feeling this is about my boys.”

“I’m sorry, ma’am. I don’t know your boys. I just flew up from Dallas yesterday with my boss—well, my former boss—and his brothers. I haven’t exactly seen much past the bedroom, if you know what I mean.” Had she just said that out loud?

Hannah felt herself flush. Where had her manners gone? Fled in a haze of alcohol, she suspected. Except she didn’t feel very drunk. Tipsy, maybe. She picked up the last shot glass and sniffed it. “Hey, is this apple juice?”

Marnie merely poured another. “Now see, it sounds like you have met my boys. Gavin and Slade would be just the type to hide a woman away. And though I didn’t have a hand in raising Dex, he’s become like one of my own, too. He can be a caveman when it suits him.”

“Perfect.” Hannah downed the drink. “I flee, and I run straight into their surrogate momma.

If you’re not going to help me get drunk, will you at least get me a cup of coffee?” A rustling against the beat-up hardwood floors sounded behind her. Hannah sighed. The men of the bar had been watching her every move since she’d walked in. Initially Marnie had scared them, but Hannah had heard them whispering. Now, they began belting out offers.

“I’ll buy you a drink, ma’am.”

“Me, too. One of them fruity drinks, if you want,” added another.

“I have some of that fancy beer back at my place. We could get…comfortable and drink a few.”

Wincing, Hannah turned. The dozen or so roughnecks had closed in. The big, burly men in faded jeans and flannel shirts, clearly used to hard work if their battered boots were any indication, hovered. If she hadn’t already given her heart away, she might have found these guys attractive. But not a one could hold a candle to her men.

Except Gavin, Slade, and Dex weren’t her men anymore.

Hannah smoothed back her hair. “I appreciate the offer, gentlemen, but I’ve had enough of men to last me a lifetime. And Miss Marnie is probably right, I really don’t need more alcohol. I could, however, use a general store. Is there one around so I can pick up a few necessary items?” Her head spun a bit. Hannah felt a deep gratitude to Marnie for cutting her off while she could still stand. She wasn’t used to drinking, except the occasional glass of wine Slade ordered for her.

“The store is next door. What do you need?” Marnie asked. “I’ll have someone pick your items up.”

“Well, I need some underwear, for starters. Dex didn’t pack any. He said I wasn’t allowed to wear them, but now that I’ve left, I’ll wear anything I like. And I like underwear.” She heard the men behind her erupt into a rumble of chatter. She turned to find some of them texting. Others blatantly talked amongst themselves.

“The new girl ain’t wearin’ no underwear.”

Hannah held her head high and glared at the man who’d made that statement. He had to be at least six foot five and all of twenty-one, but neither trait excused him from using double negatives, at least not in Hannah’s book. “It’s more correct to say that I am not wearing any underwear. It’s also rude to point that out.” She turned back to Marnie. “I would also love a bra.”

“I told you she didn’t have no bra on. I can tell.”

Hannah glared over her shoulder at yet another man. He was smaller, but seemed to have his height-advantaged friend’s trouble with grammar.

“Sorry, ma’am,” he said, a flush turning his skin a dark brown. “I meant to say that you haven’t got a bra on.”