Their Virgin Hostage (Masters of Ménage #5)(28)

When she'd awakened in her posh prison, she'd been surprised to find all her luggage and then some, including the cases of island wear she'd packed for her honeymoon in the Caymans. With all the sandals, swimsuits, and sundresses, she wasn't packed for Alaska-and Kinley suspected that's where she might actually be. She didn't hear the hum of a fan or air conditioner. If she'd been in upstate New York in summer, wouldn't they need some cool air by midday? 

The other bit of evidence? The warm clothing the guys had bought her. Law? He seemed like the concerned one. She was struck by the fact that none of the garments were as utilitarian as she would have expected a man to buy. The sweaters were all soft and cheerful, in colors she would have bought for herself because they complemented her complexion. The sweatpants were adorable and stylish with bling running down the pant legs. Even the socks were pink and fuzzy. It was as though someone had shopped with her taste in mind. Why would they care if the clothes they bought pleased her?

They were unusual kidnappers who apparently didn't watch TV to see how bad guys should really behave. She should probably be as scared as she'd been when she'd first awakened and realized they had locked her in the unfamiliar bedroom. But that level of fear was hard to maintain when her abductors had done little but feed and clothe her. Someone had even charged her iPad so she wouldn't be bored. If they were going to give her a diversion, Kinley didn't imagine they were going to waterboard her or stick bamboo shoots under her nails.

What they hadn't done was give her a sense of time. The sun was still up-and didn't it stay up forever in Alaska in the summer?-but she had no idea how many hours had gone by. They'd taken all the clocks. Without Internet, her tablet wouldn't tell the time in her current time zone. And she'd never gotten a cellular data plan for it. The rest of the room was bare with the exception of a plush queen bed, an elegant nightstand, one chair, and a lamp that hadn't proven to be as sturdy as the locked window. One blow and it was broken.

Maybe not her best move. When night fell would she be left alone in the dark?

She gazed out the window at the mountains in the distance, heavily covered by green everywhere-trees, bushes, soft grass, dotted with a few fledging flowers, all surrounding a lake. The views were sweeping, incredible. She'd only been to upstate New York once, so she certainly hadn't seen all of it, but the bit she recalled hadn't looked this majestic. Still, she had to hold out hope that she wasn't too far from civilization to escape, that home wasn't over four thousand miles away …

A brief knock sounded on the door before it opened too quickly for her to barricade it.

The biggest one walked in carrying the one thing guaranteed to make her feel better.

"I thought you might want her." He held Gigi in his big, callused hands that had been so gentle when he'd gotten her out of that god-awful corset. He was Law. The name suited him.

Her sweet Yorkie looked no worse for the wear. Gigi's little body shook, and she yipped and barked with joy.

With tears of relief, Kinley grabbed her sweet little puppy and held her close, filled with a guilty sense of happiness. She hated that Gigi and been nabbed and wondered how she'd been enduring captivity so far. But she was so relieved to have her puppy-one of her most beloved comforts-here with her.

"They brought you here? Oh, baby girl. Are you okay? Were you scared?"

Gigi just licked her nose, rubbing their faces together.

"She might have been scared, but she fought back." A lopsided grin bent Law's lips. God, when he smiled, her heart tended to stutter in a way it shouldn't about a man who had kidnapped and drugged her. A criminal shouldn't have a smile like that. "She had the good sense to bite the shit out of my brother. He struck out with both the Kohl females."

Silently, Kinley cheered on her dog. "Gigi is the sweetest little thing to me. Not so much to others. And she can bark like crazy when she doesn't get her food on time. She's used to being fed twice a day and she knows when it's dinner time."



       
         
       
        

"Ah, that explains a lot. She's been a little high strung." He sobered as he looked at the lamp on the floor. "Did you try to break the windows or was the lamp just particularly offensive?"

"You can't expect me to not try to escape." She turned away. Maybe if she ignored him, he would leave. Being alone was preferable to being with criminals.

Was Greg a criminal?

"The windows are hurricane glass. A couple of years back, the owners had some trouble with hunters and stray bullets. They have kids and a whole lot of money, so they changed all the windows in the house. They're very heavy and almost impossible to shatter. The house has a top-of-the-line security system in place as well. We'd know if you somehow managed to even crack a window and we'd be on you very quickly." His voice softened. "You can't get away, Kinley, and you wouldn't be very happy if you did. We're miles away from anything you'd call civilization. There really are bears out there. You could get hurt."