Luckily, the rest of the time he left her alone so she could plot her escape.
And plot she did.
She didn’t have any shoes but she did have a bunch of socks and he had several pairs of boots.
Okay, so his feet were large like his hands.
But if she put enough socks on, maybe she could keep his boots on her feet long enough for her to get away.
And get away she was going to do. It had been thirty-one years since she wandered this forest with her father but when she was a kid she wandered with him all the time and she had a good memory. Her father loved being out of doors, especially at night, and he took Sonia with him.
The animals weren’t only unafraid of her. Her father, too, had that particular gift. They saw wildlife in the moonlight with their night vision (her father had that too) and she remembered, quite keenly, that those times were magical.
She also remembered a cave not too far away that her father had shown her.
Not only shelter but she would imagine that Callum would guess she’d seek assistance, not shelter herself in a cave until the coast was clear.
She could take a blanket, wrap up some food and she would go, hang out there until the weather cleared and then move out, find someone and report her kidnapping.
If it kept snowing, her footprints would be covered in minutes.
Further, she had better hearing, eyesight and smell than Callum. She’d be able to sense him if he came after her.
He was, it came to her too late after all that had happened that morning, that presence she’d sensed last night, the alluring one as, obviously, the cosmos could play a pretty mean joke. She’d noticed it (and it broke her heart) the instant he walked in from finishing with the logs and it had invaded the house when she opened his bag and put away his clothes.
If he came after her, got anywhere near her, she’d know it.
Once she got her medication, she hoped it didn’t quit snowing. Then she could get away from that scary, bossy (but handsome) jerk.
They’d had dinner and she’d made a big one. Steak, baked potatoes (with butter and sour cream, her hips were never going to forgive her), veggies and rolls. She didn’t want to give him reason to pin her against the counter or do anything else that set her teeth on edge and made her want to scratch his eyes out. And she told herself the meal wasn’t absolutely delicious (when it was).
Now she was going to have tea, examine the cupboards to plan what to take with her, pray that his “man” could get through the thick blanket of snow that was still falling and then she was going to call it a night.
Through the whistle of the kettle, she sensed it.
Someone was coming.
She didn’t make a move or give any indication that she felt anything.
But she knew they were coming.
Oh my God! I hope it’s park rangers, she thought.
“Wait here,” Callum ordered and her head snapped up.
He slid off the stool and went swiftly to the walk-in closet. He exited carrying some of his clothes and a pair of his boots.
He walked directly to the door, turned to her and stated, “I’ll be back in five minutes. Make coffee.”
Then he was gone.
She stared at the door.
What was he doing now?
Then she thought, Five minutes.
Did she have enough time to gather what she needed, bulk up on clothes and get out of there? Maybe even waylay who was out there and ask for their assistance?
No.
It was too much of a risk.
She’d have to do it when he was sleeping. Five minutes wouldn’t give her a good enough head start and if she didn’t manage to find whoever was out there, even with her keen senses in this storm she might get lost.
She didn’t need to go from the frying pan (kidnapped by a madman) to the fire (lost in a snowstorm).
She needed to stick to her plan.
She moved to the coffeepot and it was dripping away when the door opened.
Sonia turned to the door and stared.
Through its frame came Callum followed by another man, dark-haired too, also tall (not as tall as Callum, two, three inches shorter), muscular but without the same bulk. He looked younger as well.
But she stared because he was wearing Callum’s clothes.
What on earth?
They entered, Callum closed the door, the man’s eyes came to her face and then he dropped immediately to a knee.
Sonia braced for action (though she had no idea what she would do) as she thought for a second he might be overcome by hypothermia or something. But she watched as his hand came out to the floor beside his knee and his head dropped down.
Then, in a strong, deep voice that carried across the room but, no matter, she’d have heard it if he said it one hundred feet away and outside in this raging blizzard, he muttered reverentially, “My queen.”
Sonia gawped.
He stayed bowed with head low.