Page 30 of My Favorite Kidnapper

She had slept the entire way here, barely moving from me. Her head had rested on my lap once we were airborne, and she mumbled a lot in her sleep, nestling as close as she could to me, like a magnet. When I shifted, so did she. When I got up, she grimaced and whimpered but never woke up. She sighed a small sound of relief when I would return to her. I had carried her off the plane, to the car, and then into the villa without any commotion at all.

Perhaps my calculations had been off.

I was on my feet, heading toward her immediately.

“Are you all right?”

“Am I all right?” she repeated, her voice rising. “Am I all right? I went to bed last night in my apartment, and I woke up here! How do you think I am? I don’t even know where here is!”

“You’re at my villa. I brought you here.”

“You brought me here,” she repeated. She covered her mouth. “Oh my God, you’re going to make me a sex slave and sell me.”

I almost choked on my laughter. “No, that isn’t my plan.”

“Murder me, then. You’re some kind of sicko. Your family had no idea.” She suddenly crouched into a fighting stance. “Just try, old man. I can take you.”

I held up my hands. “I am not coming at you. No harm will befall you while you are with me.”

“Too late.”

Satisfied she wasn’t going to collapse, I returned to the sofa. I indicated the one opposite me, and after a brief hesitation, she came closer but didn’t sit. Her cat jumped up on the sofa beside me, curling up and purring as I stroked her thick gray fur.

Brianna barely concealed her shock. “She hates everyone.”

“She likes me. We became friends on the flight. She likes tuna.”

“So you bribed your way into her affections.”

“I gave her what she wanted, and she gave me what I needed. It was mutually beneficial.”

“What did she do for you?”

I kept a straight face. “She didn’t shit on the carpet.”

“Shame,” Brianna muttered, staring at Roomba. “Traitor,” she hissed.

The cat ignored her, burying her head and resting one paw against my leg.

I poured a cup of coffee from the pot, added some cream, and held it out to Brianna. She looked at it and shook her head. “I don’t think so.”

I took a sip of it and set it on the table. “Nonsense. See? It’s perfectly fine. I assumed you would need some caffeine to help wake up.”

I knew she wanted it. She stared at it, refusing to move.

I poured more coffee into my cup. “Come on. I won’t bite.” I grinned. “Yet.”

She came closer, edging slowly as if I was going to spring up and grab her. I supposed I couldn’t blame her for thinking that way. “Relax, Little Bee. You’re perfectly safe.”

She snorted, the sound making me grin. “Yes, what else could happen?” she sneered. “You already kidnapped me.”

“I told you. The hard way or the easy way. You were about to run—again. Since you so obviously wanted out of the city, I brought you here. Much nicer than that cabin you were going to hide in.”

She looked startled that I knew where she was going, but she pushed on.

“Which is where, exactly?”

I took a sip of coffee. “On the coast of Italy.”