Page 31 of My Favorite Kidnapper

She sat down, looking aghast. “I’m in Italy?”

“Yes.” I held out a plate of fresh breakfast pastries. “You must be hungry.”

“As if I would trust you not to drug those.”

“Pick one. I’ll take a bite and prove it’s fine.” I did want her to eat. And drink. She was still very pale.

“You could have drugged them all.”

I frowned. “That would be a waste of these wonderful treats.” I picked up one and took a bite, then chose another and did the same. I chewed and swallowed, then did it again. “Now, choose which of those you want. They are all fine.”

“I am not eating one of those. They have your cooties on them.”

“My cooties? Are we twelve?”

She snorted again. “You certainly aren’t.”

I narrowed my eyes. “Careful, Little Bee.”

She stood, pacing around the room. I let her wander, drinking my coffee and taking one of the cootie-infested pastries and eating it. It was delicious.

She must have reached her limit because she came closer, snagging a pastry from the plate and taking the cup of coffee I had poured. She moved away, sipping and chewing. I heard her low moan of appreciation, and I hid my smile by taking a drink of my coffee.

“I want to go home.”

“This is your home for the next while.”

She finished her coffee and pastry, setting down the cup with a thump. “You can’t keep me here.”

“Where are you going to go?” I asked.

“To the police.”

“I hope you speak Italian.”

“I’ll tell them you kidnapped me.”

“Good luck with that. I’m a well-respected businessman who owns a great deal of the real estate and businesses in this small town. They won’t believe you, even if you manage to make them understand.”

“How did you get me here? I don’t have a passport.”

“I procured one for you.”

“You-you have that sort of connection?”

“I have many connections, Little Bee. More than you can fathom.”

“Why did you do this?” she cried. “What have I ever done to you?”

I stood, approaching her. She backed up, hitting the wall. I stood in front of her, close enough I could feel the warmth of her body. Sense the rapid breaths she was taking. “You bewitched me. You and your delicious cakes. Your sultry voice. Your sassy mouth. I can’t get you out of my mind. I want you to bake for me. Sing for me. Dance with me. You will earn your freedom, one cake, one song, one dance at a time.”

“You’re crazy.”

“Yes, I am. About you. You’ve gotten under my skin, Little Bee. In an instant. You’re a craving I can’t satisfy. So I am going to take all I can. Every bite. Every flavor. You are going to be mine for the next while. Once my craving is done, once my sweet tooth is satisfied, you’ll go home.”

“I don’t believe you. You want more.”

I wound one of her curls around my finger. It was silky and soft. I tugged it gently. “I do want more. And you’ll give it to me. But it won’t be a part of our agreement. It will be because you want it too.”