Page 36 of My Favorite Kidnapper

He studied me over the rim of his coffee mug. “You were exhausted. No doubt from the travel and the walking miles to find your escape route.”

“Don’t forget the lingering drugs in my system.”

He shook his head. “There are no side effects to them. They are very harmless, aside from knocking you out for a while. I think you were already exhausted and reacted to them more strongly than most people. You look more rested today, which I’m glad of. You can yell louder at the police.”

I said nothing, sipping my coffee and eating my breakfast. I looked around the sun-filled room. It was charming. Simple, yet elegant and welcoming.

“You have a lovely home.”

He nodded. “I like it here. It’s quiet, and the vistas never fail to inspire me.”

“What do you do exactly?”

He tilted his head, studying me. “Curious this morning, Brianna? Wondering about your abductor?”

“Yes.”

“I’m an art dealer. I have a gallery here, larger ones in Naples and London, one in Toronto. I also collect art. I love it in every form.” He took a sip of coffee. “Your cake was a complete work of art. The attention to detail. The shape and structure. The way you created it. I had never seen anything like it. And the fact that it tasted as good as it looked? That was—” he chuckled “—the icing on the cake, to coin a phrase. Blissful. You are very talented.”

“You thought of my cake as art?”

“Yes. I see it everywhere. Art isn’t just paintings or sculptures. I can see the beauty of something in the most rudimentary of items. You simply have to look and learn to appreciate the subtle splendor of an object.” He paused. “Or a person.”

I felt my cheeks flush. The way he looked at me when he said it, I had the feeling he was talking about me. I wasn’t a great beauty; in fact, I considered myself to be quite plain. But somehow when he stared at me with that intensity, I felt different.

“So, you employ a lot of people?”

He nodded. “I also own several businesses in town and other cities. My holdings are quite vast, and I have a lot of people depending on me.”

I felt an odd sense of guilt, which I immediately tamped down.

“You should have thought of them before you kidnapped me.”

He smiled, shaking his head. “You don’t understand, Little Bee. You captivated me, and I had no choice. I needed to have you here with me. You refused to listen, so I simply made it happen. It’s what I do. I’ll accept my punishment.”

“And your businesses will suffer.”

The smile never faded from his face. “It will have been worth it to share this short time with you.”

* * *

I was nervous in the car. The town was about twenty minutes away, and Dante drove with the top down. The breeze stirred my hair and filled my head with the rich scent of the earth and sun. It was so beautiful here. In the town, he pointed out his gallery and some other shops. He pulled up to a small brick building, parking the car and unfastening his seat belt.

He handed me a passport, and I looked at it with curiosity. “That’s me,” I gasped.

“Yes. I had it made for you.”

“Is it real?”

He didn’t answer.

“Why are you giving it to me?”

“You will need it to get home,” he said. “You’ll have to get a flight and arrange to transport your things.” He indicated the building. “I’ll be in jail.”

I swallowed. “Right.”

“Can you drive a stick?”