Page 7 of Kidnapping of a Myth

“I…”

“Don’t,” Eamon interrupted. “Don’t say anything. This wasn’t the best time to tell you. You have a lot on your plate, and I won’t pressure you, so take your time. I’m not going anywhere. I can’t. You own me.”

“I don’t want you to go anywhere,” Bel whispered, hoping he heard the truth in her confession.

“Never, my little detective. Never.” Eamon leaned forward and pressed his lips to her cheek. He lingered against her skin, letting his kiss speak of how deeply he adored her.I love you. I love you. I love you.His kiss burned her alive. It destroyed her. Remade her. Renewed her. It would only take one movement, one twist of her neck, and her lips would be on his. She could claim his mouth and taste what she’d been dreaming of. It would take one simple move. One monumental decision. One Bel was terrified to make.

“Eamon? Bel?” Wendy’s voice broke the silence, and Bel straightened, their almost kiss vanishing into the air, destined not to be. “I have my head of security’s number for you.” She walked into the room, oblivious to the life-altering words that had just rewritten Bel’s fate.

“Thank you.” Bel accepted the offered post-it note and cleared her throat, praying that her head would stop spinning.

“I texted Desmee, so he’s expecting your call,” Wendy continued.

“Is he aware of the situation?”

“Yes. I called him after I spoke to Eamon this morning.”

“Why?” Bel asked, desperate to inhabit Bel Emerson the detective, and not Isobel, the woman loved by the predator she couldn’t bring herself to fear, the man her soul craved with a carnal and absolute hunger.

“What do you mean?” Wendy asked.

“Why call Eamon before your head of security? Shouldn’t he be notified first? Were you hiding something? Are you involved in this kidnapping? Or are you afraid of him? Are you worried he and his men took your brothers?”

“No?” Wendy’s answer came out as a question as she tried to process Bel’s rapid-fire concerns. “None of those. I trust Desmee explicitly, and he would never harm my brothers.”

“Then why not call him?”

“Because…” Wendy glanced at Eamon as if he might offer her aid, but he simply sat there, undoubtedly wondering why he was her first choice and not the man tasked with her family’s safety. “Because Desmee is in the city. The drive takes a few hours, and Eamon lives in Bajka.”

Bel cocked her head, knowing that wasn’t the truth, but she said nothing, content to remain silent until Wendy couldn’t bear her scrutiny.

“It was my father,” Wendy confessed, breaking under the detective’s intensity. “He told me if I ever needed help, I was to call Eamon Stone. He… he was very insistent.”

Bel glanced at Eamon, wondering if the late Mr. Darling knew the truth about her millionaire.

“He made it very clear that if something happened, Mr. Stone was a man I could trust when I couldn’t trust anyone else,” Wendy continued. “I can’t call the police. Desmee is too far away. I need Eamon, and he seems to think I need you. That’s why I called him.”

“Thank you.” Bel heard the truth in Wendy’s voice. Her request for Eamon’s help wasn’t part of an elaborate plan or born of a sinister nature. She trusted her father’s faith in him.

“I’ll call Desmee, then look through your security footage,” Bel said. “I’ll update you when I’ve completed both.”

Wendy nodded, pulling at her shirt as if unsure what to do with herself.

“How about you eat?” Bel’s tone softened, and the blonde melted under its kindness. “Your brothers need you to stay healthy. Get some breakfast, and I’ll find you when I have news.”

“I can’t eat,” Wendy whispered. “I can’t.”

Bel stood from the security console and walked to the younger woman, gripping her biceps comfortingly. “I know you’ve seen my scars. What you can’t see, though, is I recently survived a kidnapping.”

Wendy’s gaze shot to Bel’s face, anger in her eyes as she assumed Bel was mocking her, but the moment the women locked gazes, she sobbed with understanding.

“Someone took me, and I ceased to exist for weeks,” Bel continued. “I’ll spare you the details, but I understand more than you realize. Eamon didn’t bring me into this house to mock or disrespect you. He brought me because I know what it’s like to endure helplessness, and you have two choices right now. You can give up, or you can fight. I chose not to surrender, but your fight may look different from mine. Yours might be as mundane as eating, but that’s strength. Don’t let The Tinker rob you of more than he already has.”

“You survived.” Wendy wiped her nose on her blouse, the expensive fabric stained with her tears. “You escaped. My brothers will too, right?”

“I hope so. I want them too.”

Wendy nodded, sniffling as she turned toward the exit. “I guess I could stomach some fruit.”

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