Page 11 of Chase Me

“Chocolate wedding cake.” All wedding cake should be chocolate, especially if it had a guy like this enjoying the taste of her.

This was exactly what she'd imagined her first kiss with Weswould be like. Kind of. Her fantasies were quite a bit dirtier than this. Jakob's hold on her waist was possessive, but his kiss was not. This position she'd gotten herself into meant he could pretty much do as he liked at the moment.

But he wasn't doing anything more than tempting her.

He nibbled at the corner of her mouth and it dawned on her that he was waiting for her permission, for her to tell him that this was what she wanted.

What a strange thing for a kidnapper to do.

What a strange thing for a kidnappee to want.

She did want it, and him. That was some long-buried emotion and unfulfilled needs talking. They needed to shut the hell up. They didn't get to talk.

“Jakob, stop.”

He froze, mid nibble.

“We hardly know each other, and besides I have a boyfriend.” That was only a partial lie, hardly even a whiteone, because she did have a date and that was halfway to boyfriend.

Jakob stiffened, released her, and stepped away. “Ah, I see.”

He did? “Oh, good. So, no more kissing or…”

If he hadn't smelled that lie, it must be true. Yeah, keep telling yourself that, Ciara.

“No, that is your choice. You may choose torture instead of seduction.” Jakob crossed the room and yanked the door open.

“Torture?” Was that her voice that squeaked like that?

“Yes, witch.” Every other time he'd called her a witch, it hadn't sounded like an insult. “I had thought to seduce the relic from you. But if you prefer lies over my kisses, you may have it that way.”

“Hey, I was the one seducing you.” She meant to shout that, girl power style. Unfortunately, that squeak in her voice was still there.

“I suggest you think long and hard about telling me exactly where you and your cohorts have hidden the relic. We'll pick this up again in this evening.” He walked out the door, shut it behind him, and Ciara heard the click of a lock.

She ran across the room and yanked on the door handle, then pounded against the door. “You don't have to get all butt hurt, just because I think you're a cruddy kisser.” Hopefully the big wooden door between them would block the scent of that little fib.

Ciara glanced around the room looking for any other way out. There were two large windows on either side of the bed, and even if she did have to wait until evening it wouldn't be long. The sun was already sinking into late afternoon, even though it felt like morning to her.

She refused to be a damsel in distress. There had to be a way out of here. She slid one of the windows up and immediatelytalked herself out of trying to jump down. She'd break both of her legs, maybe a hip, probably a couple ribs, her arm, and her neck if she tried to jump from here.

The bed in the room was at least a king, which meant really big sheets. Did that thing people did in the movies where they tied sheets together and climbed out of the window actually work? She was going to find out or die trying. Hopefully not the die trying part.

She threw back the covers and yanked at the top sheet. Geez, these had to be 5000 thread count.

She was kind of tired. Jet-lag or dragon-lag, which ever. The time change and no sleep was taking its toll on her. Maybe just a little nap before she tried to escape.

A quiet knock sounded at the door. Maybe her dumbass dragon had come back to apologize. Or maybe he'd come back to torture her like he promised. She picked up the lamp from the bedside table and held it like a baseball bat. The door creaked open and a plump older woman stuck her face into the room.

“Dobry den. I am Mrs. Bohacek. Jakob asked me to come up and make sure you were comfortable.”

“He did? Wait, are you a dragon too?” Ciara hefted the lamp slightly higher. Not that she could actually knock this adorable grandmother across the head with it, but grandma didn't need to know that.

“Ha. No, kiddo. I’m not.” She walked into the room carrying a tray with a mug and some sort of cookies on it in one hand, and had green flowing material draped over the other arm. She kicked the door shut with her foot, ruining any plan Ciara might have had to run out.

“Then what are you?” Ciara wasn't quite ready to set down her baseball bat lamp weapon yet.

Mrs. Bohacek crossed the room and set the fabric on the bed and the tray with the snack on the table. “I'm a lot of things. A little bit nanny, a goddess, a little bit witch.” She held out her hand for the lamp and Ciara handed it over.

---