Page 53 of Love Bites
“I saved you and your family from the poor house, Katheryn. The only reason you aren’t dead in a ditch somewhere is because it was my money that paid off everything they owed.”
“Right! You gave me the job, but I paid the money. As if I’d believe you would pay a huge amount of money to save a couple you didn’t even know? Please, Hunter, I’m not stupid.”
He chuckled. “Of course not. You don’t do something in return for nothing. Everything comes at a price. Your parents gave me something in exchange for the lives they now live.”
“Oh, and what was that?” Katheryn was almost afraid to ask, somehow knowing what it would be before he answered.
“They gave me you.”
She felt her world give out from beneath her but somehow just barely managed to grab onto the edge. “I don’t believe you,” she said shakily.
Deep in her heart, however, she recognized the truth. Her parents had sold her to Hunter Francis like a common whore in order to pay off what they owed. It all made sense. It was why they had pressured her and manipulated her into being with him. Why they were so upset she had run off to Spain, and didn’t care whether he had cheated or not.
The realization shook her to the core.
“Your parents sold you to me. I own you, and I’m not letting you leave. Wewillgo home, and youwillmarry me.”
Katheryn swallowed her rising sob. “I will not. I don’t care what my parents promised you, I’m not going to do it. Now let me out of this damn car!”
She beat on the car window and screamed, hoping someone would hear her. She knew it was hopeless, but she had to try something. Jumping from the moving vehicle looked more promising. She tried the handle but it was locked and the buttons wouldn’t budge.
“Stop your hysterics!” Hunter demanded, menacingly, then reached across the seat and slapped her across the face.
The pain was instant and had her gasping, covering her cheek with her hand. The bruise stung, the heat searing her cheek. A lump formed in her throat. Hunter had never hit her before and the shock of it as much as the pain had her eyes filling with tears.
She lapsed into silent fear, knowing if she continued shouting he would strike her again. She leaned her warm face against the cool, tinted window and, closing her eyes, controlled her breathing as she took stock of her situation.
She was being kidnapped. He was taking her back to Washington, where he would probably lock her up until she “came to her senses.” Katheryn wondered if she might be able to escape before that. Maybe, she could claim she had to pee and slip away if he thought she was going to the bathroom. But knowing him, he probably planned to take her straight onto the plane and follow her everywhere until he could lock her up in a room with guards to watch her. If he locked her up, she’d climb out a window. She didn’t care how high it might be. She’d make a rope ladder from sheets or clothes or whatever she could find. She refused to be his prisoner.
Her thoughts drifted to Ignacio. He had never hit her, had never been anything but gentle both in actions and in words. He had only spoken sweet melodies that made her heart skip in rhythms they never had before. He made love to her the way he played an instrument: with a passion both gentle and sincere.
Now, Katheryn found herself in Hunter’s clutches, and who knew if she’d ever be free of him.
24
Ignacio was in a rush.
He’d never cooked human food before and had refused to ask his mother for help. He wanted to do this on his own. After an hour of struggling and burning pans, he was finally able to create the romantic dinner Katheryn deserved.
The table was cleared and set with plates, bowls and wine glasses. He’d scattered red rose petals all over it and lit long white candles for the desired effect. The lights were dimmed, and the flames of the candles cast an golden glow over the setting.
Ignacio wore his finest suit, an apron thrown hastily over it so as to not get dirty. He couldn’t wait to see Katheryn, he thought eagerly as he placed a bottle of wine in a tin can full of ice to chill on the table. He wouldn’t drink or eat any of the food he’d made, but he was sure she would enjoy it. He’d made Alfredo pasta—he’d read it was a romantic food for a date—and laid sliced bread on a plate, and to top it off for dessert he had bright red strawberries and warm, melted chocolate.
He hoped she wore the dress he’d sent to her. Ignacio was positive she would look absolutely ravishing in it. He imagined her now and felt the color and blood drain from his head to travel straight to his cock.
He busied himself, trying to distract the sexual thoughts by handling last minute clean up as he waited. Ignacio found himself glancing at the clock often, chewing at his bottom lip as the hour grew later and later. He would have picked her up, but he’d been so busy with prepping, that they’d agreed she would take a cab to his place.
By the time an hour passed and she hadn’t arrived, let alone answered her phone, Ignacio grew worried. He all but ran out of the house and took a cab to her hotel room. He went up to her room and knocked, but she didn’t answer. He pressed his ear to the door just to make sure there was no noise from inside.
He tried the knob.
“Are you looking for your redheaded friend?”
Ignacio stopped wiggling uselessly at the doorknob and turned to face a woman in a maid’s uniform, pushing a cleaning cart down the hallway. He recognized her as the woman in charge of cleaning Katheryn’s room. It wasn’t the first time he’d shared words with her during his many visits to see his Soul Mate.
“Have you seen her?”
“No, but I saw someone come out of the room with all her stuff in her suitcase. Because I didn’t recognize the man, I called hotel security. He claimed he worked for her fiancé and signed her out of the hotel…” The maid gave him a pitying look like she felt sorry for Ignacio for falling for a promised woman.
