Captive at Christmas (5 page)

Now we’re making some headway
, she mused triumphantly. “You’re welcome.”

“Goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” she replied with a smile.

Making up a bed on the couch, she turned the lights in the main cabin off and settled herself in front of the fire. She tried to keep her eyes open, to stay awake but fatigue won, taking her into a sleep filled with horrible nightmares starring Erik and John. The two men needed someone to reach out and hold them, to be their rock.

But she had to choose one of them, she couldn’t save them both.

~~~

When she woke up with her teeth chattering and bladder screaming, Hannah blindly searched for the blanket. She wasn’t in a bed…

Opening her eyes, she saw the couch, fireplace and kitchen of the small cabin. Bathroom, she needed to use the toilet desperately. The only one resided in the bedroom, where John slept. Though she didn’t want to bother him, these were desperate times.

Blanket wrapped firmly around her shoulders, Hannah tiptoed over to the door and pressed her ear against it. No sound came through so she lightly knocked and heard the slam of boots on the carpeted floor and a string of expletives that would give a nun a heart attack. The door swung open and she was greeted by a furious man and the muzzle of a gun.

“What?” he growled.

Treacherously close to emptying her bladder where she stood, Hannah uttered just one word while squeezing her thighs together. “Bathroom.”

John grunted and lowered the weapon in response. She nearly ran to it and shut the door, barely making it in time. Once she used the restroom, Hannah recognized the tension in her body and mind.

Hung-over.

Great
, she sighed, washing her hands.

John sat on the edge of the bed, rubbing his eyes. At least he looked as though he might feel just as rough as she did.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t want to wake you, but I needed to use the restroom.”

“It’s fine, I’m just bushed.”

The softness of the bed proved to be too much of an invitation and Hannah sat down beside him. “I’ve got a crick in my neck the size of a grapefruit. At least you had a bed,” she laughed.

“Hmm, that doesn’t mean I slept much.”

“Too worried about the little bookstore owner from Canada on the couch?” Hannah teased, even though she knew it might get her into trouble. Perhaps a little lightening of the mood might help.

He laughed; a deeply sensual sound that rattled her senses and shocked her system. She swallowed hard, trying to force her rapid pulse to slow. Never before did a man have such a profound effect on her and Hannah couldn’t figure out why.

Especially one that she knew so little about.

“You got it, lady. That and jeans aren’t exactly the most comfortable things to sleep in.”

“Well, maybe you shouldn’t have slept in your clothes then.”

Raising his eyebrows, he chuckled. “So you’re saying you would prefer I slept in the usual nothing?”

“I-I…didn’t say that.” Prickling heat spread through her entire body.

He laughed again, long and hard. “Now, what does a man have to do around here to get some breakfast?”

Hannah sighed and fell back on the bed. The most comfortable bed she
never
had the pleasure of sleeping in. “I can’t think about food right now, I feel awful,” she admitted. “There’s cake, bread and rolls, home-made preserves in the fridge and some fruit as well. Mind if I just lie here for a bit?”

“Not at all. Want some coffee?”

“Mm-hmm. In a little while. Ugh, my neck.” She slithered up the bed in the darkened room, pushing her face into the pillow once she turned onto her stomach. “I think you might have to sleep on the couch tonight while I take the bed.”

That deep laughter filled the room once more. “Not on your life.”

The first thing that went through Hannah’s mind as his hands pressed down on her neck was that John wanted to strangle her. Lying stiffly as she could, she held her breath and waited for death.

But he didn’t smother her, instead, his strong hands massaged out the ache. Oh, he had some magic fingers, expertly stroking away her discomfort like he was playing an instrument. A soft moan escaped her lips, startling them both and in one swift motion, he flipped Hannah onto her back.

Mere inches from her face, he stared at her with unease, but she noticed how different this look was from the others. It told her that he might be feeling just as confused as she did, unable to explain the nameless thing sparking between them. The warmth of his breath on her lips certainly didn’t help the heat and desire escalating inside her.

One of his rough fingertips gently traced an invisible line from her throat, along the edge of her jaw and finally rested hesitantly above her lips. Such tenderness coming from a man who desperately seemed to need love caused her to melt. But was he showing it to her because she was the only one there?

“John,” she whispered, cringing at her wispy voice.

Tense and guarded again, he rose and stalked out of the room. Banging in the kitchen had her on her feet to see what he was doing. John put a pot of water on to boil and hunched over the stove. His large frame shook as he hissed the air from his lungs. She had to resist the urge to go to him, lest she spark another one of his alarming reactions.

The ache in her head too great for such considerations, Hannah found her toiletry bag and took two pain pills before getting into the shower. The pounding of water on her neck could not compare to his touch, but it still did a little to ease the tension. She washed her hair, scrubbed and finally ran out of reasons to stay in the shower. She was hiding like a coward with the inability to confront her emotions and physical reactions to the largest human conundrum that she had ever come in contact with.

On the second morning, Hannah woke with an equally sore neck and an even worse hangover. While pondering the reasons for over-indulging in the wine she brought, she cracked a few eggs into the pan and sprinkled the yolks with sea salt and pepper. John hunched over the hearth, re-starting the fire to bring some warmth back into their tiny luxury cabin.

With the eggs cooking, she filled two plates with bacon and buttered toast, poured two cups of strong coffee and then placed two eggs on her plate, four on John’s. The man ate like it was his last meal every meal and she brought far too many eggs. Besides, it felt good to prepare meals for someone who enjoyed it – unlike Gary. He never took any joy in food, or in her, she had to remind herself.

“Wow, if you continue to spoil me, I might have to keep you!”

Hannah tried not to smile too broadly as she sat down at the counter with John. Every bit of praise or positive conversation they shared felt like she gained a part of her brother back. “Eat up,” she instructed, gently patting his hand.

Going back to his usual growling self, he dove into his breakfast while she held back a giggle. Hannah was beginning to see past the hard protective shell he put up around himself and into the man who wanted, who desperately needed some regular human contact in his life.

“This is perfect, Hannah. Just how I like my eggs.”

More praise! She felt so light today and vowed to do everything she could to keep things like this between them until bedtime tonight – at least. “My brother preferred them like this too, so did a few of his friends. I think a lot of men do. But, I am glad that I have made you happy.”

He eyed her suspiciously for a moment and Hannah smiled, bringing the coffee cup to her lips. Not saying another word, she finished her breakfast and lightly touched his shoulder before setting her dishes in the sink. John would not follow her to the bathroom today, she knew that much since he had not done so last night.

She showered and dressed, taking a new book into the lounge where she settled herself on the couch. A short time later, he excused himself into the bedroom with an incoherent grumble and then she heard the water running. So much for a better day, she sighed, noting the continuous snowfall out the window.

Minutes and hours blended seamlessly into days. Very slowly, the man sharing this cabin with her gave the impression that he might be starting to trust her. However miniscule the amount he invested, Hannah could not be certain, but every little bit she gained went a long way in her mind.

John proved to be one of the worst cases that she had ever come across. It depressed her to think he chose to close himself off, hiding from the world rather than letting even just one person in. That he deemed himself so unworthy of something as simple as friendship. And no matter how hard she tried, he reminded her at every turn that she would always be an outsider to his world.

Never one to give up, Hannah rose early on a particularly chilly morning, put a new log on the fire and went into the kitchen. The night before, he mentioned that it had been a while since he’d eaten cinnamon buns, which were his favourite breakfast item – besides bacon and eggs, of course, which he asked for most mornings – so she decided to make some for him.

Soon the small space filled with the scent of cinnamon and the cranky bear in the bedroom came out to see why. Hannah greeted him with a nod from the counter and a fresh cup of coffee, though she knew better than to attempt any conversation with him in the mornings unless he initiated.

This morning, he did.

“What’s that?” John eyed the oven.

She smiled from behind her mug. “A surprise.”

The steel-grey irises regarded her with what she thought might be gratitude, but a second later, flashed with indignation. “I don’t like surprises.”

Suddenly, all of her pent up frustrations bubbled to the surface. Like someone lit a fire beneath her and she boiled over. “You know what? I’m sick and tired of your attitude towards me, John. I don’t have to do any of the things that I do for you, especially since you still treat me like I’m some kind of criminal, but I do them anyways. Why? Because we might as well attempt to enjoy our time here.

“You want to know the worst thing I’ve ever done in my life? I sped. Yup. I drove over the speed limit, taking a woman in labour to the hospital and got her there just in time to have her baby right in the front entrance of the emergency room.”

Hannah paused to catch her breath, ignoring his wide eyes and parted lips. “And, because you mentioned that you love cinnamon buns so much, I got up early to make some for you this morning.
That
is your surprise. Still don’t like it?”

Chest heaving, she glared at John with unwavering challenge. Neither one wanted back down, to be the first to break eye contact. The man across from her had no idea how stubborn she could be, even after spending the past few days cooped up in this small space with her.

To her surprise and irritation, John threw his head back and bellowed out a harsh, cutting laugh. A fist of emotions clogged her throat and she turned away, just as the timer on the oven sounded. Hannah welcomed the distraction of icing the cinnamon buns while he continued to laugh at her. It felt like such a slap in the face after all of the effort she put into the surprise for him.

The second she finished pouring warmed icing over the baked goods, Hannah escaped his taunting chuckle and closed herself in the bedroom, unable to stop the sluice of tears that sprang from her eyes. She buried her face into the pillow that, unfortunately, smelled just like the insufferable man.

“Hannah?”

His voice caused her to hold her breath and his hand on her back made her stiffen, though a few other sensations began spiralling out of control inside her as it moved in a slow, firm circle. One minute, John was cold and distant, the next he shattered her resolve with a passionate touch.

“I’m so, so sorry, I really didn’t mean to upset you.” He continued his assault on her back, moving his large hands, continuously kneading out the tension. Forcing her to become putty beneath his powerful hands. “It was a boorish thing to do, laughing like I did.”

When he tugged on her shoulder, she rolled to her back and stared up into his strong, wide and stubble-roughened jaw. She took a slow perusal up to his eyes, not failing to notice the desire so clearly displayed in their depths. He simply had to look at her and she dissolved beneath his gaze, turning hot, breathless and frantic to taste him.