Authors: Christy Reece
found.
McKenna didn't waste time castigating herself. It would do little good.
What was done was done. She just needed to figure out how she could
overcome her carelessness and get Damon to tell her where Jamie was. Now
that he knew she wasn't the weakling she used to be, he would be much
more wary around her. What little cover she'd had was blown. Only good
thing about that was she no longer had to act like an imbecile, nor did she
have to pretend to enjoy his hands and mouth on her. No matter what he did
to punish her, she'd never let him touch her again without causing him
extreme pain.
However, no way in hell would Damon willingly tell her where Jamie
was. How could she get him to talk?
He was planning something for today, and she greatly feared she
knew what it was. More than once since she'd been here, he'd mentioned
marriage. What other grand celebration would he be planning besides her
forced marriage to this pig she despised?
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It wouldn't matter. She'd die before she said "I do." If the minister, or
whatever the hell kind of person Damon brought in to do the deed, tried to
marry them without her consent, she'd scream no at the top of her lungs. No
one would doubt the extent of her unwillingness to marry the groom. She
would never say yes to the bastard.
Brave thoughts for a girl who could barely swallow, much less move.
What was she going to do?
Lucas paced around the room, cursing his confinement. He was
beginning to think that kidnappers were some of the rudest people alive.
This was the second time in less than a year that he had been abducted. And
both times he'd been left alone for hours at a time.
Escaping and hunting down Damon had been his goal. Unfortunately,
that wasn't going to happen until someone came to let him out. The door was
impenetrable. Not a regular household door, it had some kind of steel
reinforcement behind it, thick and solid, almost like a vault.
Lucas concluded this room had been created for one purpose: to keep
whoever was locked in it from escaping. Even the lock was impossible to
pick, which pissed him off mightily since that had been one of his best skills
at the agency. The only window in the room was a skylight about twenty
feet above him. He was tall, but not tall enough even if he stood on the bed.
The delay infuriated him; he had no real choice except to wait. He
worked hard not to think about what McKenna might be going through with
the bastard. How Hughes had gotten to her again didn't matter as much as
what he was doing to her. Since she'd left him less than a week ago, he could
only assume the bastard had nabbed her not long after they'd said goodbye.
That was good in one way--he'd hadn't had her for long. It was bad in
another, because five minutes with the perverted creep was too long. His
memory was hazy because of the drug he'd been injected with, but from
what he could remember she'd looked healthy. He had seen no new visible
scars or bruises. However, Lucas knew the worst damage Hughes might
inflict could be on the inside. Places where injuries didn't show but the pain
lingered for years.
How he wished he could erase all the damage that had been done to
her, but he couldn't. However, now that he'd found the bastard, the man's
time on this earth was limited. Failure wasn't an option; it never had been
with him. He didn't consider his attitude one of arrogance as much as one of
determination. McKenna would be freed today from the devil who'd
hounded her. What was in store for them after that was entirely up to her.
For so long she hadn't had a life at all. Had been living without
choices. After today, she would have all the choices in the world. Lucas
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hoped that choice included him.
Noises outside her room told McKenna she was about to find out what
Damon had planned. No matter what it was, she vowed that at some point
today she would get the information she'd come for. If it was the last thing
she did, Jamie Kendrick would be rescued.
The door opened, then closed. McKenna twisted her head to see a
tuxedoed Damon approach the bed. Dressed for a wedding, no doubt.
Damned if she'd let that happen. He'd have to kill her to marry her. She'd
rather be dead than wed. She felt a small amount of amusement at the
rhyme. Who knew she had a talent for grimly humorous, bad poetry?
Damon pulled up a chair beside the bed and sat down. "Good
morning, my love. I know it's considered bad luck for the groom to see the
bride before the wedding, but since there are some things I think we need to
clear up, I chose to buck tradition." He smiled. "Once you understand, we'll
pretend it never happened and we'll have the traditional wedding that I know
all young girls dream of."
Curses sprang to her mouth, and McKenna shouted at him. Only
nothing came out--a mere gasp of air, no words. Oh God, she couldn't speak!
Damon nodded, his smile one of supreme arrogance. "Your vocal
cords are frozen. After your unattractive outburst last night, I realized that
you wouldn't be able to keep your mouth shut. And let's face it, no one likes
a loudmouthed bitch for a bride."
He slid a caressing finger over her neck. "While you were
unconscious, you were injected with a drug that temporarily freezes your
vocal cords. It'll wear off in a few hours, after the ceremony, but I must say I
do like this silent side of you. I'll have to check with my medical friends to
see if it's something we can use on a regular basis. As much as I love to hear
your sweet voice, when you become a screaming shrew, it's not nearly as
pleasant. Having the drug on hand will be helpful in the coming weeks until
you become accustomed to married life."
The pain she endured to come up with a croak wasn't worth it. Letting
her eyes speak for her, she showed him contempt, revulsion, and hatred. His
widening smile told her he really didn't care what she thought.
"Here's the plan for the day. In a few minutes, Margret will arrive to
help you shower and get ready." He grinned. "Be nice to her--I think she's a
bit jealous that you're marrying me.
"Then a woman, along with her two young daughters, will come in to
assist you with your makeup and hair. Now, I know you'll want to resist, but
you need to understand something. All three are unaware of our, shall we
say, relationship difficulties. If they get any kind of hint that you aren't the
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happy bride, I will break their necks. And darling, you know full well I can
and will do that. So the choice is yours. Allow them to make you into the
beautiful bride of my dreams and we'll have a wonderful day. Or you can
come to me as a not-so-attractive bride and the mother will watch her
daughters die, before I kill her. Your choice."
He stood. "I told them about your unfortunate attack by some thugs
yesterday. They were horrified, as you might guess, and have promised to
cover all of your bruises. And they understand that you can't speak. They're
so sweet and sympathetic. Especially the young girls. I'd hate to have to kill
them."
On his way out of the room, he stopped and turned. "We'll have a
happy life together, McKenna. How soon that happens is entirely up to you."
His smile grew wider. "I can't wait for you to see the preparations I've made
or the special gift I brought you. This day will be memorable for both of us."
Tied up and mute, McKenna could only glare at him as he went out
the door. He had her exactly where he wanted her, but not for long. There
was no way in hell she would jeopardize three innocent lives. And he knew
that. But once she was assured of their safety, she'd be damned if Damon
didn't pay.
For so long she had wanted to see him dead. She had told Noah that
she couldn't do the deed. Now she knew she could. However, Damon
couldn't die until he gave her the information she needed. If Jamie was dead,
her body should be returned to her family for burial. But if she was still
alive, then she needed to be rescued.
She would go along with Damon until she could get him alone. And
then the man would learn that her well-placed kick last night was nothing
but a mere twinge compared to what she was capable of delivering.
Damon stood in the midst of beauty. He had demanded that a modernday garden of Eden be created, and his commands had been obeyed. Flowers
of every hue and variety were represented. Some were in pots, lining the
walkway to the arbor; others hung from hooks attached to invisible wires
and looked as though they were floating in the air. Every flowering tree
available stood in the background.
The wedding planner had exceeded his expectations. When he'd called
and informed her that the wedding was back on and she had even less time
than before, he had expected at least a small protest. There had been a long
pause and then she had agreed to his requests. Having that much power was
a powerful aphrodisiac. Despite the injury McKenna had inflicted last night,
Damon was more than ready for his honeymoon. He might not be able to
perform as quickly as usual, but there were many things he intended to do to
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his bride, all of which would give him satisfaction and pleasure in some
way. And he was certain one of them would resurrect his injured manhood.
Leaning down, he inhaled the floral beauty of a rare orchid. No
woman could ask for a more beautiful wedding day. Not that his bride would
appreciate the trouble he'd gone to, but that was all right. He was getting
what he'd wanted since the moment he met her. Soon McKenna Sloan would
become McKenna Hughes, and all would be as it should have been eight
years before.
It was true that the McKenna from years ago had changed. The young
and innocent girl from Nebraska had morphed into a spitfire. Damon found
himself looking forward to the challenge of taming her. He might have
eventually tired of the docile, lifeless McKenna she'd been before. This new,
strong-willed McKenna fired his blood and made him pulse with a passion
he had never felt before. She would be like a wild filly; he could barely wait
for the breaking-in to take place.
Hearing a sound, he turned and lost his breath. The bride was a vision
in white. The most beautiful bride ever, and she was his. The designer
wedding dress had cost a small fortune, but Damon hadn't minded. A girl
only had a special day like this once in a lifetime.
Fortunately, the dress, though sleeveless, was high-necked and hid the
bruises from their little spat last night. And the bruises on her right cheek
had been successfully covered. Their wedding photographs would only show
a beautiful woman on her wedding day. Years later, when McKenna looked
at their wedding album, she would be grateful he'd been so considerate.
Gratitude wasn't what he saw in her eyes at the moment, but that
didn't matter, either. She couldn't yet speak, so that smart mouth she'd
developed over the years wouldn't get her into trouble.
Her eyes glinted with hatred and her expression was one of revulsion.
He had considered trying to figure out a way to freeze her face into a smile
and had even gotten one of his pharmacist friends out of bed this morning to
discuss the possibility. The man had advised against it; the risk of possible
side effects, such as permanent nerve damage, was a bit too great.
Didn't matter. Damon knew his own smile was big enough for both of
them. As she drew closer, he held out his arms in welcome. "Darling, you
look beautiful."
Being his stubborn McKenna, she stopped walking, which meant he
had to either lower his arms or walk with them outstretched. His smile went
brighter as he lowered his arms. Once he reached her, he pulled her close
and whispered, "Darling, the anticipation of our honeymoon almost
overwhelms me. You will know such agony that your screams will be heard
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for miles. The sedative on your vocal cords will be gone by then, which
means I'm going to relish every single cry of pain."
When she tried to jerk away from him, he said softly, "The minister is
waiting for us. He was told you have laryngitis, so all that will be required of
you is a simple nod of your head at the appropriate time. If the wedding goes
without a hitch, he'll be handsomely compensated and go on his way, happy,
healthy, and completely oblivious to our relationship problems. If, however,
there's a glitch of any kind, his brain will be splattered at your feet. The
choice is yours."
Satisfied he'd made his point, Damon led her toward the arched trellis
he'd had erected just for this event. The aforementioned minister stood
waiting for them. He looked mildly curious but apparently saw nothing
wrong with the bride and groom having a small chat before the ceremony.
He would soon get a bit of a shock, but Damon had chosen this man
with great care. He might be an ordained minister, but he had more than a