39. Luna

39

The smells coming from the kitchen were good, but when Mark Antony slid a plate of pastries in front of me, I regarded them with suspicion.

"Did you put anything on these? GHB? A roofie?"

Monday morning, and I'd missed two shows at the Palace. Frank must have lost his mind by now. All those refunds… Didn't this cheese puff realise my professional reputation was at stake here?

"There's nothing on them, I promise. The roofie was a means to an end."

"How much did the waitress at the hotel charge you?"

He laughed heartily. "Oh, Nola didn't do it for money. She did it for love."

"Love? She…loves you?"

What about the whole "wife" thing? Yesterday over a dinner of venison, mashed potatoes, and honey-roasted carrots, Mark had asked why I hadn't worn the jewellery he'd gifted me, and I'd had to bluff my way through the conversation. Better to tell him the cuff and earrings were safely tucked up in the hotel safe than admit one present was in an evidence locker and the other had been lost by a school kid. Then he'd presented me with a ring. He hadn't said it was an engagement ring, not in so many words, but he'd slid it onto that finger. Then cursed under his breath when it got stuck at the knuckle. My hands were bigger than he thought, he said.

The awkwardness had continued after dinner when he tried to kiss me. It was a situation I'd faced a hundred times—the unwanted attention—and I knew to wait until the last second to turn my head so his lips landed on my cheek instead. Then I braced for anger, but what I got was…hurt.

"Is everything okay?" he'd asked, further proof that he was totally oblivious to regular human emotions.

"I just…" I just felt as if slugs were crawling over the inside of my skin. "I just think we're moving too fast. I mean, I understand our souls are joined on a deeper level, but we're still basically strangers, aren't we?"

"Yes, I suppose that's true."

"So we should get to know each other. Why miss out on the best part of the relationship?"

"The…courting?"

"The slow exploration of each other's psyches. Creating special moments. The delicious sense of anticipation." Dammit, he didn't look convinced. "Also, it's that time of the month, so I feel a bit squicky right now."

He'd blanched. "Uh, right. Yes, yes, I do understand. There are, uh, products in the bathroom. Kacie insisted I buy them."

"You're a good man, Mark." Gag. "The best."

"So how long does that usually…you know, last?"

"Like, a week? Do you have Tylenol? And I could really use a hot-water bottle or one of those wheat bags you put in the microwave."

The one Ryder had bought for me was shaped like a piglet. It was possibly the sweetest gift I'd ever received.

"I'll have to pick one up in town."

I cringed as I reached across the table and squeezed Mark Antony's hand. "I'd appreciate that."

Phew. I'd bought a week. A week before my captor would try to touch me down there. Now Ryder had to do his part and get me the hell out of this place. And he would. I'd only been here for two days, and he had to be hot on the trail.

All I had to do was keep pretending.

No biggie.

Which was why on the morning of day three, I smiled and sipped the cup of coffee Mark Antony had poured for me.

"No need to worry, dimidium. Nola and I aren't involved." He seemed to find the idea amusing. "She loves her son, not me."

"I don't understand."

"I'm sorry the photographers bothered you so much. It was me who spotted one of them trying to sneak backstage, did you know that? When I radioed through, a colleague caught him and escorted him out of the hotel." A colleague? Mark Antony worked at the Nile Palace? "The photographer had stolen a staff pass." He shook his head. "Unbelievable."

Did he not see the irony in his words?

"Thanks for helping out."

I felt sick inside. He was staff. When I moved into the suite at the Nile Palace, I'd played right into his hands.

"You're very welcome, my queen. Anyhow, it was quite understandable that you'd want men prevented from going near your suite, but it did make things a little challenging." A chuckle. "I picked up Nola's son, and then arranged an exchange."

"Picked him up?" A chill ran through me. "Like, you kidnapped him?"

A child? There was a child involved in this crap show? Ohmigosh. Where was he now? Tell me Ryder was looking for him too?

"‘Kidnapped' is such a strong word. Nola's a lovely lady, bless her heart, but irresponsible when it comes to motherhood. Whenever she couldn't get a sitter, she'd just leave the boy alone in their apartment. If you think about it, I actually did her a favour."

"How? How did you do her a favour?"

"I doubt she'll make the same mistake again. This has been a learning experience for her."

"Where's the boy?"

"I left him eating breakfast in a fast-food restaurant."

"And he's okay? Nola picked him up?"

"I expect so. He promised not to speak with strangers while he waited for her to arrive." Mark Antony echoed my earlier gesture and reached for my hand, and I fought the shudder when he ran a thumb over my knuckles. "I'm sure you're going to make an excellent mother. You won't need to work, of course."

What the actual heck? He thought we were going to have kids together? That it was a unilateral decision, no discussion required? I hadn't even had that talk with Ryder, and he was the man I wanted to marry. I mean, a baby would be amazing—when I was little, I'd always imagined that I'd have a family—but it seemed premature to go there when I hadn't even managed the sex part yet. Plus there were our future careers to think about. A break in Virginia would be balm for my soul, but I couldn't expect him to support me forever.

Hurry up and rescue me.

I opened my mouth to change the subject, then jumped as a bang sounded from outside. Ryder? Had he found me already?

Mark Antony didn't bat an eye. "Relax, it's only hunters."

"They sound close?"

"We own the whole hillside, but only six acres around the house is fenced. Hunters occasionally stray onto the rest of the property. If you ever go for a walk, make sure you wear orange—nobody wants an accident."

Sheesh. That made the decision on whether to run screaming into the night much easier.

"What are they hunting?"

"At this time of year? Foxes and jackrabbits, I expect. Maybe a coyote. Or…" He glanced at his watch, which was one of those fancy ones with lots of little dials and the date. "Yes, summer bear season just started."

My heart stuttered. "There are b-b-bears around here?"

"And the occasional mountain lion. Sometimes they come right up to the gates."

Yikes. Staying put was definitely the way to go. And besides, what would I do with Rocky if I made a break for it? He was still meant to be on restricted exercise, and if the roofie had damaged his heart, I was gonna chop off Mark Antony's balls and feed them to the freaking coyotes. Or maybe I'd get Ryder to do it because Mark Antony was bigger than me, but it was the thought that counted.

"I hope you keep the gates shut."

"There's a sturdy latch."

A latch? He hadn't mentioned a padlock. Did that mean they weren't locked? I wasn't about to become bear chow, of course, but it would mean Ryder could get in more easily. Unless he got eaten by a bear. No. No, that wouldn't happen. I had to think positive.

"Phew." I bit into a pain au chocolat, but the pastry turned to sawdust in my mouth. "Do you ever go hunting?"

"Only in season. I shot the deer we ate for dinner last night."

This got worse and worse. He had guns and probably a knife too, if he'd chopped up the deer. And all I could do was pretend. Pretend everything was fine and avoid antagonising my abductor. We each had to play to our strengths, and mine was living a lie.

Thanks, Mom.

"Kacie, I think I can convince him to take off your chain, but…" I narrowed my eyes at Michelle. "But he doesn't much like you. I can't think why. He says you have a bad attitude."

"A bad attitude? You'd bitch too if you were expected to wait hand and foot on a spoiled singer and a delusional asshole."

"I've told you twenty times already, I didn't freaking ask for this."

"Whatever. You're gettin' awful friendly with him."

"I'm doing whatever it takes to get us out of here."

And it was exhausting. I'd survived breakfast, lunch, and dinner, plus a bunch of mansplaining and a dash of good old-fashioned misogyny. Mark Antony assumed that my entire career had been a mistake. That deep down, every woman was just dying for a man to take care of her. Ugh. In some ways, he was really, really smart, like with all the Egyptian stuff, plus I had to admit that his kidnapping plan was well thought through. But in other ways, he was dumb as a box of rocks. If he wanted a stay-at-home-mom type of woman, there were literally dating apps for that, and I bet if one of those girls saw his fancy log mansion, they'd even pretend to be Cleopatra.

We'd also been for a walk outside with Rocky, although he'd kept giving my darling dog dirty looks, and there was literally nothing for miles but trees. Trees and the occasional gunshot. Then he'd found me a bottle of Tylenol and swallowed a couple himself because the bite wound on his ankle hurt.

Good boy, Rocky. Good boy.

"If he lets me loose, then what do we do?" Kacie asked. "Should we go for help?"

"Nuh-uh. No way. There are bears out there. And even if Michelle does nothing but complain, we can't leave her behind."

"So we just stay here forever?"

"No, I already told you, my boyfriend will?—"

"Rescue us," Michelle finished. "Yeah, yeah, we know. Everyone but me is living in cloud cuckoo land. I'm going to bed."

She stomped off to the room she shared with Kacie, the chain jingling behind her. Didn't she understand that this would be easier if we all worked together?

"I'm stuck in a nightmare. Pinch me, would you?"

Kacie actually did.

"Ouch!"

"Sorry."

I sank onto the couch and groaned. Rocky hopped up next to me, circled a couple of times to get comfortable, and rested his head on my thigh. "Another day down. Hopefully, we can get out of here tomorrow."

"You really think your boyfriend will come?"

"One hundred percent. He's gonna be tearing the world apart looking for me."

"But I don't understand how he'll find us. Michelle says you're dating some DJ who has more money than talent."

It was the first time I'd laughed since I'd arrived at the Egyptian temple-log cabin mashup, mainly because that wasn't a totally inaccurate description of Kory.

"You mean DJ Sykik? He has some talent, and definitely a lot of money. But he's just a friend."

"So who are you dating?"

"My bodyguard. I'm hopelessly in love with my bodyguard." I closed my eyes for a moment and saw Ryder's face, the cute, sleepy expression when he woke up next to me in the mornings. "And he was a Navy SEAL. To be honest, I'm more worried about him going to jail for rearranging Mark Antony's face than I am about him not finding us at all."

Kacie still didn't look convinced. "But if he's your bodyguard and you still got kidnapped, he can't be that good."

"He had to take a trip overseas. I moved into the Nile Palace because we thought I'd be safe there, but clearly that was a mistake of epic proportions." I blew out a breath. "We thought Mark Antony was one of the paparazzi, but it turns out he worked at the hotel. Don't worry; Ryder will find us. We just have to hold out for a few days longer."

"Michelle says you have Stockholm syndrome."

Stockholm syndrome. Right. That's what it was, not Copenhagen syndrome.

"I know how to handle creeps, that's all. Flatter them a bit and play to their egos, but keep them at arm's length. I thought you had Stockholm syndrome."

Kacie shook her head vigorously. "I also know how to handle creeps. The bar I work at, it doesn't have the best clientele." She ticked off the points on her fingers. "Don't antagonise them, don't outright disagree with them, smile plenty."

"At least we know Michelle doesn't have Stockholm syndrome."

This time, both of us laughed, and it felt good. These were strange times, but maybe I'd found another friend.