Murder, Mayhem, Monsters, and Mistletoe

by Lindy Spencer

  Four

  Roman smiled as he watched his wife sit in stoic silence in the corner of the back seat. She was keeping up her haughty iciness damned well, overall. He hadn't expected her to awaken before their arrival at the cabin, but had taken the precaution of slipping a blindfold over her eyes, just in case, so his surprise wouldn't be ruined. But she'd awakened too soon, and in order to keep his plan under wraps, he'd disguised his voice enough that between her blindness and the uncertainty of the situation, she was unable to recognize him by just his words.

  And he'd taken advantage of the situation. It had pained him to hear the desolation in her voice when she said that her husband preferred his secretary to her, but then he'd felt damned near heroic when she'd threatened that her husband would make him regret taking her. And he hadn't missed that little shiver that shot through her when he mentioned tying her up…

  Gritting his teeth, Roman fought the urge to reach out and drag her into his lap, whip off that scrap of material over her eyes, and kiss her senseless before sinking his fangs into the satin skin of her throat. But though the need to take his sexy wife in the backseat of the car was overwhelming, he forced his baser urges into submission. He needed to make things right between them before he made love to her again, needed her to know that he was sorry for making her feel so insignificant and unwanted.

  A soft sound reached his ears then, and looking over, he saw Sabrina lean her head against the window. "Please," he heard her whisper, "Please just let me go; I swear I won't tell anyone what happened. I just want to go home and spend Christmas with Roman; he's going to be so worried."

  Even as his heart broke it melted. Leave it to his beautiful wife to be so sweet at a time like this. Reaching out, Roman pulled her into his side and pressed her head against his shoulder. "Rest," he told her, pressing his cheek against the top of her head, "You'll understand soon."

  It was obvious by the stiff way she held herself that Sabrina didn't intend to allow herself to be comforted by her kidnapper, but as the minutes passed in silence and the car continued its way along the winding road of the mountains, even she was unable to maintain her icy disdain for long. Eventually, her body relaxed against him and he soon became aware that she had fallen asleep.

  They arrived at the cabin just hours before dawn. With his driver's help, Roman was able to get Sabrina into the cabin and settled under the blankets of the king sized bed in the master bedroom without awakening her. After making sure he had everything he needed, he sent the driver home to the city with instructions to return for them on New Year's Day. Then, with a jaw cracking yawn, Roman lit a fire in the bedroom fireplace and once it was burning brightly, he stripped and, leaving his clothing where they dropped on the floor, turned to crawl into bed beside his wife. Rolling onto his side, Roman watched her sleep, knowing that he had a lot of groveling and explaining to do to make things right between them once more. Yawning again, he pulled her into the curve of his body and luxuriated in the way she snuggled against him. Reaching up, he carefully removed the blindfold and tossed it on the floor beside the bed. When Sabrina awakened in the morning, he wanted her to see who it was that held her, safe and warm, as she slept.

  Then, as so often happened once he had Sabrina in his arms, his worries and troubles eased away, and he was able to close his eyes and sleep.

  Sabrina's eyes fluttered open as the sweetest dream she'd ever had slowly faded from her mind.

  Roman and she sat together, laughing as they watched their children play. Bright and colorful wrapping paper littered the floor around the boy and girl and Christmas lights twinkled on the tree as carols played softly in the background. She watched as her little girl climbed her feet and clamber onto Roman's lap.

  "Daddy," she said, her words carrying a slight lisp from the tiny fangs that were only now beginning to grow in, "I love my new baby!" She threw her arms, her doll clutched tightly in the crook of her elbow, around Roman's neck in a tight hug. "How did Santa know?"

  "That's the magic of Christmas, Princess," Roman replied, ruffling his daughter's dark hair.

  The little girl, no more than four or five years old, seemed to accept her father's explanation for she kissed his cheek then crawled into Sabrina's lap. Sabrina hugged her daughter close, taking in the youthful strength of her body and the softness of her hair against her cheek. A sense of completion, of peace welled up within her heart, and Sabrina held her daughter tighter. "Merry Christmas, sweet pea," she whispered.

  Her daughter pushed out of the embrace just enough to look up at Sabrina, her dark eyes so much like her father's. "Merry Christmas, Mommy."

  The dream faded as she awakened fully then, and blinking, she first noticed bright morning light streaming through a multi-paned window set into a wall made of smooth logs. She frowned, and blinked harder. I must still be dreaming, she thought drowsily as she watched fat, heavy snowflakes fall lazily past the window. Closing her eyes, she settled deeper into her pillow, allowing her mind to drift into slumber once more.

  She became aware of the person sharing the bed behind her as a deep rumbling snore sounded behind her less than a minute later. Her eyes popped open and she went still, not even allowing herself to breathe as she listened to the deep, slow breathing behind her, tense and frightened as the events of the previous day and evening sorted themselves out in her mind.

  Then she realized that her kidnapper was in bed with her.

  Panicked, she kicked free of the blankets, bolted from the bed, and stumbled clumsily to the bedroom door. Hands shaking, Sabrina rattled the knob, panic making her unable to make her fingers and brain work in concert. She had to get away. She had to escape. There was no way she would allow herself to be a victim. She'd go down fighting. She'd…

  "Sabrina? What's wrong, baby?"

  The sound of his voice, so dear to her, so sleep rich and sexy, hit her like a bucket of water, and she slowly turned on her heel to face the sight of her husband sitting up in bed, his hair pillow mussed.

  "Roman?"

  She whispered his name, unable to believe that he was there, that he'd found her, that he'd rescued her…

  Wait a minute….

  "It was you?"

  Roman flipped the blankets off his body, swung his legs off the side of the bed, and sat up. "I had to do something," he said, not looking at her quite yet.

  "So you made me think I'd been kidnapped?" Her voice rose in volume right alongside her disbelief as she continued to stare at her husband. "Why on Earth would you do something like this, Roman?"

  Roman pushed to his feet with a heavy sigh and turned to face her. "You weren't supposed to wake up when you did," he said, wincing at how lame his explanation sounded, even to himself, "I blindfolded you just in case, so the surprise wouldn't be ruined."

  "Why didn't you tell me?" She shrieked the words, her memories reminding her that she'd been frightened and uncertain, "Why didn't you tell me it was you? That you had a surprise for me? Why did you scare me and threaten to tie me up? I thought I was going to be raped, Roman!" She threw up her hands, palms out as he took a step towards her. "Stay away!" She cried, pressing her back against the door, "Don't touch me, Roman!" Tears blinded her as she once more turned to open the door. Now that she knew she wasn't about to be hurt or worse, her panic had calmed, but now her hands shook from anger. "I want to go home to Riverfall," she told him as she flung open the door, "And I want to go home, now." She stomped from the room, her anger palpable.

  Roman pulled on a pair of sweatpants as he crossed the room to follow his extremely irate wife. None of this was going the way he'd imagined, and if he didn't do something to smooth things over, he feared he would lose Sabrina forever.

  Walking into the main room of the cabin, Roman found Sabrina standing still before the large picture window, the expression on her face aghast as she watched the snow fall heavily. "Please tell me you have a dog team and sled," she said, not looking at him.

  Roman sighed and moved into the k
itchenette to stoke the fire in the stove in order to make breakfast. "I sent my driver back to the city once we were settled," he told her, "He won't be back until New Year's to get us."

  Sabrina spun to face him, a look of horror on her face. "You mean I'm stuck here? With you? For a week?"

  "No need to make it sound so torturous," Roman snapped back, "I am your husband, in case you've forgotten."

  "My cheating husband," Sabrina snarled back.

  "I've already told you," Roman shot back, his voice rising with his frustration, "I wasn't cheating on you! Good gods, Sabrina!" He continued, pacing the room in agitation, "You're the best damned thing that's ever happened to me! Why the hell would I do anything to destroy that?" He looked up at her and found that she was simply staring at him, tears flooding her eyes and tumbling down her cheeks.

  "You don't come home," she whispered, the words wretched with pain, "You don't come home, you aren't there when I wake up. We haven't spoken or eaten together in days, Roman. And then I walk in to find you kissing your secretary; what am I supposed to think?"

  "Amanda kissed me," Roman shot back, "And I didn't kiss her back!"

  Sabrina waved an impatient hand at him, as if dismissing his words. "Is that what this is?" The words were caustic now, "A peace offering? A buy off? Something to make me forget what I saw?"

  "Gods damn it, Sabrina!"

  Roman lunged at her, grabbed her by the upper arms, and shook her. "I have never, and would never cheat on you!" His sudden flare of anger died the moment his hands touched her, and he softened. "Why won't you believe me?"

  Sabrina stared up at Roman, unable to give voice to the hurt and worry that had plagued her for the last two weeks. "You're never home," she repeated, her voice weak and failing in the face of his frustration and anger, "You come home late, you leave early," she continued, "You and I haven't spoken in nearly a week, Roman; you may not have noticed, but I have. I've missed you so much, but you weren't ever home for me to tell you how much."

  His hold slackened and she was able to turn out of his grasp to wrap her arms around herself and stare out the window once more.

  "Baby," Roman whispered, reaching out to touch her shoulder, "I was trying to make everything perfect for us. I've been planning this get away for weeks, and I didn't realize until you walked out of my office how much I'd screwed everything up. I was so worried about work interfering and ruining my plans for us, that I was blind to what I was doing to ruin those plans."

  He stepped closer, and dared to wrap his arms around her. Despite her obvious anger with him, it seemed that she still needed and loved him; she sank back into his body without a fight when he pulled her closer. "I'm sorry, baby," he whispered against her ear, dipping his head to nuzzle her neck, "I'm so sorry I hurt you. I didn't mean to."

  A sob shook its way out of her. "Oh, Roman," she said, unable to stem the flow of tears, "I'm sorry, too." She turned in his hold and buried her face against his chest, her arms wrapping around his waist. But before he could tighten his hold, before his could soothe and calm her, Sabrina bolted from his embrace, a hand clamped over her mouth, her eyes frantically searching her surroundings. A moment later, she bolted for a door across the room.

  Just as the echo of the door slamming shut faded from Roman's hearing, a new sound reached his ears. One that had him bellowing his wife's name as he charged across the room and threw open the bathroom door.