Nabbed in New Zealand

by Christine Edwards

  I dip my head and say into the mic, “Let’s just say that he knows exactly who he is … and the feeling is mutual.”

  “Woooooh!” the dj and drunken crowd call out. “I suppose we have a little game of clue going on with this song then! Have at it, little gal.”

  Fiona Apple’s “Criminal” fills the room. I know the song by heart and the suggestive, coy lyrics seem perfectly fitting for the lust that is mounting in me for this complete stranger. Just as the first sensual words fall from my lips, I land him with a ‘give it to me now, bad boy’ heated stare. He about drops his beer as every muscle in his body goes as tense as a two-by-four.

  I let the opening line flow from my lips, letting him know what a bad girl I’ve been, as I watch him innocently through my long lashes. I thought that I would have trouble getting through it but the way he’s watching me, nearly transfixed, makes me feel as if we are the only two people left on the planet. Two people who want each other with a tangible passion.

  My confidence is building as I continue on, swinging my hips to and fro. My long hair swishes across my lower back as I croon on about needing to be taught a lesson by a man like him. The submissive suggestion is sinfully blatant.

  Even at this distance I can make out the thick ridge of his impressive cock straining against the front of his jeans. Or maybe my imagination is in overdrive …. My heart rate thunders as Fiona’s luscious lyrics pour out of my mouth, sung only for him, my sexy New Zealand mystery man.

  As the song comes to an end, all too soon, I vaguely hear the dj call out, “Well, hot damn! If that wasn’t a call-out for each and every one of you to get down and dirty with your significant others tonight, then I don’t know what is. Wow! Valla from South Carolina, what an amazing performance! Thank you, doll!”

  I hand him back the mic with a sly smile and return to our table. I avoid eye contact with him as I pass by the now heaving bar. I was happy to strut my stuff up on stage, but that confidence is wavering now with the thought of actually meeting this man.

  “There you go, Valla! I knew you had it in you, you sly, little lady.” Lana claps excitedly and whispers, “That fierce Kiwi at the bar over there nearly came in those sexy jeans of his just watching you.”

  I can’t help but feel pleased. Truth be told, I was beyond aroused performing for him. I’d like nothing better than to sneak away with him at this very moment. Anywhere dark and private would do just fine. Even an enclosed, shadowy truck would do the trick.

  The rest of the group congratulates me. Feeling a bit breathless, I say, “Thanks everyone. I’ll be back in just a sec. Off to the ladies’ room!”

  I pass by the bar and am a tad disappointed that he’s nowhere to be seen. His brawny friend is leaning down, chatting with a pretty waitress. Heading through the dimly lit hall, I spot a large figure looming in the shadows by the lone bathroom door. I move closer and make out that it’s him just before he moves. I instinctively step aside, thinking that he might want to pass by. The hallway is only about four feet across. After two quick strides toward me, one long arm reaches right up over my left shoulder and his towering body moves in close, caging me between his powerful frame and the smooth wall.

  He studies my face with the detached curiosity of a scientist. A thick moment passes and just as I suck in a shaky breath, he cocks his stunning head and asks me in a husky rumble, “Do you need guidance for being a bad girl, then?”

  Oh, hell. That rolling, fabulous accent has me wet inside of a split second. Go for it, damn it. Tell him!

  My voice is nearly stuck in my throat but I somehow manage to answer him clearly, even showing a bit of sass. “Yes. Yes I do. Are you the man who’ll be able to give it to me?” My head tilts in question, a blatant look of challenge in my eyes.

  Did that really just come out of my mouth?

  A confident, devilish smile slowly crosses his well-formed lips. “Absolutely.”

  Excitement rushes through my system in a pulsing blast of heat. The only thought bouncing around in my brain is how and when I can be naked and horizontal with this man, who looks just like a warrior from ancient times.

  Those eyes are roaming all over my features as if he’s never encountered a female before, as if I’m something incredibly rare. His stare is hungry as everything around us begins to drop away. Slowly, ever so slowly, he moves in closer, head tilted opposite mine. His seductive scent crashes through me, reminding me of myrrh blended with bergamot. My eyes slide closed. This is it. I’m about to have the hottest damn kiss of my entire life ….

  Suddenly a high, fluty voice rings loudly down the corridor, “Valla! There you are. Oh. Oh shit!”

  I reluctantly lean down to peek under his wide bicep, already positive that it’s Lana. She looks mortified.

  “I— I’m sorry Valla.” She trips over her words. “Mick and Guy sent me to round you up. The tab has been settled and we are heading back to camp. Should I stall them?”

  I lift my head to meet the vivid eyes of Mr. Mysterious. Shyly I say to him, “Suppose it just wasn’t meant to be. Goodnight.”

  Before he can reply, I duck under his bent arm and move swiftly down the hallway. Our chance encounters were just that, chance. A sadness weighs on me from the certainty that I will never see him again.

  Chapter Three

  ***

  Bonfire

  We have just returned from town and are eager to enjoy the coziness of the bonfire. All eight of us surround the blaze, holding out marshmallow-topped sticks while laughing as they burst into flames. Most of us are still tipsy from the copious amounts of beer we put away back at Dingo’s.

  Chaz from Dallas asks, “So, you guys mentioned earlier to look out for certain spiders and sharks. Are there any additional dangers that could be lurking around here?”

  I laugh as he glances nervously over each shoulder toward the black shadows of the seaside forest.

  Mick answers, doing his best to sound serious. “Well, mate, tomorrow we are headed to the base of Mt. Hutt, which is located in the Southern Alps. Mountain lions are known to live in the forests there, although they generally stay away from people. Well, that is, unless they’re starving.”

  His countenance has shifted and he’s not smiling anymore. I realize that he’s not joking.

  Chaz is wide-eyed and close to petrified. Maybe Phil was the one who was interested in trekking through the wilds of New Zealand? Chaz is totally South Beach, with his pastel Lacoste shirts and coordinating sweaters. Oh yeah, South Beach wearing Gucci shades and flops while sipping on a fresh Mojito all the way. I can totally see it. Poor Chaz … he is not cut out for this outdoor adventure. He should be booked into a fine suite at The Delano in Miami.

  Mick does his best to reassure him. “Hey, we both have rifles in the truck. So no worries, eh, mate?”

  “Yeah, I mean, sure,” Chaz replies uneasily.

  Lana and I turn simultaneously to each other as I tell her in all seriousness, “No wandering off into the woods alone. We’ll go in pairs or not at all.”

  “Totally,” she agrees.

  Slowly everyone but Lana, Guy, and myself begin to head to their tents for the evening. The excitement of Dingo’s has left us all relaxed and pleasantly sated.

  Mick calls out, “Night, everyone. Sleep well. I know that I’m well knackered with all the grog and singing!”

  I am enjoying the cozy blaze of the fire when I notice Lana’s glazed and primed stare directed with blatant passion right into Guy’s eyes.

  Maybe I should pack it in tonight and head for the tent.

  Guy turns to me a second later. “Hey, Valla, I’m gonna take little Lana here for a bit of a walk down the beach. Are you good here on your own by the fire?”

  “Oh, sure,” I say. “You kids have a blast. I’m enjoying just chilling out here and checking out the stars.”

  “See ya, Valla.” Lana tosses her stunning red locks over her shoulder and gives me a look that screams, ‘Oh hell yeah! ’Bout to get lucky w
ith a fierce Kiwi.’

  I don’t blame her. What girl wouldn’t want to get off on a starry night with a hot New Zealand stud?

  I pull the warm blanket around my shoulders. The temperature really has dropped. Thank goodness for the fire throwing off this wonderful, soothing heat. I scoot off the thick log to sit directly on the grass and rest my back against it. I lean my head back and look up. The stars are out in full force. It’s so unbelievably peaceful, with only the sound of crashing waves cutting through the frigid night air.

  The heat from the fire is making me feel so very sleepy and content. The alcohol is still in my system and I’m having trouble keeping my eyes open.

  I begin to doze off to sleep, thinking, What a perfect vacation.

  ***

  A close, cracking branch has me jerking upright in an instant. My first thought is that I should get up and offer Guy and Lana our tent for the evening. I could easily fall right back asleep out here. I would certainly be safe beside all the tents surrounding the fire.

  But before I can push myself up off the ground, a large hand covers my mouth as someone with tremendous power begins to pull me backward into the dense forest. Is this some kind of joke? What the hell! After the initial shock, I jerk and struggle wildly because my oxygen has been completely cut off. No, this is not right. What the fuck is going on? Adrenaline floods my system and I immediately begin kicking and clawing at the huge forearms holding me as if in a steel vice. When that strategy gets me nowhere, I drag my booted heels down into the dirt and grass, trying anything to slow my abductor. I have to scream!

  Still writhing like a fiend, I do my best to pry my lips apart and bite at his palm pressed firmly across my mouth. I succeed and sink my teeth down into his flesh. I’m half expecting the metallic tang of blood but he pulls away before I can do any real harm. That brief moment is all I need as I call out in frantic desperation, but we are already a good distance from the camp. Could anyone even hear me? I continue to fight like a cornered fox while shouting out in choppy, horror-laced cries. He drags me even faster until we are engulfed by trees.

  I let go and scream for all I’m worth but his hand slams down once again, cutting my cry off along with a significant amount of my hope. My mouth is still open and I try for another bite, but instead he shoves some kind of pills straight into my mouth. I redouble my efforts, kicking out wildly at anything I can connect with. His other massive arm is banded around my midsection. He’s so impossibly strong! I’m lifted high in the air and the fight continues. I scissor my legs up and out, hoping that he might be thrown off kilter and I can scramble away. No such luck.

  I’m not throwing in the towel yet, asshole! There is no way I’m swallowing whatever the hell you put on my tongue! The tablets are bitter and there are several of them. I gag twice as they begin to dissolve against my damp tongue. Tears escape my eyes as I jerk back and forth. He is holding me still here in the darkness, obviously waiting until the drugs take effect. I’m sucking in frantic pulls of air through my nostrils. Think, Valla! Do something!

  No … oh fuck, no! This can’t possibly be real.

  I pry my lips apart again, determined to spit the drugs out. If I swallow, then I’m a goner. His hand is melded so tightly against my lips that there is just no way. I inhale deeply through my nose and in the process swallow. The unbearably bitter, wet mixture slides down my throat and there is nothing I can do to stop it. I gag and try to make myself throw up, but his massive muscles remain taut and immobile.

  Shit, shit!

  Whatever he gave me begins to take effect. I’m not sure how much time has passed, perhaps a few minutes. It’s so hard to tell in the darkness of night, but I feel like I’m trying to swim underwater as everything begins to slow down and turn foggy. I can see the glow from the bonfire, if I could only make it ….

  I must scream again so the others will know I’ve been taken. That’s my only hope!

  The hand moves away from my lips and immediately I struggle to eke out another cry for help. Nothing but a muffled plea forms on my sluggish lips. He spins me around by my shoulders and any hope I had of seeing who has me quickly dies. There is only a sliver of moonlight out tonight, not nearly enough to illuminate the nearly black woods. He’s only a contrasting wall of gray against the black night.

  I try with all my might to focus, but as I look up, searching for his face, all I can see in the shroud of darkness is an immense, hooded shadow. Fear mingles with the drugs as, without a word, I’m pulled up and over his thick shoulder. That’s all I remember.

  ***

  I’ve no clue how much time has passed, but the rise and fall of furious male voices, coupled with streams of light that seem to be coming from flashlights have me struggling to come around. The words seem far away, as if emerging from the other end of a long tunnel, but I try hard to concentrate.

  “No fucking way, mate. Don’t piss around with me, Tane. Bloody hell, what in the fuck are you doing here with her?”

  The foreign voice sounds raw and angry.

  “Aw, come on, Judge. You’ll both suss it out when she wakes up. I know it’s not the best situation but she’ll be right soon enough, mate. You know you’re hot for the fine Yank. Both of you were randy as fuck, staring at each other back at Dingo’s. ’Bout booked you in at a hotel, for fuck’s sake! Just go on and take her up to your place and you’ll both have a laugh about it later, guaranteed.”

  “Fucking hell, Tane! You’re mad as meat axe, mate.”

  What’s going on? I know I’ve heard that voice before and the reference to the bar …. It’s that guy and his friend. It must be!

  Through the narrow slits of my eyelids, I see wavering hands coming at me through the streams of light and I try to shrink back but my limbs are uncoordinated and useless. I’m still heavily drugged and trying hard to hold onto consciousness. I feel myself slide forward and vaguely note that I’m wrapped in something. Blankets? My head feels like it’s full of concrete.

  “Shit, man, what the fuck’s wrong with her? Why is she way crook? Did you give her something?”

  “No worries, just a handful of Ambien. She’ll be straight as an arrow in a few hours, all right? Here, let me help you move her over to your ride. She’s light as a feather but can get a bit feisty.”

  The cold air hits my face as I’m lifted high up into strong arms. More than anything I want to focus, but my vision is a muddled mess consisting of only light and dark murky figures. The dizziness has me feeling like I’m on a carnival tilt-o-whirl. The smell of leather engulfs me as my right side rests against something soft and pliant. The male voices begin to sound more distant and, against my best intentions, sleep sucks me under once again.

  Chapter Four

  ***

  Demanding Captive

  My eyes are locked with those of my captor. He’s seated casually in an enormous, faded brown leather club chair and he’s every bit as massive and intense as I recall from Dingo’s. I swallow convulsively from the swell of fear that is steadily mounting. Those familiar dark blue eyes, shimmering like sapphires, watch me intently. Pretty, yet ice hard. His external coolness sends a wave of dread right through me.

  There’s a fire burning low in the rock fireplace behind his chair. The shadowed light swirling around him makes him appear otherworldly. He moves to lean forward, resting his forearms on his thighs while threading his fingers together in a gesture of restlessness.

  I want to scream at him for kidnapping me and bringing me to wherever the hell I am now, but my sense of self-preservation tells me it would be foolish to anger him right off the bat. He could be highly unstable. How the fuck did I overlook this cagey, dangerous aspect of his demeanor? I was so focused on the lust flowing between us that I obviously missed a red flag or two.

  The silence is stifling and I wonder if he’s waiting for me to speak. Is he going to untie my arm? The knot that tethers me to the bedpost is the most complex I’ve ever seen. For the tiniest moment I wonder if I’m in a k
araoke and lager induced nightmare.

  No way, that’s impossible, because this is all too vivid and intense to be merely a horrible dream.

  We continue to stare at each other for another minute before I can’t hold back any longer and blurt out, “Where am I?” The words feel thick and strange coming off my dry tongue, but my need to know outweighs the discomfort.

  He breathes deeply through his nose and says slowly, “Mount Tasman.”

  His voice jolts through me like a live wire; it’s that rich and deep. Dingo’s was too loud to really hear it clearly. He’s most definitely a New Zealand native with that familiar lilting accent. Stop it, Valla. Are you that turned on by your captor’s voice? Undoubtedly … yes.

  Shit, this is messed up! There has to be some sort of clear explanation for all this. Perhaps it’s a bet or game of sorts, between him and the massive Maori who most likely captured me. I’m still profoundly attracted to him, despite the fact that I’m tied to his bed and have no idea what I’m doing here. Somehow I’m more intrigued than frightened.

  Oddly, he doesn’t even seem pleased that I’m here. In fact, he looks annoyed—if the frown, tense shoulders, and furrowed brow are any indication. Something is really off.

  Wait, Mount Tasman? I have a small recollection of that mountain from my map of the country. He must be mistaken. Mount Tasman is on the opposite coast from where I was camping. Maybe he’s lying to me?

  Trying my best not to panic—I just don’t know how he would react to me flipping out on him—I go with a factual approach. “Isn’t Mount Tasman in the South Island Alps?”

  “It is.”

  Again with the annoyingly succinct answers.

  At this point I’m dying to ask him and decide to go for it. Anger threads my voice as I ask, “Why in the hell did you kidnap me?”