Not that she’d heard of it happening, specifically, but if her dad could stay out of jail with all his activities, the Franciscos should be the same. Almost anything was possible. Her only hope was a quiet getaway in the dead of night with nobody noticing until she was long gone. And she hoped Corbin had an idea of how to make that happen because she had none.
In the distance, a pair of headlights split the darkness. Surely Corbin wouldn’t approach this way. He’d be dead the second he stepped out of the car. It must be David, come to claim his bride. Her stomach churned. It was awfully late for a wedding, she thought, although there was no clock in the room. Not even a TV to check for the time. But it had to be too late for a wedding.
Didn’t it?
She knelt on the chair to see below better, face pressed to the glass.
The car, some sort of small SUV, rolled up the drive, and when it stopped in front of the house, a man came out to meet it. A pair of men climbed out, and the passenger, a dark-haired fellow, hugged Mr. Francisco. She wished she could see better, hear something, but they were too far away to make out words other than by tone. David—at least she thought it was David—seemed to be introducing his father to the other man, and they spoke for a few minutes before walking inside the house together.
Rushing to the bedroom door, she twisted the handle, but, as always, it was locked. Locked automatically every time it closed, in fact. Cicely wrung her hands. If David had arrived, she didn’t have long to wait. After all, why would they delay past tomorrow? By this time tomorrow night, she’d be wed against her will to David Francisco.
Unless Corbin could get her out. What would he do? The man she’d been speaking to all this time was nothing if not resourceful. He’d told her stories about fire situations that would have turned her hair gray if she’d had to face them. A lot of his work was trail riding, watching for problems, but when the crew he was part of went after a fire, often one he’d spotted, he was right there in the thick of things, wielding a hose or a shovel, helping to retain the beauty of the mountains above Cedar Valley. Mountains she longed to see for herself.
If only she’d been honest with him from the beginning, explained her situation, given him the chance to accept her as she was or not. After all, she’d never committed a crime, had kept herself out of the family business completely. But would he have been able to consider a future with a woman whose family had no such scruples? She hated to even think of the things her father did for a living. Corbin came from such great stock. Firefighters and farmers, his mom was a therapist, his cousins billionaire businessmen who earned their money honestly. What would he think about a family who made their money on the suffering of others? If the money in her trust hadn’t come from her grandmother, who had inherited it herself from her doctor father, she’d have refused to take it. As it was, she used it sparingly for her tuition and college expenses, saving the rest for the day she could become a history teacher and would want to buy a little house.
The men disappeared into the house, and she sank down in the big armchair by the window of her room…her cell, really, no matter how luxurious. What would she do if Corbin did not make it in time to save her? She couldn’t just go along with it, marry someone she did not love and submit to him nightly until he managed to impregnate her and close the door on her real life outside the underworld. David Francisco had been the kind of boy who’d tear the wings off flies just to be cruel. Now he was a full-scale criminal, active in his father’s businesses, most of which relied upon the misery of others for their profits.
If Corbin didn’t get here tonight, she’d have to take drastic measures.
Maybe the bathroom would offer a way out. Standing, Cicely headed in there to look at the possibilities. She’d never thought of herself as someone who could end things for herself or anyone else, but neither did she intend to be treated as chattel. Someone would not survive a wedding night raping of her, although she wasn’t sure if it would be her or her groom who emerged alive. In a way, it didn’t even matter to her.
As she rummaged through the cabinets for something she could use to defend herself, a rap came on the door. Perhaps it was her groom making a pre-nuptial visit? Or Hamilton with warm milk, maybe with drugs in it, to help her sleep. She suspected she’d been medicated a few times since her arrival. She’d never slept so deeply before, and it surely wasn’t from mental ease.
She could avoid answering, but whoever it was would enter anyway. “Come in,” she called.
Chapter Five
He couldn’t have planned this if he’d tried—at least before he’d picked up David Francisco. Imagine, instead of having to break into the house where his Cicely was being held, being invited to stay over. David’s father was very grateful that he’d rescued his son. Turned out the younger man’s phone had died right after calling the garage, so when they hadn’t shown up, he’d had no way to reach anyone else. He didn’t even know why it worked for the one call after getting all wet in the car.
So after greeting his son, Mr. Francisco had him shown to a guest room by the butler and provided with a change of clothes and toiletries. They didn’t ask why he traveled without these things, probably assuming he hadn’t planned to be on the road overnight. Since he’d never had to rescue a princess from a tower before, he hadn’t really had a wardrobe in mind. Scale the outside of the building, maybe? But, now, all that went out the window. One he did not have to climb up to. He could wait for the household to settle down, locate her room, let her out, and leave with her. Easy! Except this mansion had a lot of rooms, and he had no idea which one they’d stashed her in.
Maybe calling the sheriff would have been the right thing to do.
Except she’d been so sure they’d kill her if he did. And what if they had the police in their pocket?
Why not accept their hospitality and relax. Set the alarm on his phone for a couple of hours out when everyone would have settled down for the night. He’d had an insanely long day already, and, if he didn’t take a nap, he wasn’t sure how great he’d do in the rescue department. But, as he kicked his shoes off and lay down on the king-sized bed and closed his eyes, he took comfort in the fact he finally had a plan—a couple of plans—and had made a couple of phone calls for backup.
It seemed like only moments had passed when the alarm buzzed by his ear and he sat up, unsure for a moment where he was. He looked around the dimly lit room until it all came back to him. His fire training stood him well or he wouldn’t have been able to sleep at all. Firemen learned to sleep whenever and wherever they could because a call could come at any time. Even though he spent more time in the mountains than in the firehouse these days, the habit stayed with him. He woke quickly and could be ready to go in seconds. Handy, right at the moment.
In his bare feet, for added silence, and his ear to the door, he listened for sounds in the hallway. Hearing none, he opened the door and looked up and down the hall. The only lights he could see were in the small sconces spaced along the marble-floored passageway, so he took a step out, phone in his pocket and armed with the excuse, should he be questioned, that he was simply looking for the kitchen for a snack.
He’d noted the three stories as he drove up, and he’d been placed on the second floor, but he thought he’d head up to the top and see if he could tell which room the Cicely might be in. He’d heard the doors along his own hallway opening and closing and the voices of the Francisco men earlier. He was fairly sure their suites lay on the same floor as his and decided to head up one more and go over the third floor first. The images she’d sent him were from a height, so, unless they’d moved her, she was not on the first floor or in a basement. She had to be on the third.
But half of that floor consisted of a recreation room with a pool table and a movie theater. The rest was a half dozen empty bedrooms. He started for the stairs then stopped. The angle of her photos had definitely indicated a higher floor. Picturing the front of the house as he’d seen it when he drove up, something niggl
ed in his mind. Was there another floor up there? Under the peaked roof, yes, he was fairly sure he’d seen a small window. An attic, maybe?
It made sense. If you were going to kidnap someone, wouldn’t you want to stash them out of the way of say, guests? But the staircase ended at the recreation room. He walked up and down the hallway with his head back, looking for some kind of trapdoor but didn’t see one. Then he began to examine walls, starting with each bedroom, peeking in closets for hidden staircases and finally wound back into the pool table area again. It had to be there. The wide oak boards of the floor continued up one wall, and he felt around for any kind of doorway but came up empty. The front wall was all window. The back opened to the hallway. That left only the wall taken up by the movie screen to check out.
And then he saw it. Behind the screen. The stairs and, in the wall, the outline of a safe.
His bare feet shouldn’t be making too much noise but, before he headed up to the next level, he paused long enough to listen for any sounds from downstairs. Hearing nothing, he slipped behind the screen and padded up the narrow stairs. At the top, he encountered a closed door. He started to open it but heard rustling inside and, at the last moment, stopped and knocked.
A long pause, then he heard the sweetest sound in the world. “Come in.”
At the sound of her voice, his knees went weak.
Cicely stood as close to the door as she could without being in the way of it opening. When David came in, or any of the staff, she planned to rush them and push as hard as she could then, as they stumbled down—or fell, she didn’t care which—she’d run past and head for the first floor where there had to be exits. Once out the door, she’d run as hard and fast as she could away from the house and hope she could get to the highway. It looked only a mile or so away, and she felt confident she could run it—provided nobody raised the alarm before she had a good enough head start.
The knob turned, and the door crept toward her. She counted in her head. On three I rush him. One. Two… Three! As the door opened wide, she got a look at the man standing there and tried to stop her forward momentum, but her feet tangled and she slammed into a broad chest with a whomp.
“Cicely!” She’d know that voice anywhere. As arms like iron banded around her, she burst into tears. “Cicely, it’s me, Corbin.”
She tipped her head back to take in the man whose picture she’d looked at a hundred times a day in her phone before she’d had it taken from her by her kidnappers. It hadn’t done him justice. Dark hair, icy-blue eyes, and a square jaw, but so much better in person. And tall. Incredible shoulders. She’d never realized he’d be so tall. “I-I know,” she sniffled, dampening his shirt with her tears. “I can’t believe it’s you. I’m so glad to see you.”
He shuffled her backward into the room and shoved the door closed. “Gather your things. Let’s get out of here.”
“I don’t have any things. The kidnappers didn’t take me home to pack.” But that was the least of their problems. Bending her neck, she let her head rest on his chest. “And I want nothing more than to get going, but the door locks from the outside.”
His expression would have been comical had their situation been less dire. As it was, when he set her from him and twisted the knob, her sobs broke out anew. “I-I don’t usually cry like this.”
“I know,” he said. “And I usually do a better job of rescuing people. You know as a fireman.”
Their eyes met and locked. Cicely rose on her tiptoes to meet him as he bent and took possession of her lips. It was hot and sweet and everything she’d ever dreamed it would be. His lips moved over hers slowly, as if they had all night. Finally, she pressed her palms on his chest and stepped back. “As much as I’d like to do this all night, come morning, I’m supposed to be getting married,” she murmured.
Corbin stroked a lock of hair from her cheek. “And you have a bachelorette party planned?”
“Don’t be smart. If David or his dad or any of the goons finds you in here, I don’t know what they’ll do. To either of us.”
He waved a hand. “Oh David owes me one.”
She blinked. “David does? When did you go into crime?”
“He skidded off the road and into a ditch. I gave him a ride. That’s how I got in here.” Wrapping his arms around her, he drew her to sit on the edge of the bed. “I’m an invited guest. Kind of like you.”
“Not exactly,” she muttered, allowing him to bring her closer for another kiss. The man knew what he was about in the lip-lock department. He adjusted her in his arms and glided his lips along her throat.
Waves of pleasure washed over her, but practicality reared its ugly head and she summoned the strength to push him away. “We can’t just stay here and make out like teenagers unless you plan to see me married to David tomorrow. You don’t want that, do you?” She watched his face. “Please say no.”
“I’d kill him first.” He kissed her again then drew back. “Hang on.” Pulling his phone out of his pocket, Corbin texted a message then returned to the kissing. “You taste so sweet.”
“Mmm. You, too.” She let her hands roam over his chest, learning the contours of his body. Then, again, she pushed him away. “Look, I’d love nothing more than to make out with you all night, but we really have something to deal with.”
“I already did. We just have to wait a little while. He skated his lips over her collarbone and lifted the hem of her T-shirt, an ugly one she’d found in the closet. Everything she wore was ill-fitting, but she hadn’t given it a thought until now. In every fantasy about meeting her Internet guy, she’d been wearing a stunning outfit, her hair freshly styled, makeup perfect.
“I wanted to look so pretty for you.”
“Baby, I’m just happy you didn’t break up with me.”
“Why would I do that?”
“I got a text telling me to go away.” He kissed her again, caressing her breasts through her silky bra. That at least was hers. “I’m also glad you’re not married to Aron McCoy after all.” Lying her back over his arm, he sucked the fabric over her nipple into his mouth. “I’d love to strip you naked and do everything we ever talked about, but we don’t have time.”
She choked on a breath. “You know who I am?”
“I do.” He kissed her again until they had to stop to breathe. “And I’ll admit it was a little embarrassing to meet the real Libby McCoy.”
Her stomach twisted. “You went to the ranch?”
“Yes.” He ran his knuckle over her cheek. “I did.”
“I’m so sorry.” She’d never felt worse, not even when she’d been all alone and thinking she had to marry David. “You must have been so upset.”
“I was upset when I got the text your kidnappers sent, breaking up with me. It’s what got me on the plane and over here to look for you.” He kissed her eyelids. “And I was upset when I learned you’d pretended to be someone else because you were ashamed of your real name.”
The tears pricked her eyes, but he was relentless.
“And I was upset when I did learn who you were and couldn’t find you. Cicely, I don’t care who your father is. That’s between him and law enforcement. Not one of the McCoys implied you were anything but the sweet, kind, beautiful woman I came to love.”
“What?” How could he look her right in her lying eyes and tell her that. “I don’t understand.”
“That I love you?” Giving her a squeeze, he smiled at her. “I don’t think it’s complicated. Don’t you love me, too?”
“Of course!” she sobbed, tears streaming down her face. “I’ve loved you for so long, but I never thought I was worthy of you. My father—”
He clapped a hand over her mouth. “I don’t love your father. I don’t even know the man, but I do love you. We will have to figure out how to deal with your family, but I promise mine will be around far too much. I want you to come back to California with me tomorrow.”
“Corbin, it’s all too much. How are we going to even get out of h
ere?”
“Sshhh. Listen.”
In the distance, she could hear a siren, no, multiple sirens. Corbin led her over to the window. A half dozen firetrucks raced up the long driveway toward the house, lights flashing and sirens wailing. No sooner did they park than men leaped off all the pieces of equipment and began hooking up hoses and freeing ladders from the sides of the trucks.
The front door opened and several goons exited along with Francisco and David. Two men clad in yellow fire suits approached them, pointing and waving and holding their attention while the rest created a whirlwind of activity. Water sprayed everywhere.
With a thunk, something hit the side of the building, and, a minute later, a cheerful bearded face appeared in the window.
“Step back, baby,” Corbin said, ushering her to the other side of the bed as the man raised his axe and whacked the glass. It shattered then he hit it several more times until all the glass but a few small shards lay on the floor of the room. Corbin jerked a blanket off the foot of the bed and wrapped her in it. Scooping her up in his arms, he placed a kiss on her forehead then strode to the window and handed her off to the firefighter in the cherry picker outside. Then he climbed in himself and they were carried away from her prison and down to the ground where the men bustling around kept her captors busy until they were in his car and driving away.
As Corbin turned onto the main highway, a stream of sheriff’s cars and black SUVs passed him, headed toward the house. Cicely pressed her face to the window, in shock.
“What happened here?”
He sped down the road. “With every police officer within fifty miles occupied with taking down the crime boss, I think I can push the speed limit a little.” Flashing her a big grin, he rested a hand on her knee. “Besides, I can’t wait to get you back to the Menger. You’re going to love the room.”
Hell Yeah!: Saving Cicely (Kindle Worlds Novella) (MacKay Destiny Book 9) Page 4
