Abducted by the Mountain Man

by Ambrielle Kirk

  I couldn’t end up in the criminal database, and most importantly, I couldn’t go back to that life. No, scratch that. I wouldn’t let my haunted past come back to sting me. I was determined to remain under the radar of blissful isolation for as long as I possibly could.

  Suddenly, I remembered the belt bag that Alexis had claimed to have lost and the one that I had found on the park bench. If I could go through her things and find an ID to positively match her to a name, I could make some progress.

  I jogged to my back door where I had hidden the bag under a pile of towels. I grabbed her wallet and looked inside. Sure enough, the picture of Alexis Mancini was there front and center in my vision. The name she’d given me was accurate, but it didn’t mean that it was really her. People used an array of countless names all the time. This could be any number of false identities she was using.

  I grabbed my laptop off my kitchen table, but not before shooting a glance back at Alexis. She was still lying on the fluffy blanket by the fireplace, but she was turned away from it. Her eyes were closed. This was my perfect opportunity to do some research on her.

  I had abundant resources at my disposal in order to do background checks. This was one of the few lingering side effects I still loved about my prior job. I knew how to dig up even the most gruesome dirt on people, and nothing surprised me anymore.

  I typed in her name. My heart pounded in my chest, and my heartbeat swooshed through my ears. My palms were sweaty. I had to wipe them on my jeans. My fingers were shaking so profusely that I had to take a second to try to compose myself. I didn't know what I would find, but I was anxious about the results.

  I knew it might take several hours for the background check to come back to me, so as soon as I hit the send button, I went to the kitchen and poured her a glass of water. I walked back out to Alexis who was none the wiser. I wouldn't let her know I was checking in on her story, at least for now. The truth would reveal itself in time. For now, I wanted to go back and stare at her beautiful body once again. It would be the perfect distraction for me while I waited on the past to morph itself into the present. Everybody had skeletons in their closets. Just how hazardous were the ones that belonged to Alexis Mancini?

  Chapter Seven

  Alexis

  The sexy Russian remained quiet in the other room that appeared to be the kitchen. I wanted to call out and ask him if he was ever going to come back, but it appeared that sarcasm was lost on him.

  On the other hand, I wanted to keep staring at him because I found him incredibly sexy, albeit slightly terrifying. I had a concoction of mixed emotions about him brewing inside of me which was confusing.

  I lifted myself up to a seating position and cleared my throat. It was the best way to establish communication with him without having to actually speak to him. My plan must have worked because a few seconds later, he walked out from the kitchen.

  His eyes narrowed in on me as he approached me with weary and guarded steps. The only sound in the room was the thump of his hiking boots against the creaky wooden floors.

  "Is everything alright?" he crooned in that sexy, adorable voice of his and then thrust a glass of water at me.

  Reluctantly, I accepted the glass and then glanced up at him with sad, puppy dog eyes. I needed to get on this guy’s good side, especially if I wanted to ever live to see another day on the outside of this warm, cozy living room.

  I set the glass on an end table and tried to rise. “Can you help me up?”

  I winced as pain re-entered my left ankle. The stranger acted immediately, helping me to my feet.

  “You should be sitting,” he said.

  “I’m fine. I’ve had about a dozen sprained ankles in my life. It’s nothing,” I lied. It hurt like hell, but I knew the pain would eventually fade as the swelling decreased. On the other hand, maybe it was best to act like a meek kitten, so he’d take pity on me. I thought that it was best if I let him think that he had the upper hand. That way, he wouldn’t be overly angry and defensive as he tried to prove his dominance.

  “Ow.” I reached down and rubbed my ankle. “It’s worse than I thought.”

  I was only partially pretending. I was, after all, locked in his cottage with no visible way to escape.

  “I don’t even think I know your name yet,” I said, meekly.

  He stood above me, towering like a suspicious statue made of flesh, bone, and pure muscle. His features were poker-like and unwavering.

  “What do you need my name for?” he replied.

  My heart raced. At the time, I had thought of it to be an innocent enough question to pose to him, but then I could have kicked myself for forgetting the one essential element. It was apparent that this guy was skeptical of everything. He thought the world was out to get him and I was the mole in the ground trying to sniff him out.

  Obviously, up until a few hours ago, I didn't even know that he existed, but in his mind, I was a threat. I paused for a brief second before answering because I needed to sound as convincing as possible. "I just…don't know what to call you," I said with an air of nonchalance.

  He grumbled, but I could tell by his softening features that he might cave on this one. “Erik.”

  The word was barely audible, but since it was already so quiet in the room, I could just make it out. “I’m sorry, did you say Erik?”

  “Yes. Now that’s enough questions from you. I am the one who does the question asking…got it?” His accent thickened in the heat of his frustration. He was certainly passionate about keeping the power struggle to a minimum.

  “Got it,” I whispered and settled down into a big comfortable leather chair and curled my feet up under me. The chair smelled just like him—an attractive masculine scent that hugged me just like the blanket wrapped around me.

  He studied me for a few moments, and then his facial features became lighter. “Are you hungry?”

  The way he stared at me stirred up a handful of emotions for me. On the one hand, I felt like he was inspecting me. It was slightly invasive and uncomfortable, but on the other hand, there was something erotic in the way his eyes had a lustful glaze about them.

  “I could eat something,” I said as my stomach grumbled. I hadn’t even realized I needed food until he mentioned it.

  “I have venison and rice.”

  It wasn't exactly a cheeseburger and fries, but I knew I had to put on my most charming demeanor if I wanted to get on his good side. If I were nice to him and showered him with compliments, maybe he'd let me go without another prying question. At the same time, I knew I couldn't just collect my clothes and leave. The on-again, off-again rainstorm still hadn't let up yet. And I could have sworn I heard trees thrashing against the cottage as the wind whistled by.

  I tucked the blanket under my arms and wrapped myself up. Erik scooped me up like I weighed two pounds and carried me to a table where he sat me in a chair.

  His kitchen was cozy and galley-shaped. There was a quaint little window over the sink that had a remarkable view of the woods and mountains right outside in the wilderness surrounding us.

  He took the food out of his fridge and began to heat it in a microwave. So, he wasn’t entirely a caveman. He still used electricity and modern appliances. I wanted to know everything about him, including why he was so suspicious of me but I knew that I couldn’t press him for answers. He was already so skittish as it was, and I didn’t want to add more fuel to the fire burning inside of him.

  He put the food on a plate for me, separating some for himself as well. He placed the plate in front of me. I looked down at the food apprehensively.

  “Eat if you’re hungry,” he commanded in a gruff voice.

  He sat down across from me, and I noticed that his eyes never left my body. I knew I looked a hot and wild mess. I still felt grains of sand between my thighs, and there was mud caked between my fingernails where I had clawed at the soggy earth, fighting for my life.

  He didn’t seem concerned about the dirt. His gaze skirt
ed across the exposed part of my breasts. I instinctively pushed the blanket up around me a little closer as he chewed his food in silence, staring a hole through me.

  “Don’t do that again,” he instructed.

  “What?” I stared up at him as I picked at the food.

  “You don’t need to hide your body. You’re beautiful.”

  I wasn't sure if I should be charmed or appalled. But what was I hiding, really? This man had already seen me naked.

  “Thanks,” I whispered.

  I hadn't eaten with a guy in a long time, let alone an unbelievably hot mountain man like Erik. The air was thick between us with sexual tension, and the only sound in the room came from our forks and knives scratching against the plate. The venison was surprisingly good, and soon, nothing was left on my plate.

  When we were done eating, he picked me up again without a word.

  “Where are we going?” I asked with slight trepidation. I feared that he could sense the anxiety in my squeaky voice.

  “I didn’t get all the mud off of you earlier. We’re going to clean you up a bit. A hot bath will do the trick.”

  When we got to his bathroom, I was surprised at how modernized it was. There were relatively new fixtures, unlike the kitchen that still appeared to be somewhat dated. He drew a bath for me in a clawfoot tub, stood there, and looked at me. I stared at him, hesitant.

  “Drop the blanket and get in.” He nodded towards the tub but didn’t leave the room.

  “With you in the room?” I asked.

  “I’ve seen women before. I know what you’ve got.”

  Reluctantly, I let the blanket drop to the floor, and it fell like silk off my body. I swallowed hard and my pulse raced.

  He leaned in and unwrapped the cloth bandage from my ankle and then helped me into the bath. I slowly sank inside, trying to allow myself to relax somewhat. The water was nice and warm and felt wonderful to my sore muscles.

  “Thank you for helping me…and saving me. I’m not sure how I would’ve survived if you weren’t there,” I told him.

  “Sure,” he grumbled and looked away. I was certain I saw his cheeks grow a shade darker.

  Realizing that he wasn’t going to leave, I grabbed the sponge, squeezed some soap on it, and began washing my body. He watched me under dark, hooded eyelashes.

  When I caught his gaze, he cleared his throat and turned. “I’ll wait outside…by the door.”

  "No," I said, meekly. I didn't want him to leave. I wasn't uncomfortable anymore. I was something else altogether.

  He turned back around swiftly. He seemed to be surprised by my quiet protest.

  “Can you help me with my back?” I handed the sponge to him.

  He swallowed hard and knelt down on the floor beside the tub. He started with my back, but he didn’t stop there. He gently washed out the cuts and scrapes on my arms and legs. I wasn’t sure why I was allowing him to touch me, but it gave me a tingling sensation that I craved. The moment between us was intensely erotic. He was like the rugged mountain man who had rescued me from death was now bringing me back to life.

  I didn’t want to think about the fact that I was still a captive inside of his home. Maybe he would come around and let me go. I needed to be nurtured and cared for, and he was doing an exceptional job. I didn’t even know he had that tenderness inside of him but here he was, being gentle. His fingers worked magic on my tense muscles.

  "Your body is wonderful," he whispered, his eyes filling with desire. "I would love to run my hands up and down your curves every day, all day."

  I recoiled slightly, but only because he was verbalizing the fantasies that I was currently having inside of my own head. I didn't want him to know I was turned on by him and the fact that he was bathing me. I slipped down lower in the water to hide my pebble-hard nipples.

  Deep down in my gut, I knew he felt the chemistry and connection between us. Suddenly, I wasn’t as scared that he would hurt me anymore, but I wasn’t exactly ready to plunge over the edge and let him take advantage of me either.

  “I think I’m ready to get out of the bath now,” I stated in a dodgy voice. I knew he would probably be disappointed, but I needed to take this weird relationship one moment at a time.

  Chapter Eight

  Erik

  I was still trying to be cautious with Alexis. Sometimes even the most beautiful women were just black widows, looking to lure you in for the hunt and then waiting for the perfect moment to strike with the kill.

  After bathing her, I finally relented and gave her the clothes back that she had worn when I had initially found her under the trench.

  “Here.” I handed her the freshly washed clothes. “You can put these back on.”

  “Thanks,” she said and blushed as she shot her eyes downcast. “Do you think the weather will be better tomorrow so I can head back?”

  “It’s mid-Spring here in Arrow Lake. The weather is unpredictable especially since we’re so high up in the mountains,” I exclaimed.

  “Oh.” A hint of sadness mingled in her voice.

  “Are you ready to go to sleep?” I asked her curiously after she yawned.

  “Kind of…” she answered sheepishly and trailed off.

  “You can sleep on the couch,” I instructed her.

  I still wanted to keep an eye on her. I would make myself a little makeshift bed on the floor beside her. That way, if she tried anything funny in the middle of the night, I'd be able to pounce on her. I was the lightest sleeper in the world, and if she made any sudden movements, I'd be ready.

  I went to the one guest bedroom I had in the house and retrieved a fresh blanket for her as well as a pillow.

  "Here." I placed the items down on the couch.

  “Okay,” she said tiredly as she collapsed onto the couch with a sigh of relief.

  I watched her as she drifted off into the oblivion of dreamland. I waited until the rhythm of her breathing was consistent and peaceful. Once I was fairly certain that she was asleep, I went back into my kitchen to see if the results had come in yet on her background check.

  I was anxious and nervous, feeling the pounding effects of my heart drumming in my chest. I inhaled a substantially sizable deep breath and stared at the screen. The results were in. The truth was there on the screen. I printed out the documents, so I could study them properly, feeling nauseated as I waited to find out Alexis’s true identity.

  Once every page had finally popped out of the printer drawer, I pulled out the pages that were still warm. I inspected them as if my life depended on it. Alexis Mancini had been somewhat of a drifter. She had moved from place to place, bouncing from city to city for what appeared to be the last six years or so.

  Her parents, Renatta Gray and Alonzo Mancini, had presumably been gunned down by Italian mobsters leaving Alexis a seventeen-year-old orphan. Their murder cases had been marked as solved and closed a long time ago. I found the connection to her and the mob oddly unsettling and didn’t realize how we both seemed to be on the run. Was it fate that had brought us together in some strange and ominous way? It was still too early to tell, but I had a prickly sensation come over me the deeper I scrutinized her past.

  My concerns also began to rise like a tide that was coming in and surrounding me. My suspicion was already growing considerably but this new information just made my misgivings even more accurate.

  I must have been completely lost in thought because when I looked up again, Alexis's shadow was bearing over me.

  I jumped a few inches in the air. “Fuck!” I dropped the papers everywhere, and they fluttered like snow to the ground.

  "I'm sorry…I didn't mean to startle you." Alexis looked embarrassed but came into the room anyway.

  I flustered and fumbled to pick up the papers as quickly as possible before Alexis could read their contents.

  “It’s no big deal,” I mumbled, still trying to recover from what I was sure might just have been a mini heart attack. “I’m not always this jumpy.”
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  “What is going on with you? Anything you want to talk about?” She had a ‘mother hen’ expression on her face as if she were genuinely concerned for my wellbeing.

  I stared at her for a few moments. She was remarkably beautiful. Her wavy brown hair glowed a different shade with amber tints to it under the soft lights.

  “I’m fine,” I said and shook my head with denial. “Really.”

  “What were you looking at?” She asked with more curiosity than suspicion. Her eyes dropped to the papers.

  “Just…work,” I blurted out and stuffed the documents into a folder and back into a drawer.

  “Oh…” she said and shifted her weight as she looked at her toes. “Where do you work?”

  “I’m retired.”

  “What did you do for a living?” She was relentless.

  "Sanitation," I stated flatly. Usually, people left me alone when I told them that.

  Her brows furrowed. “Sanitation? As in trash man?”

  “Yes. I take out the trash.” Then, in an attempt to change the subject, I asked, “What are you doing awake?”

  “I couldn’t sleep,” Alexis stated apologetically. She looked uncomfortable with the way I was eyeing her.

  “I’m sorry,” I told her. “I don’t mean to stare at you like some creep. I um…I’m just not used to company. I guess I really don’t know how to handle myself around them.” I was babbling. Too much.

  “It’s okay,” she chuckled sheepishly.

  “It’s just…you’re so gorgeous.” I couldn’t help it. She was growing on me, and I felt like her attractive looks were the root of my weakness.

  "Thanks," she blushed with a smile. "You're cute too. Do you live here alone?"

  “Yes.”

  “I bet your girlfriend is probably wondering where you are tonight,” she stated.

  I grinned, chuckling. I couldn’t help but to be amused by the round-about way of asking if I was single or not. “I don’t have a girlfriend. I haven’t been with a woman in a very long time.”