by Cassie Miles
“Swimming.”
Slowly, with exaggerated reluctance, she placed her small hand in his.
He escorted her to the gate which opened easily with the pass key. The snow had already melted along the paved pathway that led to the red sandstone bathhouse where they could strip down, rinse off and leave their clothes in a locker. Wisps of steam rolled across the blue waters of the pool beside them.
He changed fast and waited for her outside the ladies’ locker room. When she reappeared, barefooted, with a beach towel covering her blue bathing suit, he caught her hand and pulled her toward the shallow end. “The water’s warmer down here.”
“Only warm? You said it’d be hot,” she grumbled. “How can they heat this thing? It’s huge.”
“Four hundred feet long, about a hundred feet wide.”
Only a few people were in the pool. Through the clouds of steam and the vast expanse of water, the others were barely noticeable. He unwrapped her towel. The bruises on her forearms had already started to fade, but the sight of the injuries she’d suffered at Nate’s hands sent a spurt of anger through him.
“You first,” she said.
“Gladly.” He slipped into the warm, soothing waters and held out his arms for her.
First, she sat on the edge. When her slender feet touched the water, she looked surprised. “It’s warm.”
“Well, yeah.” Hadn’t he told her about a hundred times? “That’s why they call them hot springs.”
She slid into the pool, into his arms for a quick hug. This area was only about three feet deep, and she bobbed once before submerging. When she bounced up beside him, the tangles in her hair flattened smoothly against her skull. She rubbed at her eyes, erasing the last traces of makeup. “It doesn’t smell like chlorine.”
“They installed an advanced filtration system.” He didn’t know the details. “This water is pure.”
She pushed through the water with a breast stroke. Her slender legs trailed behind her in a pale reflection. He glided along beside her. The liquid warmth buoyed him, soothed him. He couldn’t for the life of him think of why they hadn’t come here before. Too busy to take a simple vacation? It seemed a poor excuse.
She disappeared under the water, and he ducked down to watch her undulate toward him. They locked lips and rose with rivulets streaming from them. He held her close, and her body molded against him. In the water, her familiar curves felt exotic and different. Her legs tangled with his.
Still kissing, he rolled to his back and pulled her with him through the water. She clung to him. Her breasts rubbed against his bare chest.
“Nice,” she whispered. “Feels good.”
“You feel good.”
Underwater, he cupped her butt and fitted her against his erection. He was ready to make love, here and now. Probably not a good idea in a public place. They were supposed to maintain a low profile.
From the other parts of the pool, they heard the shouts of people running. Then there was the quiet of the night.
She separated from him, glided into deeper water and turned. “It’s time for me to tell you a few things.”
Her voice was so soft, he could barely hear her. “I’m listening.”
“The first place Nate held me captive, that little room under Fiona Grant’s barn, wasn’t uncomfortable. There was a decent bed, and he left plenty of food and water. I was scared, but I felt strong and in control.”
When he eased toward her through the water, she moved away, keeping a distance between them.
She continued, “I’ve been wondering. Why would anybody build a little room under a barn?”
“Nate built it himself. Before Fiona moved up here full-time, she paid Nate’s ex-wife to stay at her house to keep an eye on things. She also hired Nate to do some handyman work, and he constructed that little nest so he could be close to his son.”
Nicole ducked down so only her head was showing. Her eyes were more blue than the water. “That’s sad.”
“Sick,” Dylan corrected her. “He was stalking his ex-wife. The poor woman had to take out restraining orders to keep him away from her and the boy.”
“Her name is Belinda, right?”
“And her son is Mickey. He’s the same age as Fiona’s daughter. Those two kids helped find that hidden room. When I saw it, I couldn’t believe you were there. We were searching every place, and you were so damn close.”
“While Nate held me there, he brought water so I could wash myself. And a change of clothes.”
“I know.”
“How?”
“The proof-of-life pictures and videos.” He’d stared at those tapes until his eyes were raw. At the time, he’d thought it might the last time he would ever see his wife. “The clothes he gave you once belonged to Belinda. That’s how we finally figured out Nate was the one who kidnapped you. Belinda saw the tapes and identified her old clothes.”
“I guess I owe her.”
“We all do.”
She paddled away from him. Though he knew it would be good for her to tell the whole story of her kidnapping, he wasn’t sure he wanted to hear what she said. At the moment, he had a grip on his hatred for Nate Miller. Dylan didn’t think about killing that bastard more than once or twice a day. He couldn’t afford to let his rage get the better of him.
He rose up from the water. “Let’s soak in the therapy pool. It’s even hotter than this one.”
When they emerged from the water and the cold air hit their skin, they shivered together. In a few quick strides, they crossed the pavement to the therapy pool, which was heated to over a hundred degrees and was about a hundred feet long.
Dylan eased into the water with Nicole beside him. No one else was in sight. He settled into a comfortable position and allowed the heat to soak into his body. She leaned her back against him with her head resting against his shoulder.
“Hold on to me,” she said. “This feels so good that I might fall asleep.”
“I won’t let you go.” He kissed the top of her head.
“I’m afraid…” Her voice trailed off on a sigh. “If I tell you everything, I’m afraid you’ll think less of me.”
“I love you, darlin’.” He tightened his grasp around her waist. “Nothing’s going to change that.”
“Even if I was a coward?”
“I should have been there to protect you.” If anyone had cause for shame, it was him.
Chapter Fifteen
Nicole nestled against Dylan’s chest, and the steamy water of the mineral-springs pool caressed them both. The heat seeped into her muscles, soothing her aches and pains. Her bruised body was healing far more easily than her mind.
She had to let these terrible memories go. The longer she kept them bottled inside, the more they festered. The only way to release the pressure was to cut it open, like lancing a boil. And she knew it was going to hurt.
What she didn’t know was how her husband would react. Would he hate her for being weak? With a sigh, she started speaking. “After I met you in the forest and told you…You remember what I told you.”
“You hated my guts, wanted a divorce, blah, blah, blah.” He gave her a little squeeze. “I never should have believed you.”
“It’s a good thing you did. If you’d made a wrong move, we both would have been shot.”
“Are you saying I did the right thing?”
His breath whispered in her ear, sending a sensual message that she longed to respond to. Making love would have been sweet and satisfying, but until she told him—told him everything—it would be deceitful to take him into her bed. “I’d like to say that you always do the right thing.”
“So would I,” he said. “Keep talking.”
“They threw me in the trunk of the car. Tied my wrists and ankles and slapped duct tape over my mouth.”
When she said it aloud, the torture didn’t seem so bad. But it was. “I tried to bite through the tape. My lips were chapped and the tape pulled against them. Tasted dis
gusting. The inside of my mouth was like glue, and I couldn’t breathe. My nose closed up. I struggled. Banged against the trunk. Kicked as hard as I could. It felt like I was suffocating. Couldn’t get air. I passed out.”
She gulped down a huge breath of air to remind herself that she was free. “I thought I was going to die.”
“Nicole, darlin’, I wish—”
“Don’t say anything.” She slipped away from him. “I need to get it all out. If I don’t, I’ll never sleep easy again. I’ll never recover.” And she had to get better. For the baby. She needed to be strong.
“I understand.”
His pale green eyes glowed. The light from the pool cast moist shadows below his high cheekbones and firm jaw. His shoulders were so wide, so strong. Even if they hadn’t been married, she would have been drawn toward him.
She sank lower into the heated water—as cozy as a womb. She was ready to be reborn. “After being in the trunk of the car, I longed for that little room under Fiona Grant’s barn where I was warm and had enough food. When he yanked me out and dragged me into his house in Riverton, Nate told me that he had the ransom, and there was no reason to keep me looking presentable. No reason to keep me alive.”
“Why did he?”
“It’s not me he hates, Dylan. It’s you.” She’d had plenty of time to think about this. “I was just his pawn. By not killing me, he kept his options open. He was trying to figure out how he could exact the most horrendous revenge against you.”
She’d been totally aware of her unimportance. If she’d caused too much trouble, Nate would have murdered her without a qualm. She was nothing to him. She had to obey.
“In Riverton, he kept me locked up in a closet. I had duct tape on my mouth. Padded handcuffs on my wrists which were fastened behind my back. More duct tape around my ankles.”
The memory took vivid shape in her mind. She recalled the intense discomfort. “My muscles ached. Under the duct tape, my skin chafed, itched something awful. When I cried, I couldn’t breathe. But that wasn’t the worst part.”
Shame caused her to look away from him. “It wasn’t the thirst when he refused to give me water. It wasn’t the hunger. It wasn’t the way he followed me to the bathroom and waited in the doorway for me to relieve myself.”
In the water, she curled into a fetal position. “All those things were humiliating. I was filthy, ripe with sweat. And I felt like…” Words failed her. Explaining her emotional state was difficult. “Desperate and hopeless at the same time. I wanted to live. And I wanted to die.”
“Never,” he said. “Never wish for death.”
His hand grazed her arm, but she slid away from him, gliding through the water. She couldn’t bear for him to touch her until she’d gotten through this.
“The way I felt,” she said, “reminded me of something that happened before we were married, back when I was working at Maud’s clinic in Delta. We got a report of a dog that was being abused. It’s not a vet’s responsibility to investigate animal cruelty, but Maud has a big heart. She was determined to rescue the animal.”
“And I bet you were, too.”
“I was,” she admitted. “We took the sheriff and went to a rundown house where an old man—his name was Wray—lived alone. A miserable old drunk. As soon as he saw us, he started yelling like a crazy person. The sheriff informed him that there had been complaints from neighbors about his dog.”
They found the animal—a brown-and-black beagle mix with sad, rheumy eyes—chained to a clothesline without water or food. One of his ears was torn. Open sores on the dog’s body had gone untreated and were infected.
“When I saw what Wray had done to his pet, I could have killed him. Anyone with an ounce of decency would have felt the same way. There must be a special place in Hell reserved for those who abuse a helpless creature. The sheriff told this jerk—this monster—that Maud and I would be treating the dog and sending him the bill.”
She couldn’t believe what had happened next. “As soon as we unfastened the chain, the dog staggered toward Wray. His tail wagging, he looked up at this man who had treated him so badly. I can’t say it was love, but the dog knew that his survival depended on his master.”
That described how she’d felt as a captive. “I looked to Nate. No matter what he did to me, I knew that I had to keep him happy. I had to do what he said.”
Dylan came closer. “It’s over now. You’re free of him.”
“Am I?” She ducked under the steam. Her tears mingled with the water of the pool. When she dared to look at her husband, she saw understanding in his gaze. “You don’t think I’m a coward for not fighting back?”
“He could have killed you.”
“I know, but—”
“Bravery comes in all kinds of packages. You chose survival. That took courage.” He opened his arms. “Let me hold you, darlin’.”
“Not yet.” There was one more thing she had to tell him. “If I don’t do what Nate says, I know that he’ll hurt the people I love. Like the vandalism at Maud’s.”
“Nothing that he does is your fault.”
Rationally, she knew he was correct. But that wasn’t how she felt. “I have to obey him. Even now.”
“Now? What do you mean?”
She heard a note of anger in his voice. I don’t want to tell him. But she had to confess. She couldn’t keep this secret anymore. “I’ve been talking to Nate. That’s why I wanted the cell phone. When I went outside the house to the burned stable, I was following Nate’s instruction. He left a GPS tracking device for me, and told me I had to keep it with me.”
“Is it with you now?”
“No.”
“Did you tell Nate where we were staying?”
She shook her head. “I’ve been telling him that I’m sick in bed and can’t move. The GPS tracker is behind the bedside table at the house.”
The faint lines across his forehead deepened. His mouth pulled into a straight, tight line. She knew that expression. He was thinking, running various options in his head.
The pale green of his eyes caught the reflected light from the waters. A muscle twitched in his jaw. Otherwise, he was as still as a rock. And silent.
“I’m sorry Dylan.”
Her apology felt insufficient. She’d lied to him, betrayed the most basic, essential element of a good relationship.
“Why?” he demanded.
“I was afraid. Afraid for myself. And for you. Don’t you see? I had to protect you.”
Abruptly he stood, waist-deep in the steaming pool. Liquid spilled from his shoulders and down his muscular chest in a glistening stream. Powerful and strong, he strode toward her. He grasped her upper arms and lifted her through the water. His face was only inches away from hers.
“You’ve been through hell.” His deep, quiet voice penetrated her fears. “I’m glad you told me about your captivity. I understand how much you were abused and hurt. Nate twisted your perceptions. But he didn’t break you, Nicole. And he didn’t break us.”
“Can you forgive me?”
“I’m working on it.” He kissed her gently. “When you decided not to tell me about your contact with Nate, you put yourself at risk. That’s hard to forget. I never want to lose you.”
“I’m not going anywhere.”
“No more secrets.”
She leaned against him and arched her neck, welcoming a deeper, more satisfying kiss. A familiar intimacy twined them closer together. Their marriage would survive; they were unbreakable.
There was one more secret. A happy surprise. She would save the news of her pregnancy for the perfect moment.
BACK IN THE BEDROOM of their condo, Dylan contacted Burke. On speaker phone so Nicole and Carolyn could participate, they started setting out the wide parameters of a plan to trap Nate.
Tomorrow morning, when Nicole called Nate, she’d arrange a meeting. Most important, she’d name the place.
“He’ll never agree to that,” Nicole said.
Over the speaker phone Burke said, “You need to make him think it’s his idea.”
“How can I do that?”
She sat in the center of the bed in her pink plaid flannel pajamas. Though the soothing waters of the mineral pool had eased some of the tension from her sore muscles, Dylan could tell she was still edgy from the way she fiddled with her hands and chewed her lower lip.
He thought of the duct tape slapped across her mouth, imagined her blue eyes wide with terror. A burst of rage exploded in the back of his head. Hate wasn’t a strong enough word to describe the way he felt about Nate Miller. What had Nicole said about a special place in Hell?
Easing onto the bed beside her, he massaged the base of her neck. He sensed that there was something else going on with her—something she hadn’t told him yet.
Burke—a trained negotiator for the FBI—gave Nicole some basic advice about how to deal with Nate. “Get him to agree with you. Ask him a question that he’ll answer in the positive.”
“Like what?” Nicole asked. “I have no idea what Nate wants.”
“Me,” Dylan said. “He wants my head on a silver platter. That’s what you promise him.”
She stared at him in horror and shock. “I could never do that. He won’t believe me.”
“You did a good job of play-acting when you told me you wanted a divorce,” he reminded her. “This is pretty much the same thing.”
“It’s a place to start,” Burke said. “Promise him that you’ll deliver Dylan. Tell Nate that your husband is an insensitive pain in the butt, and you’re sick of him.”
“Hey!” Dylan objected.
“Truth hurts,” Burke said.
“Just because I don’t spill my guts every time I stub my toe—”
“Hah!” Carolyn interrupted him. His sister always had something to say. “I’ve know you since you were born, Dylan. You never express your feelings. I can count on one hand the number of times I’ve seen you cry.”
That was how they were brought up. If his dad caught him whining, Dylan never would have heard the end of it. “Let’s move on. Nicole tells Nate that she wants to dump me. Then what?”
