by Wade, Dani
He swallowed, hard.
Stephen continued, “He threatened your children. Bastard knows exactly where to hurt her.”
Michael, too. He'd die if anything happened to his family.
“She couldn't risk it, Michael. You know the kids aren't under surveillance all the time, and it would have devastated her if something happened. She said her only choice was to go away.”
That had him straightening. “She's left? For good?”
“I don't think so. Not yet. Her message said she was going to visit her grandmother one more time. She has this idea that if she drops off the radar, then Bradley will lose interest.”
“I just want her here, where I can protect her.”
“I was hoping you'd feel that way,” Stephen said, proving Taylor had shared something their time together with her friend. “She's been trying to hold everything together on her own for so long, I don't think it even occurs to her to ask for help anymore.”
Michael rushed back down the hall, trucking for the garage. “Give me the address.” He paused in front of McKayla’s room. “And Stephen, thanks.”
“For once,” Stephen said, “I'd like to see Taylor get the knight in shining armor she deserves.”
* * *
Michael rushed through the nursing home doors. Please let her still be here. Please. Images of Taylor alone, needing his help, burned through his brain.
He would not let that happen.
He paused at the nurses’ station, giving the name Stephen said he'd used for Taylor's grandmother.
“I'm sorry, sir,” the nurse said. “Miss Maddie hasn't had any visitors all day.”
“Can I check her room, just to be sure?”
He tried to curb his impatience as the nurse insisted he sign in, reminding himself it was her job to keep the patients safe. But a quick search room 402 revealed no one but the frail woman bearing a resemblance to Taylor lying in the bed. Pausing out of respect, Michael bent low and whispered in the sleeping woman's ear. “I promise I'll take care of her.” Then he kissed her paper-thin cheek and walked slowly back out to the parking lot.
Now what? Would Taylor stop here? He knew she would. There was no way she’d leave without seeing her last living relative. But had she come and gone? Or had she not gotten here yet? Had Bradley found her before she could get away?
As he stood in the late summer heat, trying to decide what to do, his gaze caught on a maroon sedan at the other end of the parking lot. His pulse sped up. Maybe Taylor was sitting in her car?
Sprinting over, he was disappointed to find the driver’s seat empty. Where had she gone? He bent to look in the window. In the backseat he saw Taylor's tote bag and purse. Where was she?
Walking back to the sidewalk, he swept the front lawn with a thorough eye. There, in the shade of the hydrangea bushes, lay a flip-flop with a bright yellow sunflower on it.
The same kind he'd seen Taylor wear back and forth to the pool several times. Running over, he picked it up. The strap was broken. Taylor was here…and somehow Bradley was here too.
Dropping the shoe, Michael raced around the side of the building, listening closely for anything that might lead him to her. How long had she been here? He found himself facing a wooded area bordering a privacy fence that protected the nursing home inhabitants. He slowed down, not wanting to miss anything in his rush.
He paused on the edge of the tree line and pulled out his cell phone. A quick call to 911 put him in touch with an operator in seconds. “This is Michael Korvello. I'm at Sandy Ridge Nursing Home. I need assistance. There's a woman who has been kidnapped from her car and taken into the trees to the left of the building. Please send the police immediately.”
“Sir—”
Michael didn't wait for her instructions; he simply left the phone open and laid it on the ground. Plunging into the trees, luckily clear of most undergrowth except ferns, he kept his gaze moving as he jogged. His emotions urged him to sweep back and forth in case he missed her, but his instincts urged him to take a methodical approach. He had to be sure he covered every inch. He'd follow the perimeter first.
He had run about five minutes along the front, then side edge when he heard a noise. Pausing, he listened closely. Sure enough, a voice. Easing in, careful not to give himself away, he stalked in the same direction.
“I told you I'd find you, bitch.”
Michael's muscles tightened in warning, but he kept control. He needed to know what he was walking into first.
“You are mine, Taylor. Only mine. I will not share. And I'm pretty sure you'll need to be punished for breaking that rule. Am I right?”
Taylor's whimper broke his heart, but Michael eased into the line of sight with caution. About fifty yards away, Taylor rested on her knees, her back facing him. He couldn't see her hands, though he suspected they were tied, just like the gag around her mouth. Michael could see the knotted ends right below the fist clenched in her hair. But it was the glint of sunlight off metal that ratcheted up Michael's nerves.
Bradley was holding a knife.
“No one's going to help you out here, Taylor,” the man said as he crouched over her. “Bet you didn't tell anyone you were coming, huh? Not a smart move, even for you.”
Michael had the advantage of surprise, and he'd definitely need it. Bradley had a weapon; Michael had nothing. The other man was beefy, the muscles in his arms thick and defined. Even though Michael worked out, he suspected this guy had him by about fifty pounds of muscle or more. He'd have to hope he had all the smarts in this equation.
Fingers crossed the police were on their way, but he couldn't risk them writing the call off as a prank and take their time getting here. They'd probably question the staff first rather than searching the grounds. Any number of things could happen.
He wouldn't let Taylor be hurt any more.
He studied the situation for long moments, noting Bradley's shaking hand, high emotions, and the rest of the cord hanging out of his back pocket. Perfect. Turning his back, he searched the ground around him, gathered what he needed as quietly as he could, then turned back.
He winced as Bradley jerked on Taylor's hair extra hard, then did something to her side that made her whimper and squirm away.
“Stop whining, bitch. You know you like it,” Bradley said, causing Michael to see red.
He breathed a few times to calm himself before he put his plan into action. He tossed a couple of pine cones in a direct line back from him, rustling up the forest floor. The talking behind him stopped for a moment. Bradley had heard the sound.
So Michael threw another, and another, each one a little closer to him. Then he started to whistle very softly.
He heard Bradley's lowered voice from behind him. “Damn it—I bet some old fart has wondered off from the loony bin. Guess I'll have to take care of him.”
Protesting noises erupted from Taylor’s throat, but then Michael heard a dull thud.
“You just keep quiet like a good girl, or there'll be more where that came from.”
Michael struggled to maintain a steady whistle, as if he'd heard nothing. He had to focus, for Taylor's sake.
He lowered the whistle, then stopped as Bradley approached. The big oaf walked right past him, not expecting someone to come along to save his victim. Bradley certainly didn't expect someone like Michael.
Without warning Michael swung the heavy branch he'd picked up, aiming straight for Bradley’s knee. There was a grunt when it connected, but it didn't cover up the crack of bone. Michael didn't know if he broke it or simply dislocated it—and didn't care.
Bradley fell like the Giant did for Jack, giving Michael the chance to drop his knee—right in the middle of Bradley's back. Snatching Bradley's own rope, he had the bastard hog-tied in less than fifteen seconds.
Working on that pig farm as a teenager had finally been worth something.
Rushing over to Taylor, he brushed her hair back and gently worked the bandanna out of her mouth. “It’s okay,
Taylor. I'm here.”
“I'm so sorry, Michael,” she said, tears spilling down her cheeks. “I just didn't know what to do.”
“I realize that. You should have called me. First. Always. Got it?”
She nodded, though her eyes looked a little dazed. Bruises were already forming along one cheekbone.
“Everything is going to be all right,” he said, aching to brush the pain away. “I promise.”
She melted into him within seconds. But everything he’d witnessed warned him he had his work cut out for him to keep her there.
Chapter Fifteen
Taylor waited until the house was empty before she made her effort to repair things with Michael.
She'd been home for a week. At least, what she considered home. Hanging out with the kids, helping them get ready for school. It had been both heaven and hell.
Michael hadn't touched her. Not even casually. He didn't talk about what had happened either. He'd simply driven her home after the doctor had released her from the emergency room with some medicine for the cuts and bruises, but none of them had required stitches. Even the lacerations on her knees from being dragged along the forest floor. Her arm had needed an X-ray, but there weren't any fractures. It had turned a brilliant purple the next day, though.
Still Michael hadn't touched her.
Having him visit her bed had been too much to ask, she guessed. Still the ache in her chest kept her restless at night. His rejection hurt more than the wounds Bradley had inflicted. Loneliness and darkness—that wasn't what she wanted. She thought she'd caught a glimpse of desire in his eyes a time or two. Her own need made her yearn for it to be true…but what if it was just that? A reflection of what she wanted to see there, not what actually was?
She'd argued with herself all week but, this afternoon, had finally made a decision. She had to risk it. Had to. Even if it meant giving up the kids. Giving up the chance to see Michael at all. She couldn't go back to living as his nanny now that she'd learned what it was to be family, what it was like to be loved by him.
Knowing the kids would be gone to friends’ houses until lunchtime tomorrow gave her courage. She moved through the empty house, conscious of the drizzling rain that echoed her tears. It wouldn't stop her.
In her room she stripped and showered, then dressed in nothing but a thong and black lace stockings. She waited until she was in Michael's bedroom, the door closed enough to only leave a slight glimpse of her, before tackling the soft handcuffs. Using a fluffy pillow to cushion the still healing bruises on her knees, Taylor knelt beside the bed and waited.
A little while later, she heard the distinct sound of Michael’s truck coming up the drive. Relief flowed through her like a calming river. She had worried he might avoid coming home, since he knew she would be alone.
She heard nothing more until his footsteps thumped on the stairs. Leaning forward, she let the soft, loose waves of her hair fall to cover her face. The veiling effect protected her pride just a little. She was having a hard enough time facing him. If he rejected her outright—
She wouldn't think that way. Couldn't.
The door squeaked softly as it opened. Well, at least he didn't turn away at first glance. His quick, indrawn breath. His approach across the floor.
Please don't reject me.
Then he bent to one knee on the floor next to her. “No, Taylor,” he whispered, his voice soft and heartbreaking. “You don't have to do this. Never will I ask you to do this for me again.”
Her breath stilled. She pushed the fear aside to ask, “Why?”
“I just can't ask you for this after—I don't want to see you that vulnerable again.”
“But I want to.” She peeked at him through her hair.
Reaching out, he brushed one side of the waves back. Just like he used to. “You do?”
“I do want it,” she said, bowing her head again, with embarrassment this time. “But only with you, Michael. I love you.”
He stood tall, his weight shifting for a moment before he settled at her side. His knuckles soothed over her bare shoulder and down her back. “Please don't say it out of obligation, Taylor. I couldn't handle that.”
That brought her head around quick. “Is that what you thought? That I would only come to you because I was grateful?”
“I was afraid of it. Yes. I never want you coerced into doing something that hurts you, shames you, or makes you afraid. You deserve to be happy.”
“Loving you makes me the happiest I've ever been.”
“I will make you even happier. For a lifetime, baby.”
“And what about you?” she asked as she watched his eyes drift to the soft mounds of her breasts. Her nipples tightened, bare before his searching gaze. “What makes you happy?”
“My kids. My music.” Finally his eyes rose to hers. “But you are what makes it all complete, Taylor. I love you.”
She gifted him with her beautiful smile. “Then show me.”
He did…and it was the performance of a lifetime.
Also Available From Dani Wade
SNOW BOUND
The last thing Damon West wants is a trip to his bookish neighbor’s house in the midst of the worst snowstorm Cadence, TN, has seen in a decade. Still, his military instincts warn him that Miss Priss could use a little help. His arrival is met with an attack by an unknown assailant and the sight of Miss Priss in a sexy wisp of nothing-much, confidently wielding a double-barreled shotgun.
Tori Anderson carefully portrays herself as a responsible bookstore owner and capable young woman to anyone willing to look twice. But two men grappling in her backyard called for speed more than decorum. That’s how the guy she’d been secretly lusting after since he’d bought the house next door sees her in a silky robe and panties—with nothing in between. Damon’s sudden interest thrills her, but she can’t help worrying about the unknown threat scared off by her shotgun blast.
Trapped in her house, snow blocking the roads and no way to reach the outside world, Tori finally has the chance to indulge her wildest fantasies. But she isn’t sure which is more daunting—the abusive boyfriend back to punish her for helping convict him of murder or her desire to have more than one night with the town’s most unavailable bachelor.
**************
Snow Bound
Amazon:
http://www.amazon.com/dp/B009Z1FCW6
About the Author
Author Dani Wade started her writing journey in a childhood spent in the rural south where her favorite form of entertainment was imagining herself in the roles of romantic heroines. She now juggles her writing obsession with a patient hubby, two lively kids, and a day job. Life is crazy, but she attempts to navigate the potholes with her trusty To Do List and half a brain.
Dani Wade loves to hear from her readers! She can be contacted via email (readdaniwade @ gmail.com) or through her website http://www.DaniWade.com .For more information about her books, check out her website at www.DaniWade.wordpress.com/books/ . She also enjoys blogging weekly at www.DaniWade.wordpress.com/blog/ .
She can be found on Facebook https://www.facebook.com/dani.wade.1?ref=tn_tnmn and Twitter as @daniwade1.
