Chapter Three
Kendra managed to finish her work just in the nick of time and was waiting for her cab at the curb in front of her apartment building by 9 pm. She honestly couldn’t wait to get on that plane and leave all her worries behind. She’d splurged way more on this vacation than she probably should have, but damn it, she needed some rest and relaxation, and more than deserved the pampering she’d arranged.
Just then, a cab pulled over and an uncommonly handsome young man stepped out from the driver’s side. “Miss Allenby?” he asked, and Kendra was too glad he was there on time to bother correcting him, simply nodding in reply instead. The cabbie said nothing, just nodded back and started loading her bags into the trunk before opening the door to the back for her.
“Thank you,” Kendra said, a little weirded out by his behavior, but choosing not to let it bother her too much. So the kid was a little antisocial, big deal. He probably had his reasons.
And she was right... but the cabbie’s reasons turned out to be more sinister than she thought.
For the most of the ride, other than the silence, nothing was out of the ordinary, and Kendra spent that time on her phone, replying to emails. It was by sheer accident that she happened to lift her head when the cabbie took what she knew to be the wrong turn. “You should’ve taken the left,” she said, her brow furrowing a little, but he said continued to drive as if she hadn’t spoken at all. Suddenly, Kendra began feeling anxious. She put the phone down and knocked on the glass panel between them. “Excuse me,” she called out to him, praying that he had simply misheard her but fearing much, much worse. “You’re going the wrong way,” she told him, but instead of a reply, he just stopped the car.
Out of nowhere, two more men entered the cab, one taking the passenger’s seat in the front, and Alexander Beauchamp taking the back seat with her.
Eyes wide in shock, Kendra reached for the pepper spray in her purse, but Mr. Beauchamp grabbed her by the chin, moving much, much faster than any human should’ve been able to, and his eyes, glistening silver, burrowed into hers.
“Sleep,” he ordered...
...and the next thing she knew, she was waking up on a bed in a strange room, rising up with a start, as if waking from a nightmare. Her heart beat wildly as she frantically looked around, trying to process what had happened to her, fear muddling her mind so much that she didn’t even realize someone else was in the room with her until they spoke.
“Good evening, Dr. Allenby.” A very deep, very masculine voice drew her attention to the chair by the window. Bathed in the dim light of a nearby floor lamp, a very rough looking man sat there, comfortably sprawled, chin resting atop his hand, his arm propped on the armrest. He looked indolent, yet the almost predatory level of focus in his eyes made Kendra believe he’d take no more than a second to pounce at her throat if he thought her a threat. There was something... very hungry about him, a sharp edge she couldn’t quite identify, but it hit her deep on a very instinctive level, and she knew she needed to be very careful around him.
But that didn’t mean she was willing to play the damsel in distress.
“Who are you and where the hell am I?” she demanded to know.
“You are where you need to be,” he replied, without much emotion. “And I am your host for the time being. My name is Sebastien Roche.”
Roche...
The pieces fell into place.
“Do you always kidnap people who refuse to come work for you?” she asked, showing what was probably too much anger for someone who needed to watch their step.
“If you’d taken our offer, there wouldn’t have been a need to bring you in by force,” he said dismissively. “All you need to know is that the only way you will walk out of here is if you do what I tell you to.”
“And if I don’t?”
“You will,” he told her with absolute certainty. “You have no other choice.”
Well. That wasn’t ominous or anything.
“People will notice I’m gone,” she said, trying to plant a seed of doubt in him.
It didn’t work.
“We sent an email from your phone to the resort, canceling your arrangement,” he replied matter-of-factly. “And we know you chose a secluded resort, and that no one expects to hear from you until after your return. Do your job right, and you’ll be released before anyone realizes something’s wrong.”
Insane. The man was positively insane. “And you think that I won’t instantly go to the police because...?”
Sebastien Roche rose from his seat and approached the bed slowly, like a prowling tiger. “You’ll see why soon enough,” he said, watching her intently. She should’ve been terrified of the way he looked at her, the way he loomed over the bed... but, as much as she hated to admit, though she still felt the need to be careful around him, the fear was slowly dissipating, making it harder and harder for her to ignore the raw strength emanating from him. It wasn’t just his build, either. Oh, yes, he was tall, taller than most men she knew, and built to exquisite proportion, all hard muscle under that mocha skin, accentuated rather than hidden by the tight black t-shirt and dark blue jeans that hung low on his hips. His dark hair was cropped close to the scalp, and his face, rough but handsome, carried features that spoke of his Creole ancestry, gifting him full lips, an aquiline nose and expressive, amber eyes.
But there was more to him than that. No man could exude such power on physique alone, even such an impressive one as his was. There was... a sense of command about him like he was someone used to dealing out orders and seeing them obeyed without question. It struck a very primal nerve within her, which annoyed her to no end. He had snatched her against her will and with the intent to force her into god knows what, all because she had refused to take the bait he’d dangled before her just earlier that day! She should despise him, not be thinking about how hot he was. For crying out loud, she’d just met the man – she should at least hold out for a few days before she let Stockholm Syndrome kick in.
For a minute or so, he just stood there, watching her, but then he closed his eyes and sighed, making Kendra wonder what exactly was going through his head.
“There’s food on the night stand,” he said, abruptly opening his eyes, and beginning to walk to the door. “The shower’s to your left, and your clothes are in the wardrobe. Eat, get dressed and come find me. The guards at the door will show you the way.” And, just like that, he was gone.
Frowning, Kendra got off the bed and approached the window. She had no idea where she was, though she suspected it was somewhere in Louisiana – she knew from conversations with Dr. Duquesne that Roche Laboratories was situated in Louisiana, and her host’s lazy drawl only solidified her presumption. The exact location, however, remained a mystery, for all she could see was an enormous lawn and the beginning of a wood that seemed to stretch out endlessly into the dark. The window was barred, and it seemed the room was at least two floors up, which instantly eliminated one possible escape route. She was still wearing the clothes she was in when her cab was jumped, so at least she knew they hadn’t violated her... any more than they already had, that was. She thought that the cabbie was probably in on the whole thing, and cursed herself for not trusting her instincts when she should have. Now she was in a mess she had no idea how to get out of, and had only the word of her captor that she would survive the ordeal.
She found the main switch on the wall and turned on the light. The room they had put her in was large, and decorated in the ornate elegance of Louis Quinze. Pretty, but not something she’d choose herself. Still, it spoke of the kind of luxury one couldn’t easily acquire within a single lifetime and confirmed many rumors about the reclusive Roche family, who were rumored to be involved in many charities and even more investments, working mostly through intermediaries so they could enjoy their lives far away from the public eye.
Turning her mind to her current predicament, Kendra began to investigate the room, hoping to find something, anything that would give her at least some advantage, but she was out of luck. Her kidnappers clearly knew what they were doing. The only things in the room were her clothes, shoes and cosmetics, all neatly arranged in appropriate locations. Her laptop, her phone, her documents... she had no idea where they were, but they sure as hell weren’t here.
Sighing in frustration, she decided that, for the time being, she needed to play the part of the good little captive. Perhaps if she made herself seem unthreatening, they’d loosen up the restraints they had on her and she could escape, or at least sneak a secret message out when they force her into sending one of those emails Sebastien spoke of. She sat on the edge of the bed, next to the nightstand, where a large serving tray held a covered plate and a bone china set consisting of a single cup and saucer, a sugar bowl, a creamer dish and a pot of coffee. She lifted the cloche off the plate to reveal a beautifully prepared meal of broiled chicken with steamed rice and a colorful mix of sautéed vegetables on the side. Her mouth watered at the sight of it – she’d skipped dinner, counting on the in-flight meal, which she had clearly never received. She wondered if she should leave the food untouched, but decided that would be counterproductive. If she intended to run the first chance she had, she needed to keep her strength... and she could really use the coffee. She had no idea what time it was, but it was night and she was obviously expected to stay up a while longer. The more alert she could keep herself, the better.
Half an hour or so later, the plate was polished, the coffee was gone, and Kendra had made full use of the bathroom, which was just as large and lavish as she expected it to be. She’d changed her clothes as well, and once she felt she was as ready to face whatever it was that awaited her outside this room as she’d ever be, she knocked on the door and waited for the guards Sebastien told her were there to open it.
She wasn’t surprised at all when one of those guards turned out to be Alexander Beauchamp.
This time, she didn’t even bother to control herself and smacked the bastard with a jab to the cheek that would’ve made her Tae Bo instructor proud.
She expected the other guard to restrain her, but he just laughed heartily while Beauchamp swore like a sailor.
“Well.” The other man turned to Kendra, clearly amused (and, dare she say, impressed?). “Now that you got that out of your system... I’m Stefan. You ready to go?”
She nodded, trading dirty looks with Beauchamp before they took her away to hopefully find out what the hell was going on.