CHAPTER ONE

Sirens screamed through the darkness of the night. Lights flashed, casting a strange
reddish-blue tint to everything they touched. The normally quiet suburban neighborhood
soon woke from its previously undisturbed slumber. A light flashed on in the upper window
of a nearby home. A shadow passed over the drawn curtains as the occupant was awakened by
the noise outside on the street. The curtains parted to reveal the form of a woman after
only a brief pause.

"What is it?" asked a sleepy male voice.

"I`m not sure," replied the shadowed form of the female. "Go back to
sleep. I`ll check it out and see."

The male within the large bed dutifully closed his eyes without another thought.

The curtain within her hands dropped away and she turned back to the bed to grab up her
night wrap. Slinging it around her well-muscled, broad shoulders, she tied it around her
tiny waist then shut the door to the bedroom without thought to the lover she was leaving
behind.

She descended toward the first floor in total darkness, not bothering with the light; she
knew her childhood home like the back of her hand. At the bottom of the wide, carpeted
stairs she turned left, heading for the front door and pulling it wide without thinking.

Stepping out into the coolness of the October night, she pulled the wrap tighter and
approached the officers gathered around the mangled remains of what looked like an SUV. It
had been smashed into a telephone pole in one of her neighbor`s yards and she was shocked
to see no one inside as she got closer. The headlights almost touched and she wondered how
anyone could have survived. The driver`s door had been pushed open and she thought for a
moment that maybe the occupant had already been taken away to the hospital.

"Ma`am…" said an officer in a stern voice as she got closer. "Ma`am,
please go back inside. There`s nothing to see here."

She moved closer, giving the officer a stern look of her own before asking a simple,
"What happened?"

"Ma`am, please, go back inside and lock your doors," the officer commanded in
return.

The woman planted her feet in her perfectly manicured lawn and crossed her arms over her
well-endowed chest. "Tell me what`s going on."

The officer sighed deeply, sensing somehow that he wouldn`t win without telling her what
she wanted to know. With a placating hand on her elbow, he explained as he turned her back
toward her home. "Ma`am, the suspect is still loose in the neighborhood. Now please,
go back inside your home and lock all your doors." He gave her a gentle but insistent
shove back toward her front door.

With a soft snort, she did just that, all but slamming the door behind her. Once inside
again, she moved through the darkness toward the kitchen, still not bothering with the
light.

She was halfway there when she felt something hard and cold shoved into her back, just
below her ribs. A hand descended over her mouth and pulled her backward into the object
and a sudden voice hissed in her ear. "Make a sound and I swear I`ll shoot
you…"

If she`d have been able she would have laughed, but the hand over her mouth made sure she
couldn`t do anything other than stand there. Which is what she did, remaining still as
stone until he spoke again.

"Is there anyone else in the house?" hissed in her ear a second or so later.

Slowly, she shook her head underneath his hand, thinking to herself that while her lover
was upstairs, he wouldn`t be appearing anytime soon no matter how much noise she made.

She smelled the fear rolling off the man behind her, as well as the blood, which was
obviously from the crashed SUV next door. He had to have been hiding somewhere in the
manicured bushes and snuck inside when no one was looking.

"You`re sure you`re alone?" he questioned, shoving the gun in her ribs harder
in implication.

She nodded, keeping her breathing calm and even while she folded her hands in front of
her tightly wrapped robe.

"If I take my hand away promise you won`t scream?"

Again she nodded as the barrel was pushed deeper into her ribs and the hand slowly
dropped away. "Put your hands behind you," he commanded in a soft hiss.

She did just that. His free hand dropped to the belt of her robe and untied it swiftly,
pulling the ends around behind her and wrapping them around her crossed wrists.

"If you behave I`ll let you go after the police have moved on…" he hissed
softly as he wound the belt. When he seemed satisfied that she wasn`t going anywhere, he
shoved the barrel of the gun deeper in her ribs to prod her toward the back of the house.
"I heard you talking to the cops. What did you say?" he asked as he guided her
along with a tight grip on her shoulder.

"I simply asked what was going on," she replied as they moved through the
darkness toward the kitchen. "They weren`t very forthcoming I`m afraid, other than to
say you were still in the neighborhood," she admitted honestly, shrugging her
shoulders.

"You`re not afraid of me?" he asked as they arrived in the kitchen and he
pushed her into the chair with a hard shove.

The air left her for a moment and she sucked in a breath before being able to answer.
"If you were going to shoot me, you already would have," she stated when she
could. "Besides that weapon is not silenced and the cops would come running with the
first shot," she stated as she saw his shadow pass over the window.

From the looks of his outline, he was a big man, at least 6`3" or 6`4" with
very broad shoulders. She could just make out the standard issue orange prison jumper he
still wore.

"You escaped from the county jail," she stated in a soft, simple tone. It was
an observation, made calmly as he moved toward the back door and checked the locks in the
darkness.

"Yes. I did," His voice returned as he came around behind her again. He grabbed
a handful of her long, full hair and pulled back hard. "Does that scare you?"

Again, she shrugged slowly, her eyes tearing slightly in pain. "Not really, but
there`s no need to get violent about it," she said. "I won`t fight you."
When he didn`t seem reassured, she smiled in the darkness and whispered in her best
seductive tone. "I promise…" as she shifted slightly and pushed her ample chest
through the folds of her wrap.

He dropped her hair then, shoving her head forward roughly. "What are you…some kind
of sick freak?" He moved off in the darkness again and peered out the small window
over the sink.

She chuckled to herself, but remained calm, tossing her hair out of the way as she spoke
again. "Not really. Just a girl making the best of what could be a terrifying
situation."

His silhouette turned toward her and she saw his smile. The light from outside glinted
off the barrel of the gun as he brandished it toward her. "That`s right lady. Don`t
screw around. Behave yourself and I`ll be out of here soon…" he said emphasizing each
word with a shake of the gun.

Again she chuckled to herself and relaxed against the back of the kitchen chair, lifting
one leg to cross it over the other as if she was merely getting ready to share a cup of
tea with someone. "I told you I wouldn`t fight you," she said softly.

* * *

Several hours passed while the man continued to stare out the window. The police finally
moved on, giving up on the search. She saw his wide shoulders slump in relief as the last
of the police lights was turned off and the cars began to disperse. Neither of them had
said a word since her last statement and it was he who broke the silence as he came toward
her in the darkness.

"Come on," he stated, tucking the weapon into his pocket as he lifted her from
the chair. "I need to get out of here. Where are your car keys?" he asked as he
dragged her toward the front hall again.

"In my purse on the table," she stated, moving along without resistance.

When they reached the mentioned object, he rummaged around in it for a moment and finally
pulled out a set of keys on a simple ring. "Where`s your car?"

"In the garage," she returned coolly.

He muttered something about literal females, and shoved her toward the hall coat closet.
"I`m afraid I`m going to have to tie you up and gag you," he stated without
compunction as he opened the door.

"Not really," she said, planting her feet much as she had in the lawn hours
before. "I could always fix you a nice, warm meal before you go."

When he didn`t respond, but kept trying to shove her in the closet, she tried logic.
"I mean, who knows when you`re going to get to eat again." He didn`t seem
convinced. "I`m an excellent cook, I assure you, and could have a nice steak and
potatoes whipped up in no time." She remained unmoved despite his attempts to get her
into the closet.

His stomach chose that moment to grumble loudly, reminding him that he hadn`t eaten since
his supper in the jail the evening before. He debated a moment more, then removed the gun
from his pocket and shoved it into her ribs again. "Alright, but no funny
business." His voice was cold and menacing as he undid the loops of her belt.

"No funny business," she reiterated with a slight smirk on her lips as she
turned and moved back toward the kitchen.

Reaching around the doorjamb she turned on the light and got her first good look at her
captor since his unexpected arrival. In turn, he got the first good look at his hostage
once his eyes had adjusted to the light.

He was 6`4", as she`d surmised, with long brownish blond hair that easily reached
the collar of the bright orange jumpsuit. His chest was broad, well muscled, testifying to
either a life of hard work, or a long prison sentence. His bright blue eyes looked cold
and calculating as they took in the modest, clean and homey kitchen. His long legs were
even more muscular than his chest, and she turned away to hide the smirk on her lips as
she moved off toward the cabinets.

He slid slowly into the chair she`d occupied and kept his gun trained on her. He
following her every move as he took her in with a cold eye. She was tall, for a woman,
almost six feet herself, well muscled if the flat stomach, broad shoulders and long, toned
legs were any indication. She moved with a kind of grace that most women just didn`t have.
Confidence. Cool, calm confidence that wasn`t lost on him. If times had been different …
he might have … what … he mentally berated himself, -dated her? He chuckled derisively at
his own thoughts.

He watched, gulping softly as her long, almost pitch black hair swayed softly against her
pristine white robe. The silk rustled softly as she pulled down a can of coffee from the
cabinet. She fixed a pot and set it to brew before moving off toward the refrigerator with
slow, cool grace.

"You really aren`t scared of me are you?" he asked incredulously.

Her wide shoulders shrugged slowly as she rummaged around in the freezer for the steak
she`d promised him. She turned back, setting the meat on the counter before answering.
"Like I said, if you were going to shoot me, you`d have done so in those first
moments." She unwrapped the meat to let it thaw while she bent and retrieved a wide
skillet from another cabinet.

The coffee was just finishing up as she set the pan on the eye of the stove. Flipping on
the heat, she pulled out two mugs. "Mind if I join you?" She looked to him for
an answer with the pot poised to pour.

He jerked the gun once and nodded. As she poured, he noticed the slight shake in her
hand. So, she`s not as calm as she seems… his mind said with a soft chuckle. Have to give
her credit though… He paused his thought a moment later as she set the cup in front of
him. She`s trying…

For a moment, he thought she might toss the hot brew in his face, scalding him and try to
escape. But the pot descended slowly toward the table without incident, especially after
he cocked the gun.

She turned away quickly to hide the smirk on her face and in her eyes as she reached for
her own cup and took a long swig. Turning back and under control again, she leaned against
the counter, cup in hand and asked softly, "So, what`d you do?" while she waited
for the pan to heat.

"Killed a man…" he stated in a nonchalant tone lifting and drinking from his
own mug. "At least that`s what they seem to think." He added, licking the warm,
wonderful "real" coffee from his lips. He was unable to help the soft sigh that
escaped him as he spoke. "This coffee is good. What kind is it?" He couldn`t
have stopped the question even if he`d wanted to, because he hadn`t coffee that good in
months.

She shrugged, the action causing her robe to part again and expose her tanned breasts.
"My own blend. A bit of Columbian Bean, some nutmeg, a pinch of vanilla, and a smidge
of orange to add some flavoring," she stated as she turned toward the fridge to
retrieve the butter. "Would you like mushrooms with your steak?" she asked
solicitously.

"Sure," he returned, amazed that this woman, only a few inches shorter than
himself could be so calm in the face of what was happening between them. He took another
long draw from the cup in his hand, and shook his head at the turn of events. It was as if
she`d turned the tables on him with hardly any effort at all. Going from hostage to
hostess as she plopped a generous helping of butter in the skillet then added the steak.
Both sizzled softly as the heat began to cook them and she calmly took a few moments to
chop up some potatoes and put some water on to boil.

"Do you mind if I season the steak?" she asked as she stood in front of her
opened cabinets. "I just can`t stand the thought of serving you something that I
wouldn`t eat myself." She began to pull down several bottles and was sprinkling the
seasonings before he could answer.

"What are you adding?" he asked, rising slowly to come toward her and the
heavenly aroma already wafting off the pan. His stomach rumbled again and he thought about
the last decent meal he`d had. It had been months, literally, not since the night he was
arrested. He`d been visiting his mother, on the other side of Chicago. They were just
sitting down for dinner when a heavy pounding sounded on the door. He shook his head to
stave off the memory and poked the gun in her back again. "I said, what are you
adding?"

"And I said, nothing but some simple spices," she repeated, her voice going
slightly irritated before she brought it under control. "Some pepper, garlic, a pinch
of rosemary for flavoring, and a bit of salt. Trust me, it`ll be the best steak you`ve
ever had. I told you I was quite the cook," she added as she worked the spices into
the meat with a long fork.

Again, he thought she might turn and try to attack him with the fork, but she kept it on
the steak, indeed working the spices into the meat as it cooked. She added a bit more from
one bottle, then from a second, and finally a third before she spoke, turning to look at
him over her shoulder. "I told you I wouldn`t fight you. Now please sit down, it
won`t take long to cook."

He couldn`t help himself and moved to obey without question. He wondered, once more, how
she`d managed to turn the tables on him, from hostage to hostess, but she had and he eased
himself back into the chair without thinking. Laying the gun on the table, he lifted his
cup and asked politely. "More coffee please?"

She turned, lowering the heat under the steak and poured him another cup without a word.
All the while she cooked, she sipped from her own cup. It took her about a half hour to
finish off the heavenly smelling meal and set it before him. The sun was just lightening
the sky as he picked up the knife and fork and dug in without another word passing between
them.

She sat back in the chair calmly watching him eat, all the while drinking her coffee. He
ate heartily, as if this were his last meal, digging in and swallowing the barely chewed
meat. She made a mental note to work on his manners in the future, but let it go without
saying anything as she sipped at the home made brew in her cup. He was half way threw the
meal before he realized something was wrong.

His limbs began to get heavy … laden … as if he suddenly had great weights attached to
his wrists. He struggled to lift each bite to his mouth, but was so consumed with eating
the meal that he couldn`t focus on what was actually wrong. It was only after he couldn`t
lift his arms at all, that he managed to lift his head toward her and question in a
slurred voice, "What … what did … you do?"

She shrugged again and he finally saw the smirk on her face as her eyes glittered across
the table at him. "Drugged you," she stated as she set the cup down with a long,
slow smile.

"With … with what…" he asked as he began to loose control over the muscles in
his face.

"Oh it`s harmless, I promise you." She rose from her chair then moved around
the table to calmly pick up the gun he`d threatened her with all night.

His eyes grew wide with fear for a moment and she chuckled as she pulled the clip from
the butt and calmly emptied it into one hand. "Don`t worry, I`m not going to shoot
you." She said as she dropped the empty magazine and bullets into one pocket of her
robe. Tossing the gun to the table, she moved his arms to his sides and straddled him on
the chair. Running her long fingers through his hair she chuckled slowly as she spoke.

"The drug I gave you is my own blend, like my coffee," she stated, leaning back
against the table behind her and slowly beginning to unzip the front of his jumpsuit.
"You`ll be able to see and hear everything that`s going on around you," she said
as the zipper slid open. "But unable to react. You can blink your eyes and with some
will power move your head, but anything below your neck is useless … for at least 24
hours," she added as the zipper opened fully and she got her first glimpse at his
rock hard chest.

Sighing softly, she ran her long fingers over the hard planes and her eyes twinkled as
they gazed into his. "Just as I`d hoped … not an ounce of fat. A fine addition; yes
indeed, a fine addition." she added, as she rose off his lap and moved off out of his
line of sight without another word.