Kidnapped for Christmas Read online

  An Ellora’s Cave Romantica Publication

  www.ellorascave.com

  Kidnapped for Christmas

  ISBN 9781419919190

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

  Kidnapped for Christmas Copyright © 2008 Evangeline Anderson

  Edited by Shannon Combs.

  Photography and cover art by Les Byerley.

  Electronic book Publication December 2008

  The terms Romantica® and Quickies® are registered trademarks of Ellora’s Cave Publishing.

  With the exception of quotes used in reviews, this is book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without written permission from the publisher, Ellora’s Cave Publishing, Inc.® 1056 Home Avenue, Akron OH 44310-3502.

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  This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the authors’ imagination and used fictitiously.

  Kidnapped for Christmas

  Evangeline Anderson

  Dedication

  This one is for Kristi, a good friend who loves to listen.

  Trademarks Acknowledgement

  The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction:

  Frappuccino: Starbucks U.S. Brands

  Jacuzzi: Jacuzzi Inc.

  Kia: Kia Motors America, Inc.

  Rolling Stone Magazine: Straight Arrow Publishers, Inc.

  Slim–Fast Shakes: Unilever Supply Chain, Inc..

  Starbucks: Starbucks U.S. Brands

  The Tampa Tribune: Media General Communications Holdings

  Chapter One

  “Let me get this straight—you’re paying someone to kidnap you?” Jillian Marks looked up from her steaming cappuccino, certain that her sister had finally gone completely crazy.

  “That’s right.” Sabrina gave her a smug look and flipped her long dark hair over one bony shoulder. She was the younger sister, but only by thirteen months and thirteen days. Jillian had often thought the double bad luck number had followed her from the moment of her sister’s birth. Because Sabrina was a mess.

  At age four, she’d decided it would be fun to swim in the baptismal pool at church. At age twelve she’d picked a fight with the biggest bully at Our Lady of the Sacred Heart, starting a feud that lasted for years. But her bad luck and bad judgment didn’t end when they were children—Sabrina was still getting into trouble years later. Like the time she’d had the idea to hide in the men’s locker room and watch the football team au naturel for a tell-all exposé for their college newspaper about how men really act when there are no women around. It just never ended. Sabrina was always in the thick of things. And Jillian was always the one who had to clean up after her.

  Jillian was the one who pulled her sister out of the pool before she drowned. Jillian was the one who defended Sabrina from bullies at school. And Jillian was the one who had talked the dean out of suspending her sister when she was discovered taking notes in the locker room. In fact, Jillian was the one who mopped up every single mess Sabrina made. So it was natural for her to be apprehensive about her little sister’s latest harebrained scheme.

  “Who did you pay? Do you even know what you’re getting into?” Jillian pushed her own sheaf of long dark hair out of her face and took another sip of her low-fat cappuccino. It was perfect, with a thick head of foam you could float a dime on. Sabrina was sipping an eggnog Frappuccino with double whipped cream. It was one of those seasonal Starbucks flavors that was only out for a few months. Since it was only three weeks until Christmas, Sabrina was drinking as much eggnog Frappuccino as she could, because she wouldn’t be able to get it again until next Yuletide.

  The two sisters were so close in age and so closely resembled each other that they were often mistaken for twins even though Jillian thought they looked nothing alike. True, they both had long dark hair and dark eyes but Sabrina was slender while Jillian was…not. How Sabrina fit her bony ass into her size-three jeans while living on a diet of high-fat Frappuccinos and junk food was more than Jillian could figure. She herself lived on rabbit food and Slim–Fast and still wore an eighteen. Her little sister must have gotten all the skinny genes in the family while Jillian got all the common sense. Sometimes Jillian wished they could trade—that was until Sabrina got herself into another mess. Then she thought that she’d rather be plus-sized and levelheaded than model thin and scatterbrained like her sister.

  “Well?” she asked impatiently since Sabrina seemed more interested in drawing patterns in the whipped cream with her straw than answering questions.

  “Sure, I know what I’m getting into. The actual ‘nap is done by a company called We Kidnap U. I read about them in Rolling Stone. They started in Houston of all places and then branched out to Atlanta, Chicago and New York. And now they’ve opened an office in Tampa.” She grinned, her eyes flashing with excitement. “I saw an article in The Tribune and I just had to do it. Getting ‘napped is the it thing right now.”

  Jillian put down her steaming cappuccino and rubbed her temples where a tension headache was beginning to build. “You’re talking like it’s some kind of fashion statement that you just have to get in on. I mean, ‘napped for Pete’s sake? Do I have to remind you of the time you had to dye your hair blue and it came out in streaks? Or the time when you had to get a tattoo of your boyfriend’s name on your ass and broke up with him a week later and had to have it removed? Or how about when you just had to get your tongue pierced and you had an allergic reaction to the metal? Your tongue swelled up so big it would hardly fit in your mouth.”

  “That tongue thing was ages ago.” Sabrina dismissed her big sister’s concern with a casual wave.

  “Try three months ago,” Jillian snapped. She could have screamed with frustration. “I was the one who drove you to the ER and held your hand while you got unpierced. And I was the one who got you an emergency appointment with my hairdresser to fix your hair. And I went with you to every single removal session to have Lorenzo’s name burned off your butt with a laser too. Do you begin to see a pattern developing here, Breeny?”

  “Whatever. Planning your own kidnapping is so exciting. I just couldn’t pass it up.”

  “Wait a minute.” Jillian held out a hand, palm up. “You actually plan it?”

  “Uh-huh. They have this form you fill out that tells them all the things you’re into. You tell them exactly what you want and they do it.” Sabrina shrugged. “Simple as that.”

  “No, not simple at all.” Jillian narrowed her eyes and tapped the glass-topped table they were sitting at for emphasis. “For starters, what kind of things are we talking about?”

  Sabrina pouted. “I know what you’re thinking, but it doesn’t have to be sexual—unless you want it to be, that is. There’s no actual intercourse allowed because that wouldn’t be legal. Mostly they just, you know, tie you up and blindfold you and…you know, whatever else you ask for.”

  “Uh-huh.” Jillian nodded grimly. “Aside from what you asked for, which is obviously on the kinky sid
e since you won’t talk about it, how do you know this is safe? I mean, you’re putting your life in the hands of some stranger you’ve never seen before.”

  “But that’s part of the fun—the danger and uncertainty.” Sabrina’s dark eyes flashed as she leaned forward eagerly. “I mean, just think of it—you’re walking along down the street at any hour of the day or night—you never know when it’s going to happen—and suddenly you’re grabbed by this huge, menacing man, blindfolded, handcuffed and shoved into a van. Then they take you back to their lair and do all kinds of things to you—but only the things you specified on the form,” she added hastily. “What could go wrong?”

  Jillian massaged her temples some more. “So many things can go wrong I can’t even name them all. For starters, once they have you tied up and helpless how do you know they won’t go too far?”

  “Duh—because then you wouldn’t pay them the other half of your deposit.” Sabrina rolled her eyes as though it was the stupidest question she’d ever heard. “Besides, they’re licensed and bonded.” She giggled. “It’s so cute how they put it in their brochure—‘We’re bonded to do bondage’.”

  “What government agency would even license a place like that? And what kind of license would they get?” Jillian demanded. “A license to tie people up and do lewd and lascivious things to their bodies?”

  Sabrina looked sulky. “I don’t know any of that. But there’s a predetermined safe word too. If things get too intense you can just shout it out and they’ll stop—that’s guaranteed in the contract you sign.” She folded her arms over her chest. “And before you ask, no, I won’t tell you mine. Or the things I ordered for my own personal ‘nap. In fact, I’m only telling you this much because I don’t want you to get upset if you can’t reach me for a couple of days.”

  “A couple of days? Oh my God.” Jillian shook her head. “You’ve finally gone off the deep end, Sabrina. I can’t believe you ordered yourself a custom kidnapping.”

  Her little sister smiled. “It’s my Christmas present to myself. I was going to get a boob job but then I decided that this was cheaper and more exciting.”

  Jillian frowned. “Oh, it sounds exciting all right. Like having-your-worst- nightmare-come-true exciting.”

  Sabrina shook her head. “No, no—like riding a roller coaster or bungee jumping or skydiving exciting.” She shivered, a look of gleeful anticipation filling her eyes. “I just can’t wait! It’s going to be sometime in the next two weeks and I don’t even know when—I just know it’s going to happen. I mean, they could grab me as you and I walk out of this Starbucks together. Just imagine!”

  “I am imagining,” Jillian said dryly. “I’m imagining what Mom and Dad are going to say when you suddenly disappear off the face of the earth and I have to explain to them that you’re being held hostage in some kinky sex dungeon having a muscular stranger make your wildest desires a reality.”

  “Don’t you dare tell on me!” Sabrina pointed one long manicured fingernail at her. “I swear to God, if you tell them where I am, I’ll tell them the real reason you broke up with Barry.”

  Jillian winced at the mention of her ex-fiancé. Barry had been the perfect man—at least according to her parents. He was a well-heeled stockbroker with plenty of money and financial security not to mention that he loved to do crosswords and jigsaw puzzles on his off hours, which was her mother’s hobby too. He also liked to go out fishing with her dad. Looking at her and Barry together, anyone would think they were the perfect couple—at least her parents certainly had. They had been devastated when Jillian had called it quits. But even though Jillian didn’t share her sister’s love for death-defying thrills, she did want a little excitement occasionally. Not that she should ever have admitted it to Sabrina, she told herself with a sigh.

  “I broke up with him because we grew apart,” she said primly, taking another sip of her rapidly cooling cappuccino.

  “Bullshit.” Sabrina slurped up a mouthful of whipped cream from the top of her cup, getting some on her nose in the process. “You broke up with him because he was boring. And not just boring in a general way—boring in bed.”

  “I did not—I mean, that’s not the reason! And lower your voice.” Jillian glanced around the crowded Starbucks, making sure the other patrons, who were mostly busy holiday shoppers, hadn’t heard her little sister’s loud explanation of her personal problems. Her warning didn’t faze Sabrina a bit.

  “Boring Barry, that’s what you called him. And you broke up with him because he didn’t know how to fuck,” she proclaimed in a loud voice, lapping whipped cream from the end of her straw. “You told me so that night at Del Sol.”

  “My God, I never should have let you take me there.” Jillian tried not to see the curious eyes that were now staring in their direction.

  “But you did,” Sabrina pointed out smugly. “And then you proceeded to drink a whole pitcherful of strawberry margaritas all by yourself and that’s when the truth came out. A truth I will personally tell Mom and Dad if you so much as breathe a word to them about my ‘nap.”

  “All right, all right.” Jillian put down her cup and held up her hands. “You got me on this one. But just think about it before you go through with this crazy thing, Breeny. It doesn’t sound safe—I’m worried about you.”

  “I’ll be fine.” Sabrina waved her straw with an airy gesture and flipped a glob of whipped cream onto Jillian’s brown suede skirt in the process. “Don’t worry about me. Just be sure to take care of Buster while I’m gone and tell Mom and Dad I went to the Keys to do some parasailing or something.”

  Jillian sighed, but she knew Sabrina’s story would hold. It was exactly the kind of thing her impulsive little sister would do at a moment’s notice—drop everything and run off to have fun in the sun. And even though it was a little chilly in Tampa right now she knew that the weather in the Florida Keys would still be warm and balmy—perfect for sunbathing and parasailing. Just thinking about it made her long for some fun in the sun herself.

  “All right, I’ll keep your secret. But please—be careful,” she pleaded with her sister.

  Sabrina laughed. “As careful as I ever am,” she promised. “And who knows, maybe the muscular man who does my ‘nap will turn out to be my prince charming and I’ll bring him home to meet Mom and Dad for Christmas.”

  “I’d say the chances of Mom and Dad welcoming a professional kidnapper and bondage artist as a son-in-law are about the same as me getting back with Barry,” Jillian said dryly, raising an eyebrow at her sister. Sometimes Sabrina could be so unrealistic.

  “Well, a girl can dream, can’t she?” Sabrina tossed her hair again, smiling impishly. “And you never can tell what might happen in a situation like that. Tied down, helpless, forced to submit while he…never mind.” She shook her head, obviously realizing she’d gone too far. “But it’s going to be good. I can’t wait!” she ended with another irrepressible grin.

  “Well, I still don’t think you should do this, but there doesn’t seem to be anything I can say to talk you out of it.” Jillian sighed as she reached across the table and dabbed at the whipped cream on her sister’s nose with a napkin. “So let’s go—I have a lot more shopping to do. I haven’t gotten anything for Dad yet.”

  “Jilly, you know I hate to ask but I’m just a little strapped for cash right now. Do you think we could go halfsies on Dad’s present?” Sabrina tilted her head to one side in the way that everyone always found adorable. The charming gesture was lost on Jillian but she nodded as she wiped the whipped cream off her skirt.

  “Sure, I guess.”

  Sabrina brightened. “Great! Then I’ll pay you back my half after New Year’s. Now what do you think he’d like? A new fishing rod maybe?”

  “Maybe,” Jillian sighed, knowing she would never see the money for her sister’s half of their father’s Christmas present. No doubt Sabrina had spent her extra cash on the ridiculous ‘nap scheme or some other crazy thing. Sometimes, Jillian reflected, sh
e got tired of being the sensible one and wished she could have a little of Sabrina’s devil-may-care attitude toward life. If she did, she would never have gotten involved with Boring Barry in the first place. But on the other hand, if Jillian wasn’t practical and down to earth, who would rescue her little sister when she got herself into scrapes?

  No, she decided as they left the Starbucks and headed back out into the chilly Tampa evening, an adventure of any kind definitely wasn’t in the cards for her this holiday season. In fact, the closest she would probably get to any excitement was trying to guess what color scarf her mom had knitted for her on Christmas morning. She just hoped her sister’s designer kidnapping didn’t spill over into her own life and ruin her holiday season. But knowing Sabrina, that wasn’t very likely.

  Not likely at all.

  * * * * *

  “You’ve gotta be kidding me.” Kyle Stephens glared at his younger brother. “You want me to what?”

  “Fill in for me for a couple of days. What’s the big deal?” Adam tried to hand him the manila folder again but Kyle wasn’t taking it.

  “I don’t think so.” He took a step back, nearly tripping over the swanky Persian rug that decorated the hardwood floor of his brother’s office. It was true that since Adam had bought into the We Kidnap U business, he was rolling in dough—his office with its gorgeous fixtures and expensive art proved it. But it was the dungeon below, with its whips and chains and every other weird and kinky device a twisted mind could dream up, that concerned Kyle. In his opinion if you had to run a room like the one below in order to get a room like the one above, it wasn’t worth it.

  “C’mon, Kyle. I have to go to this convention—it’s mandatory for all the franchise owners.” Adam shoved the folder at him again and this time Kyle reluctantly accepted it. But he didn’t open it—not yet.