Free Taken and Tamed by Kallista Dane Page A

wall of glass, her mind filling with images from every scary movie she’d ever seen.
    She tiptoed to the front door and opened it, planning to call out for him. Then she froze. He was talking to someone, his voice hushed.
    “…still out like a light. I had no idea. Nothing in her dossier about it or Lord knows I’d have done something different back there.”
    There was silence, then he spoke again.
    “Carter is clean. Otherwise he’d have been here by now. He knows where the place is, we were both up here once with Dave during hunting season. It’s time to try closer to home. Yeah. Jacobs. I know, I know. Me either. But she’s the only one left.”
    More silence.
    “You’ll be here tomorrow to take her out? She’ll be royally pissed but you have to keep her locked up somewhere until it’s over. Yeah, that sounds good. Hey, do me a favor? Bring me some grub. Anything. I’m so hungry I’m ready to rustle up a pot of roadkill stew. Thanks, I will.”
     
    * * *
     
    Zander opened the door with one hand, his other arm gripping a load of firewood. He stopped dead. Cass stood in the center of the living room, her body tightly wrapped in the quilt, hands on her hips.
    “Okay, Mr . Coleman, if that’s your name. Time to quit the bullshit. Who are you and why are we really here?”
    He opened his mouth but before he could get a word out, she’d gone off on a rant.
    “I know you’re not a stone-cold enforcer for some mob boss. You’d have gotten rid of me a long time ago. And that escape in Atlanta—way too easy. It was obviously planned. I just happened to walk back in unexpectedly. You’ve been improvising ever since.”
    She marched toward him, but her aggressive stance was doused somewhat when the quilt slipped down, baring one firm tit. She caught the sudden glint in his eyes and grabbed the hem, pulling it back up and clutching it tighter around her, all the while without missing a beat.
    “So what is it? You’re some kind of undercover agent? You’ve got a…”
    “Yes.”
    His response stopped her in her tracks. She gaped at him, mouth open like a fish.
    “Yes?” Her voice rose to a shriek. “ Yes? That’s all you’ve got to say? You dragged me out here into the middle of nowhere, threatened me, stripped me naked, spanked me— twice — and practically starved me. And when I finally figure out you’ve been lying to me all along, all you can do is say yes?”
    “Yes, ma’am?”
    She ignored his grin. “Don’t think you can charm your way out of this, mister. You had me pegged right with whoever you were talking to. By the way, whatever happened to ‘there’s no cell service here’? I am royally pissed. I’m going to charge you with kidnapping a private citizen, for one. Then there’s assault. And, and…”
    “Don’t forget fingering your ass last night until you came. I’m sure there’s a statute somewhere to fit that. Sodomy, maybe? No, for that charge I’d have had to use my cock. And by then you were begging me to ram that into your pussy.”
    She spluttered for a moment, enraged. Unable to find words, she resorted to throwing things at him. First, the pillow off the couch. Then she scooped up the wooden cutting board off the floor and lobbed that. He ducked and it went sailing over his head and thunked against the wall.
    “Don’t you dare try to weasel your way out of this! You… you asshole! You had me scared to death.”
    His grin widened. “Yeah, you were so scared you spent three hours outlining the best-seller you were hoping to get out of this whole thing. I read through your notes while you were asleep.”
    “That’s how I cope. When I’m stressed or angry or depressed or worried, I write. It’s better than getting hooked on crystal meth.”
    “Those are your only two choices?”
    “Quit trying to change the subject. You owe me an explanation.” She plunked down in the middle of the couch, gathering the quilt around her, and glared at him.