Captive at Christmas Read Online Free

fireplace and shoved his small black bag into the bedroom.
    Knowing that conversation with the man would be nearly impossible, she pretended as if he weren’t even there. Hannah used a knife along the edge of the cake pans, making sure they didn’t stick while cooling, and then she went into the bedroom. John cursed as he hit his head, jumping up to follow her. She kept her hands visible and knelt down beside the bed with her suitcase on top.
    “What are you doing?”
    Deep breath in and out, in and out. “Unpacking, since I have to stay here. Would you care to watch?”
    His response came in the form of a backside planted on the edge of the bed and his eyes sticking with her wherever she moved. Hannah worked quickly, using just half of the dresser though she knew he wouldn’t be unpacking his bag. When her hands fell on one of her books, she lifted it out to see it was the one she wanted to read first.
    Not saying a word to him, she closed the suitcase and pushed it under the bed. Hannah stood and took her book to the couch where she sat down and opened it up. The clock on the fireplace mantle read five-oh-seven and she wondered what they should do about dinner. Then again, preparing a meal for the man holding her hostage didn’t sound too appealing.

 

     
     
     
     
    With the fire built and roaring, Mac settled himself in the arm chair in the corner. It afforded him the best view of the cabin, of Hannah. He knew there was something about her, something she hid and it kept him on high alert. Each scare tactic he used to try and weed out the truth seemed to have the opposite effect on her.
    Of course he frightened her, but she didn’t react in the way he hoped, simply took whatever he gave and then looked at him with those damned sad eyes.
    Who is she, really?
    Mac pulled out his phone and tapped a few commands into the screen. He typed up an encrypted e-mail to someone he could trust, asking them to dig up whatever information they could on one Miss Hannah Kamille Magnus.
    Strange spelling of the middle name.
    Reminded him of something European.
    And her surname, Magnus, that sounded Scandinavian.
    Those thoughts aside, Mac sent the e-mail and tucked his phone away. Hannah continued reading her book, she only stopped to check on the bread and ice the two cakes. Everything smelled and looked incredible. He wondered if she would be so inclined to share her food, even though he was holding her against her will. Technically, she had no reason to.
    “Are you hungry, John?”
    Her soft voice roused things inside of him that he didn’t think existed any longer. Desire flowed through his veins, heating his body. Sure, he felt awful for deceiving her with his name, but Mac still couldn’t trust her. “I could eat. What’s on the menu?”
    “Well,” Hannah paused, inserting a bookmark and closing her book, “I was just going to gorge myself on cake, but I guess that’s not very nutritious.” Her eyes veered to the mantle, no doubt checking the time. “I could do soup and sandwiches, if you’d like. Not canned soup though, I made some at home and packed it.”
    He detected a flush in her cheeks and forced his mouth into a straight line. A woman who could bake, cook, and embodied his every sexual fantasy? She couldn’t be real.
    Tread carefully , he told himself. “Sure.”
    Hannah stood up slowly and he mirrored her every movement, feeling the hard steel tucked under his sweater at the small of his back. After four and a half hours together, she seemed to be getting used to him shadowing her around. Though it was taking him a lot longer to become accustomed to the constant arousal she caused. It got to the painful stage, but he wouldn’t give her the satisfaction of knowing the affect she had on him.
    Leaning on the island counter, Mac watched her taking things from the fridge. The woman thought of everything, including condiments and seasonings. She placed everything in front of him before going back for