second, Victoria had a flashback to her thunderous, mind-numbing orgasm last night. It was the best sex she’d had in her life. Before, she’d actually believed earth-shattering orgasms only existed in lesbian fiction. Her body blazed, and she blinked hard to clear her head. No, no, no. The witch is doing it again. For God’s sake, concentrate, Victoria. Distance yourself.
She turned and left the room, returning to the office with this new information. She needed to know what Ginette had or hadn’t been up to. Why the ransom demands were being ignored.
Something was not adding up.
❖
Mickey ruefully watched Victoria leave. Oh my God, what a monster! I can’t believe she pulled my hair…that’s…that’s torture.
She’s a bitch, pure and simple. She dropped her head onto the pillow. She was flummoxed and worried. This whole crappy, out-of-control escapade had just taken a turn for the absolute worst.
How could she rein it back in and turn her luck around? What were her actual chances of survival?
Mickey spent the rest of the morning blindfolded and tied to the bed, listening to a perpetual loop of Swiss cowbells that Victoria had especially downloaded for her.
“It’s esoteric.” She had smiled cheerfully. “You can meditate.”
Drained of all hope, Mickey lay wondering at the type of mind that could so casually conjure up such torment. Victoria Gresham was a grade-A little bastard if ever there was one. A monstrous aberration of Frankensteinian proportions! Despite her musings, she couldn’t stop the smile at the memory of last night.
Mickey found it hard to equate the small woman passionately trembling in her arms with the little bitch so casually torturing her now.
Mickey knew that last night the tables had been turned on her long before she was clubbed with a replica gun. She’d ambushed herself with the unexpected emotions she’d felt for her prisoner. No matter where she stood, as captor or captive, she couldn’t escape her growing attraction for Victoria. The true torture was that Victoria would never see her as anything more than an opportunistic thief.
Sighing heavily through the thirtieth rendition of melodious cowbells, she finally admitted she had been sucker punched. A full roundhouse to the head and the heart. She was seriously attracted to her tormentor. She had dropped her guard, lost her senses, momentarily set aside her plan, and was paying dearly for it now. Victoria Gresham was a witch, an evil, spellbinding sorceress, and Mickey was as witless as a newt around her. The nature of her need alarmed her, dulling her senses and fuzzing her brain. But the real question was how smart would she be when the opportunity came to run? Because it would come and come soon.The ringing of cowbells was mercifully and abruptly cut off and the blindfold was whipped away. Mickey looked blearily up into Victoria’s alarmed face.
“She took it all!” Victoria blurted, eyes wild with disbelief.
“What?”
“She cleared the account. Accounts.”
“What?”
“Ginette has cleared all the money out of my bank accounts.”
“What?”
“Oh, for God’s sake, any more watts and you’d be a lightbulb.” Victoria flumped heavily down onto the mattress so that Mickey bounced slightly.
“You’re telling me she cleared all the money out of your bank accounts when she should have been paying me my ransom ?”
“Ransom? Your ransom? Who’s the one chained to the bed, doofus? You know something? I wouldn’t leave you in charge of a church collection plate, never mind a ransom note. ‘Please, can I have some of your money?’ Was that the best you could do?”
“Well, it’s not like I write them every day,” Mickey shot back. “And I didn’t want to sound threatening because I’m not a threatening person.”
“You drugged me, you maniac. And tied me up in a cellar. And had a gun. And a bomb. You’re telling me that’s not threatening?”
“I did not drug you. And it was a
She turned and left the room, returning to the office with this new information. She needed to know what Ginette had or hadn’t been up to. Why the ransom demands were being ignored.
Something was not adding up.
❖
Mickey ruefully watched Victoria leave. Oh my God, what a monster! I can’t believe she pulled my hair…that’s…that’s torture.
She’s a bitch, pure and simple. She dropped her head onto the pillow. She was flummoxed and worried. This whole crappy, out-of-control escapade had just taken a turn for the absolute worst.
How could she rein it back in and turn her luck around? What were her actual chances of survival?
Mickey spent the rest of the morning blindfolded and tied to the bed, listening to a perpetual loop of Swiss cowbells that Victoria had especially downloaded for her.
“It’s esoteric.” She had smiled cheerfully. “You can meditate.”
Drained of all hope, Mickey lay wondering at the type of mind that could so casually conjure up such torment. Victoria Gresham was a grade-A little bastard if ever there was one. A monstrous aberration of Frankensteinian proportions! Despite her musings, she couldn’t stop the smile at the memory of last night.
Mickey found it hard to equate the small woman passionately trembling in her arms with the little bitch so casually torturing her now.
Mickey knew that last night the tables had been turned on her long before she was clubbed with a replica gun. She’d ambushed herself with the unexpected emotions she’d felt for her prisoner. No matter where she stood, as captor or captive, she couldn’t escape her growing attraction for Victoria. The true torture was that Victoria would never see her as anything more than an opportunistic thief.
Sighing heavily through the thirtieth rendition of melodious cowbells, she finally admitted she had been sucker punched. A full roundhouse to the head and the heart. She was seriously attracted to her tormentor. She had dropped her guard, lost her senses, momentarily set aside her plan, and was paying dearly for it now. Victoria Gresham was a witch, an evil, spellbinding sorceress, and Mickey was as witless as a newt around her. The nature of her need alarmed her, dulling her senses and fuzzing her brain. But the real question was how smart would she be when the opportunity came to run? Because it would come and come soon.The ringing of cowbells was mercifully and abruptly cut off and the blindfold was whipped away. Mickey looked blearily up into Victoria’s alarmed face.
“She took it all!” Victoria blurted, eyes wild with disbelief.
“What?”
“She cleared the account. Accounts.”
“What?”
“Ginette has cleared all the money out of my bank accounts.”
“What?”
“Oh, for God’s sake, any more watts and you’d be a lightbulb.” Victoria flumped heavily down onto the mattress so that Mickey bounced slightly.
“You’re telling me she cleared all the money out of your bank accounts when she should have been paying me my ransom ?”
“Ransom? Your ransom? Who’s the one chained to the bed, doofus? You know something? I wouldn’t leave you in charge of a church collection plate, never mind a ransom note. ‘Please, can I have some of your money?’ Was that the best you could do?”
“Well, it’s not like I write them every day,” Mickey shot back. “And I didn’t want to sound threatening because I’m not a threatening person.”
“You drugged me, you maniac. And tied me up in a cellar. And had a gun. And a bomb. You’re telling me that’s not threatening?”
“I did not drug you. And it was a
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