Polar (Book 1): Polar Night by Julie Flanders Page B

to ignore me.”
    Maria made no response.
    Aleksei clasped his hands together in front of him and cracked his knuckles. “I would think,” he said, “that you wouldn’t be so quick to forget our lesson on manners. Ignoring someone who is talking to you is most certainly bad manners.”
    A shiver went down Maria’s spine and her muscles tensed. The throbbing pain in her face and neck was a constant reminder of her captor’s opinion of her manners. She knew he had no plans to leave her alone. She had to respond.
    “What do you want?” she asked, her voice barely audible.
    “Look at me when I’m talking to you.”
    Maria froze.
    “Sit up and look at me!”
    Maria pushed herself into a sitting position and gently rested her aching head against the wall. She looked across the room at Aleksei and immediately began to shake.
    “Why are you shaking? Are you afraid of me?”
    “Yes.”
    “There’s no need to be.” Aleksei gestured towards the tray he had placed on the floor. “I brought you food, and a pot of coffee. Also some more water.”
    Maria glanced over at the tray of food. “Thank you,” she mumbled.
    “You’re welcome. And, I’m so glad you’re remembering your manners.” He sat down on the floor and bent his knees in front of him. “Aren’t you wondering why I brought you a special tray?”
    “Why did you?”
    “It’s Christmas Eve. I thought you should have something to celebrate that. See, I even brought a red coffee mug and a green plate.” He smiled, as if proud of his thoughtfulness.
    Maria felt tears streaming down her face again. She had forgotten it was Christmas. Forgotten all about the party she was planning for Christmas Eve.
    She wondered what Nate was doing now. And her parents. Had they come to Alaska after she had gone missing? They must be worried sick..
    “You could at least say thank you,” Aleksei said, interrupting her thoughts.
    “I thought I did,” Maria said.
    “Well, Merry Christmas to you.” Aleksei gestured towards the food. “Go ahead, help yourself.”
    Maria slid over to the tray and grabbed a piece of bread. She steadied her hand and poured a small amount of coffee into the large red mug. She sat back against the wall and took a sip, savoring the warm liquid.
    “Is it good?” Aleksei asked.
    “Yes.”
    “Good.”
    He watched her eat and drink, remaining silent until she had finished the chunk of bread and reached for another piece.
    Maria drank the last of her coffee and put down the mug. “So this is how you celebrate Christmas?” she asked. “Locking up women in your house?”
    “Well, kind of,” Aleksei said. “It is a tradition for me. But this is Christmas for you, not for me. My Christmas is different.”
    “What do you mean?”
    “In my home country, Christmas is in January. That’s when the Orthodox Christmas is celebrated.”
    “What’s your home country?”
    “Russia.”
    Maria nodded. So she had been right about the accent.
    “We have a big celebration to bring in each New Year,” Aleksei said. “We give presents on December 31, and celebrate all through the night and the following day. Then, we have the Orthodox Christmas a week later.”
    “Why are you telling me this?”
    “Because you and I are going to celebrate next week. The Russian way.”
    “What??”
    “We’re going to celebrate. We’ll go upstairs and you’ll stay in my home. We’ll have it all to ourselves. And we’ll celebrate the New Year.”
    “And what if I don’t feel like celebrating?”
    “That will be a shame for you.”
    “Why? Because I’ll have to stay down in this room if I don’t?”
    “No. It’s more serious than that.”
    Maria felt a chill run up her spine. “What do you mean?”
    “I’ll explain it to you. See, this is a tradition for me, bringing a woman to my home for the holidays. Since New Year’s is our most important holiday in Russia, it’s important for me to celebrate it with my guest. It’s like having a touch of home.