Threat: Follow up to Stranded but not Alone (Dragoslava Connection) Read online

  Holding the blanket to her, he got her inside the front lobby’s guest lounge. Polizei, Mark, and the cameras huddled around the door.

  “I want the media out of my building now,” he shouted as Mark opened a second glass door to an interview room away from the many eyes peering into the room.

  Shivering, she wouldn’t look at him. A piece of torn cloth was tied around her head, holding her hair trapped over one side of her face.

  Guns drawn, the polizei crowded the doorway.

  Furious, Mikhail lowered himself to his knees cautiously, so as not to upset her. In front of Bethany, he settled his hands on her knees, then touched her shoeless foot. She drew it back under her. He didn’t fight her, he just untied the rope from around her waist and rubbed her flat stomach, ignoring her hand pressing his hand away.

  She sucked in a breath when he touched her skin beneath the silk blouse, but he ran the tips of his fingers around and felt the lines where the rope dug into her skin.

  “Shit!” The feel emblazoned on his fingertips warped his sanity. “Did he touch you Bethany?”

  She cut a look at him full of pain and anger he’d never seen on her face before.

  Unwrapping her wrists, he nodded to the officer. The man slipped on rubber gloves then dropped the ropes and rag inside an evidence bag. Anger flared through him seeing the red rings the rope left on her wrists. “Bethany, who put you in there? What did they do to you?”

  The cold look in her eyes said stay the hell away from her, but she’d lose that plea because she was his regardless of their fight.

  “Ms. Cansler, I’m Detective Munson. Do you need a doctor?”

  Going out of his mind with thought of what happened, Mikhail waited to hear she was okay, blocking the image of not getting to her before a killer drove away with her to kill or worse.

  “No,” she replied with a slight cough. “I just need a minute, if you don’t mind.”

  In the flurry to get her inside, it finally dawned on him she had no boots on. His gaze settled on her legs then down to her bare feet. Shock roared through him. “Where are your shoes?” Mikhail questioned with his heart in his throat dragging his stomach along with it praying she hadn’t been assaulted.

  She swallowed. “Go away, Mikhail…Just go away,” she croaked under wide eyes and an irritation he didn’t understand. Bethany sniffed back her tears. “The man knocked me out and locked me in there because of my relationship with you. I’m not even with you anymore, and I’m still paying for it,” she argued then licked out her tongue over her swollen lips.

  What was she talking about; she was still paying for it? “Who locked you in there, Bethany? Tell me who did this.”

  No eye contact.

  “Can I get some ice?” she asked in a weak voice dabbing a finger over her cracked lip.

  Munson nodded to one of the officers then stepped up and her dark pained stare tore at Mikhail’s heart. The officer left the room. He came back minutes later with a paper cup and crushed ice from the mini drink station on that floor.

  Bethany held a piece of ice to her lips.

  “Ms. Cansler, when you’re ready I need to ask you some questions.”

  Bethany’s lashes fluttered before she looked up. Her voice came out small. “Okay. I’m ready now. I just want to go home.” Her slightly blue lips trembled, and her teeth chattered.

  “Who did this Bethany?” He fought the rage setting his body on fire knowing someone had done something to her, but he didn’t know whom. Bethany would hardly look his way.

  “Detective, can I go upstairs please. I need my ski jacket I packed for the trip. It’s in my office, and I’d rather not look at the media frothing like dogs outside the door.”

  Shit, Mikhail shucked off his suit jacket seeing her shoulders trembling from having been outside, tucking it around her trembling body. He didn’t bother asking if she wanted it, slipping her arms into the sleeves tugging it over her shoulders he tugged her to his face, letting the blanket puddle over her lap. “Who did this to you? Talk to me, Bethany.”

  Tension held her shoulders close to her ears and she wouldn’t look at him.

  “Ms. Cansler once we get you up stairs I need to ask you about how you got in that closet then left the building. Why send Shamochernyi a threat?”

  Bethany jerked her head up. “Threat…I didn’t send a threat to Mikhail,” she forced her words. Huddled into his jacket she let her shoulders drop when Mikhail released her.

  Munson grinned suspiciously. “I never said who it was sent to, Miss. How did you know?” he asked pulling out his notepad.

  She still refused to look at Mikhail. Frustrated, he waited to hear what happened.

  “The man…he had a thick accent. He told me about the investigation going on upstairs. Said you thought I shredded my lingerie and sent it to Mr. Shamochernyi and emailed a threat to his office.”

  “The person at the door…what do you remember about him?”

  Let her catch her breath, Mikhail thought. “Is someone searching for the driver, Detective?”

  SWAT is all the detective said before returning to Bethany. “Is there anything you can remember distinctive about your capture, Ms. Cansler?”

  “Ah—” Rubbing her palm with her thumb, she said, “He, ah—” She sniffed around her words and fresh tears ran down her face. “He—” She eyed the floor nervously.

  “He what, Bethany?” Shifting on the seat to make her look at him, he asked, “Did he hurt you?”

  “He came inside the computer cabinet…ran his hands down my back and through my hair.” She paused, dabbing the cuts at the corners of her mouth from the cloth tied around her head.

  Mikhail got to his feet and shoved a hand through his hair. Hell. Which one of his enemies would chance prison to do this?

  What if he hadn’t followed the muted sound up the stairs and out to the parking lot? What if the person had driven away with her bound in the back of the truck?

  He’d have gone crazy.

  Bethany continued from the sofa, “He told me he’d be back and that’s when I shut down the computer’s mainframe.”

  Munson flipped a page in his notepad then shot her an accusing stare. “How would you know to do that when you work on the investment floor, the seventh floor, Ms. Cansler?” Munson challenged her knowledge of computers.

  “Cross training, detective.” He seethed eyeing her skimpy top. “Where’s your coat Bethany, back in the computer room? I’ll send someone to get it.”

  She held his coat closer under her throat. “I don’t know…in the restroom maybe,” she suggested shakily. “I had a paper shopping bag from Angie’s Boot Shoppe with my hiking and riding boots inside. They’d fixed the heel and waterproofed the hiking boots for the winter games this weekend.”

  “You remember what happened in the restroom,” Munson asked.

  She raised her eyes. “Only that I saw Glenda Bauer, Jennifer from the third floor, and Martha the executive assistant. Oh and the maintenance crew cleaning the stalls. I washed my hands then left out and headed toward the stairs because there were too many people waiting on the elevators.”

  “Did those people see you go down the stairs, Bethany?” Mikhail asked caressing her hands.

  A deep groove formed between Munson’s eyes. “I’ll ask the questions, Shamochernyi,” Munson warned.

  Bethany shivered.

  “Did they, Ms. Cansler?” Munson asked, returning to his notepad.

  “I don’t know,” she answered, wringing her hands before tucking them under her arms.

  “There’s a draft, let’s go up to my office.” Mikhail reached to lift her from the chair and drew back when Bethany angled away from his touch.

  “Mark, can you help me to the stairs. My legs feel a little shaky.”

  Mark shot Mikhail a look.

  What could he do, when she’d been through hell because of him? He wasn’t adding to her stress and stepped back when Mark put his hands under her. It tore at his he
art to see her lean into Mark’s chest, avoiding eye contact with him. They walked out to the elevator. What had this person done to her that she didn’t want him to touch her?

  After the detective interrogated her, he allowed her to use his phone and contact a friend who she was supposed to meet on the way to make other arrangements. The bag with her boots turned up in her office. After getting Bethany to put on his sweater and some socks, she relayed as much as she could to the detective.

  Munson gave Mikhail two options, Bethany could stay in county lockup while they investigated the email threat or Mikhail could take custody of her and keep her with him all week up at his cabin, and they would provide a guard considering someone broke into her condo to steal the lingerie.

  Chapter 4

  Bethany

  She sat in the lobby chair waiting on Mikhail and her things to be returned. Interrogated for an hour, looking at pictures of her condo trashed beyond recognition and not enough soap in the world to get the taste of the keyboard from her mouth, only to now have to sit in a truck with Mikhail for hours. Then to spend the week with him was insane.

  Even though she sat in his sweater, that didn’t make everything between them okay. It kept her warm until the security cleared her car with her luggage inside.

  The need to wash that other man’s touch from her skin had her anxiously sitting there, his cologne still in her nose. The fact it smelled like Mikhail had her second guessing the ride up to the resort together. What if this other guy was waiting for them on the road?

  Mikhail’s too popular; the media snapping her picture through the windows was evident of that. But the more she hid, the more they wanted a picture of the person who was kidnapped.

  Resting her head on her fist, elbow propped on the armrest, she attempted to play back the scene following lunch after leaving the restroom…but nothing other than a headache formed.

  The sound of heavy footsteps brought her head up.

  “Ms. Cansler,” Mark said easing across the marble foyer, his easy voice subtle and calm as if the entire day had been a dream. “Glenda informed me you’re riding up together. It’s getting pretty bad out, and I’m putting her things in my truck.” He held a hand out. “If you give me your keys I’ll move your things into my truck,” Mark Faerber offered, with his car keys dangling in his hand.

  “I appreciate the offer. Plans have changed. Pending the investigation, I have to ride up with Mr. Shamochernyi or sit in county lock up.”

  He nodded pushing his glasses up the bridge on his nose and that one gesture gave his face a rented look. As if, he only lived in the rooms containing sterile features, nothing that would reach his eyes. The muscles for smiles and grins he hadn’t tried to operate and had no plans to open those doors on. His cheeks never rose more than an inch.

  “Well it’ll go well toward clearing your name when you both arrive safely.”

  That was true if she didn’t push him out of the car along the way.

  “Then you can ride with us if you want to go ahead and get on the road.”

  “You don’t mind?”

  He smiled. “I doubt the detective would mind you riding up with us. I was in there for all the questioning. He trusts me.”

  She sighed. “I should wait. I’m not from here; the last thing I want is to go to prison in a foreign country.”

  Mark nodded amicably. “Then talk to him and put the relationship behind you. Excuse me for overstepping, but you’re not like the usual women he dates and…you’re a good person, Ms. Cansler.”

  Wow, change the subject.

  “I wanted to thank you for your help downstairs earlier…I just…well you know what happened between myself and Mr. Shamochernyi.” She smiled without an ounce of humor. “Everyone does.”

  He shrugged. “Not all men appreciate quality when they hold it in their hands.” He adjusted the strap on his shoulder from his laptop bag, and she tried not to let her jaw drop. Was he flirting? “How’s that other issue going…the invitations? Anyone else bothering you?”

  “No. Whatever you said or did stopped it completely. Thank you.”

  He stared a little longer, a lot longer than appropriate actually. Was he thinking of something to say or not to say?

  His wire rimmed glasses caught the glow of the recessed lights in the lobby ceiling. “It’s my job. It’s unfortunate you had to go through that. Those men knew better.” He turned to walk away then pivoted on his heels to face her.

  “I meant to ask, have you thought about the offer from GCT Holdings?”

  “How do you know?”

  “I have a friend who works there and let’s say he let it slip that they’re courting you.”

  Everybody had a friend. It’s all about who you know and what you’ll do to learn what they know that gets you in the door. Fortunately, her skills got her noticed without knowing who was on the other side.

  “I’m happy here, Mark, or I was happy before today. I do not intend to leave Heinemann’s. It’s a great company.”

  “Well, things change and so do people. Keep me informed if you do. I’d hate to see you go, but I could help you get the best package from them if you decide to accept their offer in the future.”

  She hurried a glance out the window then back to him. “It’s coming down pretty fast out there. Glenda should be down soon.”

  As if my magic, Glenda emerged from the elevator waving a hand manically through the air, her blond waves bouncing around her shoulders.

  Bethany said, “I have to ride with Mr. Shamochernyi.” She admitted it more as affirmation to herself that it wasn’t an option than just informing her.

  Glenda hurried toward her, face ashen…toxic.

  “Bethany, I stopped in your office thinking you might be up there, and this was on your desk.” Her fingers trembled as she held the glossy paper in the air by the edge, making Bethany that much more afraid. Glenda folded an arm around her body under her breasts. “Honey, does this mean anything?”

  Biting her lip was the only way to keep from screaming, her blood ran cold as the picture took shape. A magazine cutout…of a kitchen knife. Her legs shook barely holding her up.

  She caught the edge of the reception counter before hitting the floor. Sweat slowly beaded on the nape of her neck, and a chill moved along the muscles of her spine. Mikhail was the only person she’d told about her fear of kitchen knives.

  Gathering her composure, she lied, “No…” Trailing off as the elevator doors opened, her heart shuddered behind her chest seeing him crossing the marbled foyer.

  Mikhail approached lithe and carefree zipping his ski jacket to stand inches from her face. “Ready, Cansler?” The wicked grin poured over her. Suspicion stole her breath.

  Chapter 5

  Mikhail

  Silent tension filled the cabin of the SUV after the investigation and finding Bethany alive, thankfully. What would he have done had they found her otherwise?

  Killed half the country that’s what.

  Didn’t she know that?

  Coming around the large pines, up the mountain road, Mikhail pressed on the accelerator, giving the truck gas to drive to the far corner beside his private cabin surrounded by a large deck.

  He couldn’t let her stay down there alone even with a guard assigned to her; he had to know she was okay. Why would someone kidnap her and leave her scared and alone. Was she ready to talk or were they going to keep fighting?

  Under the thick blanket of snow falling on the windshield around the smooth arc left by the wiper blades, he studied the grounds around the chalet.

  In his personal parking spot between his cabin and the resort chalet, Mikhail waited before shutting down the radio and heat, anything to extend their time together. He was fighting the urge to reach for Bethany’s hand on the seat.

  In his element, although he loved the city, the forest was his refuge. Fresh mountain air, his horses and the rivers quenched his thirst and replenished his drive.

  And his woman
at his side.

  And coming up this week was going to be the time together they needed to fix their relationship.

  The leather seat made a squeaking sound as he shifted around, studying Bethany’s silhouette against the backdrop of the window, her face resting on her fist as she stared out over the river. The tumble of chestnut brown hair spilled around her shoulders down her back drew his hand across the space to play in its length.

  “I always loved your hair,” he commented, letting it slip between his fingers. “The first time I came to your condo and you had it swept up around your head with a scarf I thought you’d cut it off.”

  “Not now, Mikhail.”

  Frustrated he kept talking. “If not now, then when Bethany?”

  “We’re a different Bethany and Mikhail now,” she added dismissively. “Two single people who happen to work for the same company…yours.”

  He tugged off his ski cap, dropping it on the seat between them. “We have to do this now,” he insisted, playing a finger in her hair spilling around her shoulders, curling the soft sweet coconut scented lengths.

  “You’re seriously annoying me,” she chastised.

  His calm broke, and he slapped the steering wheel, the travel cup bouncing in its holder in the console. He sucked in a breath resting his head to his hands before turning to look at Bethany, her big brown eyes wide. “Baby…one of my asswipe enemies kidnapped you from under my nose inside my company and fondled you in a computer cabinet.” Relax, barking at her isn’t helping. “I’m talking so I don’t explode. I’m talking so I don’t grab a rifle and kill every man who was on the detective’s list of suspects. I’m talking about you, Bethany, so I know you’re safe, here with me, and I don’t snap.”

  “Don’t you think I know that? That’s the issue, me being involved with you, not that we’re no longer together.”

  He indulged the need rising within him, being this close, raising his hand to her face. The second his knuckle grazed the tender skin along her throat he was lost. The gentle curve of her chin led to sensual lips he’d tasted, kissed, sucked before but not now. Now he just wanted to be close and protect her, take the scared look off her face.