Page 3 of Daddy’s Hunted Bride

That gives me pause, enough to have me going still so I can glare at my captor.

My really hot fucking captor.

Dark-brown eyes sparkle with amusement, and though his face is mostly obscured by a thick beard, he has a rugged mountain-man look about him that any author would be falling all over herself to put on a cover.

It takes a moment for my brain to catch back up with the fact that we’re supposed to be fighting this asshole, not fawning all over him like some schoolgirl with a crush.

“I am not a Little girl, you fucking pervert. Let me go, give me back my phone, and I’ll consider not pressing charges against you and your fucked-up family.”

“Such filthy language for such a pretty little thing,” he murmurs, and even beneath his bushy beard I can tell he’s smiling. Not a nice smile, though, the kind that makes me feel like prey that’s been cornered by a predator about to pounce.

Play dead. Isn’t that what they tell you to do when confronted by a bear or whatever? Obviously I can’t actually play dead, but maybe I can convince him I’m not a threat.

“Please, Mister,” I whisper, widening my eyes so the sting forces them to water. “I’m sorry I was trespassing. I–I got lost.”

One dark brow raises nearly to his hairline. “I might buy that if I hadn’t caught you taking that video of my brother.”

Fuck. “I’ll delete it. Or you can delete it. I wasn’t gonna do anything with it, I swear.”

Snorting out a laugh, he shakes his head. “Guess we get to add lying to your list of sins. Come on, little fox.”

Before I can assure him I wasn’t lying—even though I absolutely was—he tosses me over his shoulder as if I weigh nothing.

What the fuck do I do now? Running away didn’t work. Playing along and trying to convince him I wasn’t a threat didn’t work. I’m pretty much out of options and time is running out. Once he gets me up to that house of horrors, god only knows what they’ll do to me.

Marjorie. Get to Marjorie so you can both get the fuck out of here.

Right. Wasn’t that the whole point of me flying all the way out to Colorado in the first place? My boss, author Marjorie Kincaid, went practically radio silent a few months back. We went from talking every day to random, sporadic emails whenever she needs something from me. I’d thought maybe I’d done something to piss her off until I was doing some research and stumbled across an ad about an upcoming book signing at some small independent bookstore in Forbidden Pines, Colorado.

When I’d seen Marjorie in the photo, looking like some porcelain doll someone had dressed up and put on display, I knew something was wrong. What I saw through the window a few minutes ago was just confirmation.

Okay. So that’s the new plan. Play along, let him drag me up to his family’s oversized glass prison, find my friend.

And then run for our fucking lives.

CHAPTER 2

DANE

I’ll admit I’m a bit disappointed by how easily she gave in. I really was expecting more of a fight from my little fox.

Maybe it’s just the shock of having been caught. Perhaps once she’s had some time to recover she’ll run again.

I really want her to run again.

Whatever the reason, she hangs limp in my grasp the whole way back up to the house. Throwing open the front door, I head for the living room where most of my family is gathered.

“Who wants to throw a wedding?”

“A what?” The previously silent bundle hanging over my shoulder comes alive, her voice rising to a screech as she struggles against my hold. “Put me down, you fucking psycho!”

Reaching up, I swat her upturned ass and wink at my wide-eyed family. “As proposals go, I suppose that one could use some work. But that’s no excuse to swear at your Daddy, little girl.”

“You are not my Daddy, you’re just some crazy-ass lumberjack who kidnapped me!”

Before I can chastise my little fox again, Josie pops up from her seat, her eyes narrowed. “Wait. I know that voice. Vanessa?”

Vanessa. What a cute name for my little fox.