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with Celia?” My voice came out a bit rough edged from sleep but it was forceful and matter of fact.
    I could feel a trembling start in my hands and I clasped them tightly in front of me and on second thought crossed them over my chest when I saw him looking me over in a too familiar way.

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    “So many questions, that's good. You're in my house and I haven't done anything to Celia, she was gone when I got to her place. As to why you are here, well, that will take a little longer to explain. Why don't you come downstairs with me? My cook has prepared a meal, we could talk about it over dinner. You must be hungry, yes?”
    I thought about it. Did I want to go anywhere with him? Is this the kind of choice Hades gave Persephone after he dragged her to the underworld? What would I gain by refusing to leave the bedroom? Yikes on second thought, I didn't want to stay in a room with a big soft bed with the man who kidnapped me!
    Gage held out his arm for me. I ignored his arm and walked through the doorway
    carefully avoiding touching him. I held my breath as I passed him, worried he would pounce as soon as I got close, but I made it to the door without interference.
    There was no sign of the two men who had been at Celia's place in Portland. Strangely, that made me more worried. I didn't want to be alone with what's-his-name Hawthorne. I didn't trust him.
    The hallway was wider than I would have expected from an obviously older home like this. The hardwood floors were covered with dark rugs and gilt edged frames with shadowed pictures lined the walls.
    The hallway branched out into a vee with a large, marble staircase in the middle. The staircase was wide enough that five people could have comfortably walked it abreast. We walked slowly downstairs, his shoes echoing on the hard floor and my bare feet stinging as they touched the smooth, cold steps. I looked off to the gloom of the second floor, more carpets, doors and shadowy pictures on the walls. The house was gigantic and I had time to wonder if I would see any more of it or if I was going to end up locked in the orange bedroom the rest of the time I was here. I pushed that pessimistic thought away and concentrated on looking for a way out of this mess.
    Gage walked next to me and with a subtle pressure on my arm that made me jump and pull away with fright, he steered me to the right once we reached the bottom of the stairs. He pretended not to notice the way I jumped away from him and I was glad.
    I was hoping for a chance to run, but he was standing so close and he was big and tough looking. I had the feeling that he was waiting for any excuse to tackle me to the ground.
    My heartbeat accelerated at his touch. He was close enough for me to smell his
    aftershave, a light scent of cloves and cedar that was nicer than any of the musky colognes that the men I worked with wore.
    I think, outside of this bizarre situation, I would have thought he was cute. Who was I kidding? Cute didn't cover it. Freakin' beautiful was more like it. But in the flesh he was more striking, more powerful, more everything, like the Norse god, Thor, come down to earth.
    Walking this close to him I could feel a sort of hum, a static electricity that jumped from his body to mine and set my already frazzled nerves on edge.
    He pushed open the heavy doors to a long room with a table set for two. Covered dishes, long ivory candles, platinum edged dinnerware and shiny silverware was set up on the gleaming ebony surface. He pulled a chair out for me and I sat down without saying anything. I wasn't going to thank him for the courtesy of pulling my chair out. The man kidnapped me for goodness sake!
    Gage sat down across from me and proceeded to remove the covers from a half dozen dishes. Poached salmon with beurre blanc sauce, hot enough that I could see steam rising in a WARLOCK’S BRIDE JENNIFER RINEHART 19

    wispy cloud above it. Roasted asparagus, a salad decorated with