Status: Complete
Skull and Dagger
Dinner
Annabelle paced her room like an animal caged. A few minutes ago, she’d heard the door to the room beyond hers close and then the telltale creaking of bed springs that indicated that Frank had settled in for the night. Her pacing increased tenfold.
Somehow, she had to find a way to escape. There was no way she would just sit down and endure her kidnapping like, like… Well, like Elizabeth and Sites and every other normal person that had the commonsense to realize that escape was pretty damn near impossible.
Annabelle halted her agitated pacing and flopped down on the bed, trying to come up with a viable escape plan. Unfortunately, she was running low ideas, and all the good ideas she’d had had failed miserably. One of these days, she assured herself,he’ll grow overconfident and then I’ll make my move… The only difficulty with that plan was that she didn’t have to patience to lull her captor into a false sense of security; hence, he was constantly prepared for her latest attempt.
Annabelle let out a deep sigh and watched the door with eyes narrowed, scowling at him through the wood even though she couldn’t see him. The real problem was that for once she’d met her match. Frank had counteracted all her escape plans with an amused, good-natured grace that just make her blood boil and want to…
She blushed as their morning encounter played back in her mind, the part where he’d tripped her down onto the floor and held her firmly beneath his well-muscled body playing over in her head again and again. She’d never felt a man that closely before – and for good reason since gentlemen just didn’t manhandle ladies in that way – and it had caused a deep, powerful heat to rise up within her…one that had nothing to do with anger.
He’s nothing but a common criminal, she chided herself inwardly. He shouldn’t even merit a second thought…
But the way he perfectly matched her wits, the way his eyebrow rose and his lips quirked into that delicious little smirk, the way his hair had felt, even though she’d been trying to yank at it at the time, and of course the way those beautiful hazel eyes looked so deep into her own, finding her soul bare and exposed to her gaze...
The room began to feel unbearably hot, and she found herself suddenly more uncomfortable and restless than before.
Have to escape, she repeated her mantra over and over again. Then I can turn him over to the authorities and be done with him...
Even as she reasserted this opinion for the umpteenth time, the lock on the door rattled. Unconsciously, her hands moved to straightened her dress and smooth her hair as the door opened.
“You missed a lovely dinner,” Frank said with a cocky smile on his face as he entered the room, a small tray in his hand.
“And how many people did you kill to steal that ‘lovely dinner’?” she retorted coldly.
He chuckled slightly and set her tray down on the desk. “The preacher didn’t mind,” he argued, opening up the lid and letting the scent of warm sausages and potatoes into the room.
Annabelle was practically salivating at the delightful aroma. She ignored her desire – a skill she had become quite accomplished at. “Well, I do,” she insisted, crossing her arms over her chest and sticking her nose up in the air haughtily.
Frank's smile merely widened. This woman never gave up, did she? “Shall I take this back then?” he teased lightly. “Since you’re not hungry an’ all…”
She narrowed her eyes at him. “If you think to starve me into submission…” she said in what she hoped was a low growl.
To Frank's ears, it sounded more like a kitten’s purr. He laughed. “Wouldn’t dream of it, love,” he said in a deep, sensual voice.
Annabelle consciously stilled the fluttering of her heart and fixed him with a calculating scowl. “I’m not your ‘love’,” she said disdainfully, “and I won’t eat your stolen food.”
Somehow, she had to find a way to escape. There was no way she would just sit down and endure her kidnapping like, like… Well, like Elizabeth and Sites and every other normal person that had the commonsense to realize that escape was pretty damn near impossible.
Annabelle halted her agitated pacing and flopped down on the bed, trying to come up with a viable escape plan. Unfortunately, she was running low ideas, and all the good ideas she’d had had failed miserably. One of these days, she assured herself,he’ll grow overconfident and then I’ll make my move… The only difficulty with that plan was that she didn’t have to patience to lull her captor into a false sense of security; hence, he was constantly prepared for her latest attempt.
Annabelle let out a deep sigh and watched the door with eyes narrowed, scowling at him through the wood even though she couldn’t see him. The real problem was that for once she’d met her match. Frank had counteracted all her escape plans with an amused, good-natured grace that just make her blood boil and want to…
She blushed as their morning encounter played back in her mind, the part where he’d tripped her down onto the floor and held her firmly beneath his well-muscled body playing over in her head again and again. She’d never felt a man that closely before – and for good reason since gentlemen just didn’t manhandle ladies in that way – and it had caused a deep, powerful heat to rise up within her…one that had nothing to do with anger.
He’s nothing but a common criminal, she chided herself inwardly. He shouldn’t even merit a second thought…
But the way he perfectly matched her wits, the way his eyebrow rose and his lips quirked into that delicious little smirk, the way his hair had felt, even though she’d been trying to yank at it at the time, and of course the way those beautiful hazel eyes looked so deep into her own, finding her soul bare and exposed to her gaze...
The room began to feel unbearably hot, and she found herself suddenly more uncomfortable and restless than before.
Have to escape, she repeated her mantra over and over again. Then I can turn him over to the authorities and be done with him...
Even as she reasserted this opinion for the umpteenth time, the lock on the door rattled. Unconsciously, her hands moved to straightened her dress and smooth her hair as the door opened.
“You missed a lovely dinner,” Frank said with a cocky smile on his face as he entered the room, a small tray in his hand.
“And how many people did you kill to steal that ‘lovely dinner’?” she retorted coldly.
He chuckled slightly and set her tray down on the desk. “The preacher didn’t mind,” he argued, opening up the lid and letting the scent of warm sausages and potatoes into the room.
Annabelle was practically salivating at the delightful aroma. She ignored her desire – a skill she had become quite accomplished at. “Well, I do,” she insisted, crossing her arms over her chest and sticking her nose up in the air haughtily.
Frank's smile merely widened. This woman never gave up, did she? “Shall I take this back then?” he teased lightly. “Since you’re not hungry an’ all…”
She narrowed her eyes at him. “If you think to starve me into submission…” she said in what she hoped was a low growl.
To Frank's ears, it sounded more like a kitten’s purr. He laughed. “Wouldn’t dream of it, love,” he said in a deep, sensual voice.
Annabelle consciously stilled the fluttering of her heart and fixed him with a calculating scowl. “I’m not your ‘love’,” she said disdainfully, “and I won’t eat your stolen food.”