Her Secret Service Agent. Stephanie Doyle

nothing!”

      Vaguely, Vivian wondered if the people out in the bedroom could hear them. Mortification started to descend on her. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. She knew how he felt about her. She’d just confirmed it with that kiss.

      “You idiot! Is this why you brought me here? To make some half-assed, immature pass? What? Did Daddy’s little princess think she was entitled to some screwing? I’m not your damn slave, Viv. You’re my freaking work assignment.”

      “I didn’t... I mean... I love you.”

      He slammed his hand hard against the door next to her ear, and she jumped. In the two years they had been together she’d never seen him like this. Joe was her rock, her stability. Joe was the person who made the fear dissipate. Joe took panic attacks away and made her feel like she could do anything she set her mind to.

      He’d been annoyed with her at times, sure, but he never got angry. Never like this.

      “You’re nothing but a stupid kid. What the hell do you know about love?” he asked softly.

      She heard each word. Deep, as if they had penetrated her skin instead of her ears. Somehow her world had just exploded in front of her, and everything she knew to be real was fake.

      She turned, fumbled with the lock and ran out of the bathroom.

      “Vivian!”

      She heard him shout her name, but she didn’t stop. She ran down the steps, pushing everyone out of her way, oblivious to the stares and whispers that followed her. They were always there, like a soundtrack to her life.

      What was the matter with the president’s daughter?

      Did someone upset the princess?

      Then she was out on the sidewalk. Her breaths were shallow and she couldn’t get control over them. She needed to calm down. To focus. But the one person who could help her do that was the last person she wanted to see.

      Then she heard someone coming up behind her, felt a hand reach around and put something over her mouth. She tried to pull away when it all went dark.

      * * *

      JOE WAS GOING to kill her.

      Hopefully, right after he saved her life.

      It was the one thought that kept surfacing once Vivian had regained consciousness in the freezing-cold cabin, blindfolded, naked and tied to a chair.

      No, it would be okay. Joe would come for her. Yes, he was angry with her. Yes, she knew this was her fault for running away from him, but it wouldn’t stop him. Nothing would stop him until he found her.

      She tried to bring his face into focus through the fear. Except the only face she saw was the angry version of him. The one who called her a child and an idiot.

      She needed the other Joe. The one who made her less afraid. She’d suffer anything to have him here right now, kneeling in front of her and telling her to count her breaths.

      Breathe. Just breathe.

      That was what she’d been doing, Vivian remembered now. She ran away from Joe, something she would no doubt receive a severe lecture about. She was never supposed to leave his line of sight at an unsecured event. His definition of a party.

      Only she had to get away from him. She remembered getting to the sidewalk, struggling for some air and then...

      The hand. A hand coming around her face, pressing against her mouth and nose. She hoped she hadn’t simply fainted with fear. That her kidnapper had used some kind of drug. Otherwise, that would result in yet another lecture from Joe.

      He’d been diligent about teaching her self-defense, an hour almost every day. He would be disheartened to know she hadn’t even attempted to fight off her attacker. Hadn’t even reached for her panic button.

      Nothing.

      Yes, The Hand had to have been holding something. Or maybe he knocked her out with a blunt blow to the head. Vivian tried to concentrate on whether she hurt anywhere, but the truth was she couldn’t feel a thing.

      Except the cold and the brush of the ropes across her shins, stomach and breasts, irritating her bare skin.

      She didn’t think she’d been raped while she was unconscious. She was a virgin, so she had to believe if The Hand had raped her, she would be sore between her legs. She wasn’t. However, as it had gotten colder, numbness took over and she couldn’t be certain of anything.

      At least he hadn’t touched her that way since she woke up. How long had it been?

      At least one day. Despite the blindfold, she could tell there was a subtle change in the light in the room. There had to be windows here, letting in the sun. How long she’d been unconscious before that, she had no idea.

      Vivian didn’t know what was worse—when she was alone like she was now, or when he came to her. Shouting passages from the Bible. Calling her wicked names. Beating her, then crying that he was sorry as he told her how much he loved her.

      At least during those moments she was focused. The pain helped to keep the numbness at bay. She also listened for clues in his words, his manner of speech, hoping he might reveal his identity or where he was hiding her.

      She’d seen movies like this. Eventually, he was going to have to call her father. She knew Daddy and the Secret Service would be waiting to take the call. When that happened, her father would demand to speak to her to prove she was still alive. She wanted to be able to give him and Joe, who she was sure would be right next to her father, an indication of where she was.

      So far she’d only been able to determine they were someplace drafty with no central heat. Her kidnapper had a Southern accent and he knew his Bible really well. The Hand had given nothing else away.

      “Vivian! Oh, Vivian! Where are you, slut?”

      Her body shuddered at the sound of his voice. He was back. Somewhere in the house. The panic returned, and she forced herself to take full breaths.

      She could hear the creak of the door opening. Felt that she was no longer alone in the room.

      “There you are. Right where I left you. That’s a good girl. A very good girl.”

      Her heart started beating against her rib cage like it was trying to get out of her body. Although she found herself almost grateful for the adrenaline rush that warmed her a little.

      She attempted again to talk to him. To reason with him.

      “My father,” she said through chattering teeth, “will pay you whatever you ask.”

      The Hand laughed, the sound more grating than his Bible verses.

      “I don’t want your daddy’s money, Sugarplum. I want you. I love you. I want you to be with me. Forever. But I need to purify you first. I need you to come to me like a baby comes to her momma. When I know you’re clean then we can go away together.”

      Moving her would mean a chance at escape. “I...think I’m clean now.”

      She wasn’t at all. She’d peed herself twice since being here.

      Since she couldn’t see beyond the blindfold, she was unprepared for the heavy backhand across her face, followed by a second and a third. Then a solid fist against her left temple made her head spin.

      Although she should have expected it by now. He apparently didn’t like sass.

      You’re losing it, Vivian. Get a grip now!

      It was Joe’s voice in her head. Typical of him to be so harsh with her at a time like this. She would never understand why she had chosen to fall in love with a man as unforgiving as Joe Hunt. Then she actually giggled. Foolish girl. She was a child. What did she know about love?

      “You’re not clean. You’re dirty! Dirty. Evil and dirty. I know because I see it in your eyes and in all those pictures