Page 6 of Shane: His to Possess
Yet he’d found himself returning within two weeks with a different blonde in tow. That one had ended up sucking him off in the car as he’d moaned Mia’s name while coming in her throat. Understandably, she hadn’t been amenable to grace his bed after that. It hadn’t mattered because he had soon lost interest in all women except for Mia.
When had he started following her? Not just having her spied on discreetly with the occasional security reports. No, he had started personally following her, like some obsessed stalker. Shane had known the behavior couldn’t continue, so he had taken steps to ensure Kasilli owed him, and he could freely collect Mia without inciting a war that would tear apart the three families in the city and bring the authorities down hard on their illegal, though lucrative, activities.
It had been a surprisingly easy maneuver to steal Kasilli’s shipment, and he’d even managed not to kill anyone. He assumed Kasilli had dealt harshly with the members of his crew who’d allowed the shipment to go missing, but that was on the Russian, not him. It had been even easier to “rescue” Kasilli by recovering the drugs since they’d been in his warehouse the entire time.
The hardest part had been convincing Kasilli to part with Mia as a way to settle his debt.
“Why?” he asked coldly.
“I have my reasons.” Shane had kept his response cryptic, not about to pour out his soul-destroying obsession for the other man’s daughter. It made him too vulnerable, and it might scare Kasilli away from letting him have her.
“There are certain considerations, O’Mara. She has obligations.”
Shane had firmed his mouth. “Too bad. You have obligations too, Mr. Kasilli. I’m sure we can find another way to settle our debt, if you wish to protect your little girl. Perhaps a cut of your profits?” He had no interest in the money, but he’d seen the greed in Kasilli’s eyes and knew money was the old fool’s weak spot.
After a long hesitation, Kasilli nodded and waved his hand, as though it meant nothing. “Take the girl.”
“Have her come to you.”
Kasilli had lifted a shoulder, again seeming unbothered by handing over his daughter when compared to losing part of his fortune. “Very well. I shall arrange for her to come here, and then you can transport her wherever you intend to hold her.”
Shane remembered feeling nonplussed at the other man’s apathy. He hadn’t seemed to care what Shane’s intentions were toward Mia. Kasilli’s callousness had fallen in with his plans, but he’d still felt a hint of outrage on her behalf.
He tightened his mouth as the phantom emotion haunted him again. He didn’t have to be Dr. Phil to know there was a dysfunctional family vibe there, but it was a good thing for him. It suited his purposes to have Kasilli uninvolved in his daughter’s life. It would make it easier to separate her from her old life and force her to accept her new life more quickly.
She belonged to him, and she would soon acknowledge that.
If not, he would keep her anyway. He couldn’t be without Mia until this paralyzing obsession eased.
* * *
She entered the suite, finding it had a feminine air that suggested Shane didn’t sleep here as well. How nice of him to allow her a private sleeping space where he could keep her out of his sight, except when he wanted to come visit her for a fuck.
Despite her aching feet, Mia methodically searched every inch of the suite, hoping for a weapon. The chairs were solidly built, and she didn’t think she could disassemble them without some kind of tool, which wasn’t available anyway. Slamming them against the wall would bring Bruno, so that was out. Whoever had prepared “her” room must have been told to take anything that could be used as a weapon.
The only scissors she found were a pair meant for cuticles in the vanity table drawer. There was a letter opener on the desk, but she actually laughed out loud when she lifted the flimsy plastic stick. It would slip under a flap and rip through paper but wouldn’t do anything to flesh.
There was a large window, and she seriously considered hurling herself through it until she discovered the wrought iron bars blocking the way. While ornate, they were still designed to keep her imprisoned. A similar set adorned the window in the bathroom.
She rummaged through the bathroom drawers, disgusted to find not even a razor. Unless he liked his women on the Sasquatch side, he was going to have to give her one eventually. Mia shuddered at the thought that he might plan to shave her himself. It was purely disgust that made her shiver, and not a hint of…anything else.
Yes, he was attractive. Okay, sinfully hot, and in other circumstances, she might have been flattered by his attention. His kidnapping had thwarted that, and she refused to be so shallow that she would let herself be distracted by his looks when contemplating his actions and what he still planned to do.
At first, she thought the bathroom was as weaponless as the rest of the suite. She sank onto the porcelain toilet in defeat, trying to brace herself for the possibility she was going to be taken tonight. Her gaze darted around the room before returning to the implement rack by the sink. A hairdryer and curling iron rested there. The hairdryer wouldn’t offer much help, but a hot metal rod had possibilities.
It was a weak weapon, but it was better than nothing. Mia got to her feet and took the rod from the shelf to switch it on. It was a brand she recognized and remembered was fast-heating. It seemed to take forever for the indicator light to turn from red to green despite its speed claims.
Mia left it on even after it had turned green, not sure when he would come for her. She wanted the curling iron to be as hot as possible. She also wanted to be able to maneuver, so she dared slip from the bathroom long enough to kick off her shoes. Biting her lip, she cast a glance at the closed French doors before going to the nearest dresser. A myriad of feminine clothes filled the drawers, but they were all impractical and lacy, frilly things. Apparently, he planned to keep her as his Victoria’s Secret dress-up doll.
She had no time to check the closet when she heard feet in the hallway. Mia ran back to the bathroom and scooped up the curling rod, wrapping the cord around the handle as she hurried back into the bedroom. She stood near the door as he slipped inside, shielding the curling iron with her body as she held it at an angle to avoid burning herself. Mia waited until he closed the door and started to turn before she moved toward him.
He faced her as she reached him, looking at her with a scowl. “You didn’t prepare yourself.”
Mia didn’t speak. As he reached for her, she thrust the curling iron upward, pressing the barrel against his neck as fully as possible.
His eyes widened and he jerked. Shane’s hand was tight around her neck when he grabbed her, lifting her off her feet with a little shake. The curling iron fell to the floor, and she knew it had been a stupid weapon.
While trying to suck in air through her obstructed windpipe, she also admitted to herself she had known it wouldn’t be effective, but it made a statement. She wasn’t going to surrender easily, no matter what threats or persuasion he used.