Thanks for your continued support, Rumpole and readers :)
Hope you enjoy this one.
Feedback and voting appreciated.
~I write for pleasure, I post for joy~
******
Ben was sweating so much he worried Rachel's hand might slip from his own.
"What's wrong?" she asked curiously, glancing at his unusually pallid face.
"Nothing," Ben answered, his heartbeat accelerating as they reached their destination. "This is it," he said heavily, and knocked on the dark-oak door.
"But, Ben, what
is
it?" Rachel pried, then finally paid attention to the store they'd paused by. It was charmingly boutique, with nothing displayed in the tinted front windows to show any purpose.
A short, spectacled man promptly opened the door and peered up at Ben's height. "Mr Carter?"
"Yes," Ben confirmed, and ushered Rachel ahead of him as the man stepped back to allow their entry.
"About five minutes to arrange everything. Please wait here."
"Sure," Ben's voice broke, and Rachel giggled at him.
"What is this place?" she asked, carefully extracting her hand from his painfully strong grip and looking around the posh waiting area.
"It's a surprise. Give me a minute, Rae," Ben sounded almost imploring, and Rachel began to feel anxious for him.
But as much as she plied him with questions, Ben stoically refused to answer. When the storeman returned and gestured for them to follow, Ben didn't look at Rachel, but could feel her incredulously watching him.
"Are you feeling sick, or something?" she nervously whispered, as they followed in the man's wake. "This doesn't seem like the kind of surprise that..."
Rachel trailed off as they reached a private room. The man winked at her and discreetly closed the door, leaving them alone.
"Wow!" she gasped.
The room was tastefully filled with roses, but not so many to make the intimate area claustrophobic. There was a table laden with food, a bottle of champagne elegantly balanced on ice, and two freshly poured glasses.
"Oh, Ben!" Rachel gushed. "This is..." Turning to face nothing but air, her eyes widened as she realised Ben had dropped to one knee.
"Oh," she said, shocked.
"I had a great speech planned, and I can't remember a fucking word of it," Ben grimaced. "But I'm sure I can't live without you. I know I love you more than I'll love any woman, and that it's forever." With shaking hands, he pulled a black-velvet case from his pocket and flipped the lid.
Rachel's jaw dropped at the sparkling ring.
"W-Will you marry me?" Ben proposed; his dark eyes unusually desperate. "Please, Rae. Don't make me beg, because I'll go there."
Rachel's stunned face broke into a huge smile, and Ben's heart flipped. Happily nodding, she allowed Ben to slip the diamond across her finger. Back on his feet, Ben paused to admire her flushed face, the adorable yet sexy yellow sun-dress adorning her figure. After twirling her around, Ben tugged her into his embrace.
"Does this mean you love me, after all?" He murmured against her neck, wondering if he pushed his luck.
Rachel laughed tearfully. "Of course, stupid. I'm sorry I never said it before. I love you, Ben!"
"I thought...But you've said it now, that's all that matters," he breathed, pressing a hard kiss to her temple. "Say it again, just in case?"
"Ben?"
Ben's arms were suddenly empty, and he stared in a daze as Rachel took a seat at the table. Dread prickled up his spine.
"Ben? You're not going to join me?" Rachel sipped the champagne, still beaming at him.
"It's fine. It's going to be alright," Ben muttered to himself.
But his feet felt heavier than lead, the terrible feeling persisted, and instead of taking the seat opposite, Ben fell to his knees and urgently pulled Rachel into his arms. Merrily shaking her head against his shoulder, Rachel comfortably wrapped her arms about his neck.
"What's wrong?"
"
Don't go
!" he groaned.
Ben woke from his dream, back to a bleak reality where his entire life had unexpectedly shattered before it really began.
"It's going to be alright," he whispered, but there was nothing in his voice to credit his words.
Then Ben's tired mind recalled his next piece of cheer. He had to go to the station and answer questions about Rachel. Again.
*******
Rachel stirred. Opening her eyes to clouded vision, slowly the blurred shapes began to take sharper form.
"Uhh-" she croaked, trying to clear her throat.
Rustling movement caught her attention, and she peered across the room to a dimly lit corner. Vaguely, she made out the figure of a man watching her.
"B-Ben?" she moaned, gingerly feeling her bruised neck. "What happened? Where are we?"
"Ben isn't here. I'm sorry."
"Huh?" Rachel squinted. "Who are you?"
The voice spoke with an emotionless, matter-of-fact certainty. Like one practiced in delivering bad news with clinical profession. But the setting resembled nothing of a hospital environment.
The room spun, and Rachel briskly sat up as she remembered. "Oh, my God!
You
! You
attacked
me-!"
"Calm down," the man interrupted, casually placing a book onto a side table. "Calm down, Rachel. It is very important that you stay calm."
Rachel took deep breaths, but the panic still simmered. "Why? What do you want?"
"If you become hysterical, I will be forced to subdue you. Neither of us want that."
"What do you want?"
"Ask me something else."
"Are you going to kill me?"
"No."
Not if I can help it.
"
Are you going to hurt me?"
"No."
Maybe.
Rachel tentatively touched her bruised throat, where he'd snuffed her screams during the abduction. Ray's mouth pursed to a thin line as he accepted the silent point she made.
"If you hadn't tried to scream, I wouldn't have choked you. I didn't want to do it," he said frankly. "Do you understand what I mean about panicking?"
Rachel slowly nodded. "If I don't cooperate, you'll hurt me?"
"Incidentally, yes."
"Why won't you tell me why you've done this?"
Ray sighed. "Rachel-"
"But it doesn't make sense!" she softly reasoned. "I know you, but I don't
know
you? And you helped me with Marcus-?"
"Look." Ray stood but paused when Rachel shrank back into the bed, intimidated by his height. His strength, she already knew.
"We've established that I don't want to hurt you," he said curtly. "Just be satisfied with that, ok?"
"W-Why did you kiss me?"
"Are you hungry?" he asked, disregarding her confronting question; a question with an answer he didn't understand.
"I feel sick."
"I don't blame you. Water will help, so drink up. You'll be very hungry soon. You can join me, or I'll come back with food and something for your sore throat."
"Why have you done this?"
Ray sighed impatiently. "Rachel, I didn't bring you here to hurt you."
Unless you count rape.
"Then why am I here?"
"I'll fix dinner," Ray said with finality, turning his back before she could ask more questions.
Ascending the stairs, he deliberately left the steel door ajar, presenting Rachel with a chance to make the first move. Though conscious of his desires, Ray still didn't feel comfortable forcing himself on a vulnerable girl. But if Rachel attacked him, or tried to run, all bets would be off. She would be fair game to his advances. But for now, he would play the courting game.
Rachel nervously drank the glass of water one sip at a time for two reasons -- she was suspicious it was poisoned, and her throat really was sore. Though her mind ran riot with all kinds of horrible ideas of what was in store, she eventually pulled herself together and reviewed the facts.
The man was clearly dangerous and capable of violence. He was also very strong, and twice her size. She had no idea where she was. There was no question that she was in his power.
Fortunately, he didn't express any particular animosity toward her, so this probably wasn't personal. But that didn't really alleviate the seriousness of her circumstances. Raking a hand through her disorderly auburn hair, Rachel looked around.
The room seemed quite welcoming, with a small en suite. There were no windows. The walls were a cheerful pale oak, only offset by the foreboding steel door, which the man had left ajar.
A small bookcase was beside a cosy armchair in one corner of the room, where the man was sitting when she woke up. The bed itself was soft and comfortable. At first guess, it would seem she was a well-kept prisoner. But why?
A discomfited blush crept through her cheeks when she remembered his kiss, his banter, and his promise to treat her better. She remembered the very large erection poking her when she was trapped in his arms. Right now, he seemed all business, but those undeniable facts spelled trouble.
Rachel slowly got out of bed and stretched her sore limbs. Slightly staggering with an unusual physical weakness, she wondered how long she'd been knocked out.
After careful consideration, Rachel decided there was no point cowering in the room, if he didn't mind her wandering about. The mysterious man himself raised enough questions in her mind to create a pounding headache. He was athletic, attractive and clearly charismatic when he chose to be. There was no reason for him to target her. The whole situation was confusing, and there was only one way to get answers.
Blowing out a deep, shaky breath, Rachel gently eased the solid steel door wide and peeked out. As her gaze adjusted to the dark, she made out a wooden staircase.
There was a bright light at the top clearly coming from a kitchen. Warmth, and the sounds of cooking emitted from the doorway. As the scent of food wafted her way, Rachel's stomach rumbled. Quietly reaching the top of the stairs, she hovered anxiously in the doorway and stared at Ray's broad back as he stirred things on a large stovetop.
With a better opportunity to check him out, Rachel noted he had changed out of the black 'kidnapper' attire and was more civilly dressed in a loose black t-shirt and navy jeans. And he was cheerfully whistling.
