Hidden Fire: Fire, Book 2: Red Hot Weekend (4 page)

“Relax, Jenn.” Jackson broke through her thoughts. “We’re not subjecting you to any form of torture. I promise.”

“What are you doing here anyway?” Jenna demanded of Rachel.

“I came to see Jackson,” Rachel said. “Came to help him start packing up for his move to Sydney.”

Jenna shook her head with impatience. “I don’t mean what are you doing in Brisbane. I mean what are you both doing here? With me?”

“Duh!” Rachel held out her hands on either side of her, in the don’t-be-daft gesture she and Jenna always used on each other. “What does it look like we’re doing here? Kidnapping you.”

Jenna stared at the couple, struggling to comprehend their logic. And their actions. “You two have nothing better to do with your time than kidnap me?”

“It was the only way we could get you here,” Jackson informed her. “You’d never have come on your own steam. Besides, it’s not just you.”

Jenna gaped at her brother. Her stomach lurched, the familiarity of their surroundings making her stomach roll. “You’ve kidnapped someone else?”

Jackson winked at his sister.

Was their other victim in the room with them? Was there more than one? She tried to look around Rachel, but Rachel wouldn’t budge.

“It’s time to go,” Rachel told Jackson.

Jackson checked his watch. “Yep.”

Jenna decided she’d misheard. She must have. “Uh…you’re leaving?”

“We thought we’d go see a movie.” Jackson looked at Rachel. “Or maybe dinner?”

“Both.” Rachel smiled at Jackson. “It’ll be a good way to spend a Saturday night.”

Jackson smiled back, that lovesick puppy smile that made Jenna want to barf. “Both,” he agreed.

“Well, isn’t that lovely for you?” Jenna smiled sweetly. “And while you’re watching your little movie, what will I be doing exactly?” Rubbing her wrists raw against the ropes? Bleeding all over the place as a result? Plotting ways to murder her brother and his new girlfriend? Meeting their other hostage perhaps? Hostages?

Hmm, maybe together they could all plot the murders.

“That’s up to you,” Rachel said.

Ah. Finally some common sense. “Good. Then untie me, so I can go home.”

Jackson frowned. “I think she misunderstood you, Rach.”

“No worries.” Rachel gave him another blinding smile. “I’ll clarify.”

“Clarify what?” Jenna asked from between gritted teeth, not so in the mood to be sweet anymore.

“Well, Jenn, you have a choice. You can sit here quietly and not say anything. Or you can speak openly for the first time in years, and clear up the situation in which you now find yourself. It’s your call, really.”

Jenna’s spine stiffened. Apprehension filled her belly. “My call? Really?” She let the sweetness drip back into her voice. It was either that, or lose her cool and composure completely, and threaten to call the police and lay formal charges.

Since she had no access to a phone, no access to anything for that matter—not with her freaking hands tied behind her back anyway—and the police would think her a loon for laying charges against her twin brother and her best friend, the latter wasn’t even a possibility.

Besides, losing her cool wasn’t an option. If she lost her grip on her carefully contained emotions, she’d fall apart. There’d be no way she could hold it together and present herself as functional when her entire world had unraveled, and any joy she’d found had darkened to impenetrable blackness.

Perhaps that’s why she’d let Rachel kidnap her. The unexpected abduction had come at a time when her weekend was spiraling quickly into a black hole of depression.

Jenna took a deep breath. “And if I choose to speak…openly, whom will I speak to exactly? Er, you guys will be at a movie. Remember?”

Rachel shot her. Square in the chest. Twice. Leaving her shirt sopping wet.

“Wh-what was that for?” Jenna spluttered.

“Asking stupid questions. Who do you think you’ll talk to?”

Jenna floundered, unsure what to say next. She glanced at Jackson, silently begging her twin for help. Jackson always helped her. Always looked out for her. It was a role he’d adopted twelve years ago.

He read her plea easily. The way he nodded told her as much. Not that it made any difference. He simply smiled and looked over his shoulder at something behind him.

Another muffled curse filled the air.

Ah ha! So, they weren’t alone. The other victim—victims?—were there as well.

Then Jackson stepped aside, as did Rachel, giving Jenna an unobstructed view of the room around her for the first time.

And what she saw whipped the oxygen from her lungs.

The panic that had eluded her throughout the entire idiotic kidnapping now struck with full force, slamming the breath from Jenna’s body, making her dizzy.

No. No, no, no.

Not ready for this.

Can’t face this now. Can’t face it ever.

Her mind scrambled to comprehend the vision before her. At least now she knew for sure where she was. Or maybe she’d known all along and just forced herself not to accept it.

Jenna sat in her brother’s house, in the one room she’d always given a wide berth.

“Rach and I have had enough of the two of you moping around like the world is ending,” Jackson informed her. “We’re tired of it. You’re both acting like bloody idiots. It’s time to get over it. Consider this your opportunity to sort out your differences.”

Perspiration beaded between Jenna’s shoulder blades. Her heart jackhammered against her ribs. Her gaze was pinned on the chair that had been strategically placed opposite her, about two meters away.

“We’re giving you both a helping hand,” Rachel interjected. “Use it wisely.”

She turned to face the very chair Jenna gaped at. “I’ll be as gentle as I can,” Rachel promised, and a soft, fast tearing sound filled the air, followed by a gruff, muttered, “God damn it.”

The very sound of the words sent shivers up Jenna’s spine.

“Sorry,” Rachel said. “But I couldn’t leave the tape there. The two of you have too much to talk about.”

Jackson took Rachel’s hand. He looked from Jenna to the person seated on the other chair and back to Jenna again. “You guys have a second chance. Don’t fuck it up.”

And with that, Rachel and Jackson walked out of the room, closing the door behind them. Leaving Jenna staring wordlessly into the face of the most beautiful man in the world.

He sat there, dressed in nothing but a pair of snug-fitting, black cotton boxers, the rest of his golden-skinned body—from his silky brown hair and sculpted face, to his exquisite, broad shoulders and ripped chest, down to his endless, muscular legs—exposed to her view.

With a million other thoughts going through her mind, Jenna had to wonder how on earth Garreth had managed to get himself roped up and tied to a chair—in his very own bedroom.

Chapter Three

“Don’t look at me like that. This wasn’t my idea.” Garreth flexed and relaxed his lips, trying to get the blood to flow back into them. Jackson may not have meant to put the tape on quite so tight, but Garreth’s lips were tingling now.

Or maybe the tingling had nothing to do with the damn tape. Maybe it had to do with the woman sitting opposite him, glaring. Seeing her made him tingle all over. It always had. One look at Jenna two years ago—when she’d brought over a huge fruit basket to welcome Jackson’s new housemate into the house—and that tingle had begun in his spine and worked it’s way over every nerve ending in his body.

He’d known then she was the one. No question. No doubt. She’d been born to be his. Her warm conversation and shy smile had only reinforced the knowledge.

Pity no one had ever written that in the
Fated To Be Together Handbook
. It would have made his pursuit of her a whole damn lot easier.

“I was kidnapped,” she snapped, blue eyes blazing. “At gunpoint.”

Garreth nodded. “I heard. If it makes you feel better, I was attacked from behind not two minutes after I got out of the shower, had a sack shoved over my head, and made to sit here for the last hour. My butt’s gone numb.”

She sniffed. “It doesn’t make me feel better.”

“Doesn’t make me feel any better either,” he agreed. “My left cheek fell asleep about thirty minutes ago and still hasn’t woken up.”

Her lips twitched. He saw it, but a second later her face was straight and she’d fixed her gaze accusingly on him again.

She sat up tall in her chair—well, as tall as her ropes would allow—pushed back her shoulders, which sent her breast jutting out, and continued to glare at him.

At least Garreth assumed she continued to glare. His gaze had snagged on her chest. On the small, round globes that peaked at him from beneath her white, button-up blouse. Her wet, white blouse that hinted at the pink nipples beneath.

No bra.

Definitely no bra.

Rachel had shot her there, on purpose. He had no doubt. She’d done it to tempt him. And tempt him she had. He couldn’t tear his gaze away. Didn’t want to. Not after the last week of hell.

Seeing her all tied up made his heart beat fast and furious, demanding he touch her, hold her. Make her his. Once and for all. He could take her, just like that, bound to the chair, so she was powerless to refuse him.

The idea made him hard as a freaking pole.

Impossible idea, with his own hands bound behind his back and his ass strapped to the seat.

“You know I hate you, don’t you?” she asked, very slowly and very clearly.

He dragged his gaze back to her face, looked into the eyes he longed to see brimming over with lust and desire for him again. The way she’d looked at him in the mountains, her eyes glazed with hunger… Christ, he’d dreamed about it every fucking night since.

Garreth shook his head, negating her words, seeing them for the lie they both knew they were. “You don’t hate me, Jenn. You hate that you
can’t
hate me, no matter what I did or what happened between us.”

Her eyes glittered. Not with hatred though. For all Jenna’s bluster, hatred was not something she felt for Garreth. The glitter reflected her struggle to maintain control. Her struggle not to give away one tiny glimpse of real emotion. She’d fight tooth and nail to hide her feelings, because that was Jenna. Hide it. Control it. Do not, under any circumstances, ever, confront it.

He’d seen it a million times. Discuss current affairs or her love of running and romantic movies and she couldn’t stop talking. Bring up anything to do with Jenna’s trauma during high school, or the repercussions of it—including his and her feelings for each other—and she clammed up tight.

“Nothing happened between us.” She gave a nonchalant shrug.

Garreth couldn’t repress the smile that tugged on his lips. An arrogant, I-know-better smile. “Nothing, hmm?”

Jenna stiffened and looked over his shoulder, refusing to meet his gaze. Fine with him. He could stare at her breasts again. Fantasize. Wish.

And he could challenge her. In fact, he relished the idea. “So by nothing, you mean you never threw yourself at me? Never stripped naked in my arms and demanded I make love to you?” The memory tied his balls in knots. Jenna, naked and shivering in his arms. Naked and pleading with him, to take her, finally. Make her his.

If he hadn’t relived that moment a thousand fucking times…

Jenna flushed scarlet. The color seeped into her face, crept down her neck and stained her chest. The memory might embarrass her, but that wasn’t where it stopped. No, it had the same effect on her it had on him. She squirmed in her chair. The nipples he could not tear his gaze away from pebbled, prodding at her shirt, pointing to him, calling him.

He swallowed harshly, grit his teeth, desperate to take those nipples in his mouth, lave them, suck on them. Feast on them. Feast on the woman. Every inch of her.

But he couldn’t. He was tied to a fucking chair.

Jenna shrugged. “It was a…mistake. A glitch. Hasn’t happened before, won’t happen again.”

Ever in control, wasn’t she?

Right then he hated her rigid exterior. Wanted to smash it to smithereens. Wanted to expose the woman beneath the veneer, prove to her the
incident
wasn’t the glitch, her control was.

Jenna was a passionate woman, born to shine. Born to follow her heart and her emotions and live wild and free. Garreth knew it. Sensed it every time he was near her. Jenna gave everything of herself to whatever she did. An early morning run? She left Garreth in her dust. A charity event? She organized the entire affair. A sad movie? Her sobs were enough to break his heart. A homeless dog? Jenna knew a whole network of foster homes. As for her laughter, it was the happiest, most carefree sound he’d ever heard.

But try and get close, try and see into the real Jenna, find out about her innermost emotions and thoughts, offer her your love, and she threw up a wall, so hard and so high, Garreth rebounded off it every damn time.

He understood. She’d been cut down in her prime. Forced into a shell. Forced to hide behind her steely control. Her control was her defense, and she wasn’t letting it go. Not for anything.