Hostage of the Heart

Straight As a Labyrinth (Three)

Desiree stormed out of the bedroom less than ten minutes later. "What did you mean by that?" she demanded of the other woman who now occupied the chair before the computer.

Hurriedly switching the screen to black with the press of a button, she swiveled around to face her captive. She was relieved that she had already swallowed, otherwise she might have choked on her soda at the unexpected sight. Desiree had chosen to wear a simple white T-shirt to sleep in, but in the blonde's opinion, she looked absolutely gorgeous...sexy. Her legs may not have been that long, but they were finely shaped, the hem of the T-shirt reaching mid-thigh.

"Stop looking at me like that!" Desiree realized too late that she should have donned the robe she located in the closet.

"Like what?" The kidnapper inquired, forcing her eyes to focus on the younger woman's face.

"Like I'm a piece of meat, and you're a carnivore who hasn't eaten in weeks."

"Oh, please. Don't flatter yourself." She mentally chastised herself for being so obvious.

Desiree shrugged, deciding it best to let the issue drop. "Whatever. Why did you call me love? Did you mean it as an endearment?"

The blonde took a few seconds to thoughtfully stare before answering, "I didn't mean love as in honey, sugar pie, or boo. It was a capital L, as in your name. Your last name is Love, correct? Full name Desiree Meredith Love?"

Staring back at her, Desiree slowly nodded. "Ah, okay. So, that's what you were up to while you had me handcuffed to the refrigerator. You were going through my purse."

"Nope." The other woman made a sound with her mouth reminiscent of a game show buzzer. "I may have kidnapped--"

"May have?"

Azure eyes rolled. "Okay. I indisputably kidnapped you, but I wouldn't rifle through your personal belongings."

"Oh! Oh, yeah, I get it now! You would sneak into my car, wrap your arm around my throat and press a gun to my head, threatening to blow me away if I didn't comply with your wishes, but you'd draw the line at going through my purse. Yeah, that makes perfect sense." You nut.

Because she didn't have a sensible comeback for that bit of well played sarcasm, the kidnapper just grinned and winked, proving to further annoy Desiree. "Your name is Desiree Meredith Love. You are twenty-three years old, and you were born and raised in San Francisco, until you moved at the age of eighteen to attend UCLA for the next four years. You used to work as a secretary for an office supply company, but unfortunately, you were fired yesterday. You're currently writing a book and yearn to be a novelist, because fiction is where your passion truly lies." Her eyes briefly shifted toward the ceiling while she thought. "You have one younger brother and one older sister, your parents still reside in San Francisco, and you have a cat named Tobias. You know, that latch key kid of yours."

Mouth hanging open, Desiree plopped down on the arm of the couch. Had this woman been following her? For whatever reason, was she obsessed? "How on earth did you know all that?"

"You didn't notice my crystal ball in the kitchen? I'm a psychic."

"Stop toying with me," Desiree retorted in a warning tone.

"Oooh." She pretended to shiver with fear, even briskly rubbing palms up and down her arms. "What are you gonna do to me, shorty?" She watched as her captive cocked her head to the side, one brow raising.

"Shorty?" Desiree repeated. If there was one thing she hated, it was for people to draw attention to her short stature. It was a sensitive topic for the vertically challenged brunette.