vial of chloroform.
Feeling the rag in his pocket, his chest constricted. He was a criminal, a goddamn sicko. What in hell was he doing? He knew he was stuck, that if he decided to leave, someone else would come and finish the job. Only they would kill her.
He took a deep breath—he didn’t have a choice.
The dark kitchen encouraged him to peer into the shadowed and uninhabited living room. The smell of toasted marshmallows—or was that vanilla?—wafted through the spic-and-span kitchen from some kind of decorative dish that was plugged in on the counter. His house usually smelled like floor cleaner after his housekeeper left. Other than that, it smelled like his gym bag or whatever food he had recently eaten. He crept across the kitchen and into the living room. He paused, only feet away from her bedroom door.
A giggle erupted.
What the hell?
He skirted the few feet across the room and threw himself behind the couch. Her bedroom door opened. Was someone else here? How in hell had he missed that?
Miss Lana Vanderpoel waltzed out of her bedroom, her cell phone glued to her ear. Jesus Christ. Only a woman would be sitting in her room, drunk and talking on the phone in the dark. He shook his head at the image and breathed a sigh of relief. Had she come out seconds earlier, she would have caught him. Not that he couldn’t take her, but the chances of her screaming would have been high and, at the very least, would have alerted the person on the other end of the phone.
“Oh my God!” Her sudden shriek made him jump and freeze. Had she seen him?
“He didn’t! What did you say?” He relaxed the tense muscles in his neck. Damn, he’d nearly gone into cardiac arrest. From here, he could peer around the side and see straight into the kitchen, and to his left, to her bedroom door. He watched from around the side of the couch in time to see her stretch up onto her tiptoes to pull a glass out of the cupboard. Her legs were sleek and toned, her feet small and bare against the tile floor.
When she turned from the sink, the slight curve of her slim body made his throat tighten. His gaze dragged from the top of her luscious, shiny locks all the way down to her pretty little toes, savoring every inch in between. Her tiny white pajama shorts barely reached the tops of her supple thighs. Her breasts were full and high, the small outline of her nipples visible through the thin white pajama top she wore. He grew warm at the sight of her.
Her dark hair hung in loose waves nearly to her waist, and her skin was smooth, soft, and pale. Her hair was longer and softer in person. She was shorter than she looked in pictures. But then, she wasn’t in her neck-breaking high heels. Even though she wasn’t wearing a hint of makeup, he could see how beautiful she still was. Lana was a knockout. His throat constricted as she paced the kitchen with her back to him. All he could see was her ass. Not that he was complaining. His dick hardened at the image of having her panting beneath him, those delicious legs wrapped around his waist.
His mouth firmed. He shouldn’t be having this reaction to her—didn’t want it. But the sexy little thing in front of him made something unfamiliar twist in his gut. He needed to get this over with.
“My father is going to kill me when he gets back and sees I went out tonight. Damn those paparazzi.” She listened for a minute. “Okay, Gina. Yeah, I’m heading to bed now too. We should get together for lunch this week. Text me. ’Night.” She hung up and dropped the phone on the island counter. He watched, fascinated, as she brought the glass of water up to her delicate, full lips and sipped.
She carried the glass with her back through the living room. The light switched off, and she disappeared into her bedroom. She didn’t close the door. Perfect. The fewer barriers between them the better.
With her parents out of town, this was almost too easy. He waited ten minutes, giving her the chance to drift off. As he waited, his tension grew. He didn’t know whether he was capable of this. She would panic and freak out. Hell, who wouldn’t? Maybe she would be asleep, and he would only have to place the rag over her mouth. God, he prayed it would be that simple.
The urge to sneak out as easily as he’d snuck in weighed on him. But he was her only chance. If he left, she was as good as dead.
He rose from his position and took a deep breath. He pulled his black knit cap over his eyebrows and gave his latex gloves a tug. He moved toward the bedroom. He stopped at the door frame. A sliver of moonlight poured through a slit in the curtains, illuminating the small mound in the center of the bed. He entered the room. Lana made no movement. She was curled on her side, her back to him. The thick carpet cushioned the weight of his feet as he lurked, closer and closer. His eye caught a lone high-heeled shoe, carelessly strewn in his path. He stepped over it, bringing him only a few feet from the edge of her bed. His pulse slowed, and his breath came out in a steady, silent rhythm. His hands hung loosely at his sides, and his eyes stayed trained on the gentle rise and fall of her breathing. He reached the side of her bed and hesitated. Jumping her from behind wasn’t how he had planned it. If he put any weight on the bed, she would easily feel it and wake up. He would have to pounce on her or risk tiptoeing around to the other side of the bed.
The air changed in the room.
She stopped breathing.
She knew he was there.
Adrenaline surged through him. She bolted. He threw himself onto the bed and lunged for her. He snagged her waist with his arm and hauled her back down. She screamed, piercing his eardrums. His free hand clutched roughly over her mouth, choking the scream off almost as soon as it started.
He had to move fast.
“Don’t move!” he whispered fiercely. She was panicked. Her fingernails pinched his skin through the latex glove as she clawed at the hand on her mouth. She tried to scream, her cries pitiful from behind his hand. He wouldn’t be able to knock her out until she calmed down a bit.
“Stay still,” he rasped against her ear. He held her tight against his chest, until her thrashes slowed.
“I’m going to move my hand now, and we’re going to get off the bed. Don’t scream.” She jerked her head in response. He released his death grip on her jaw. He winced at the stiffness in his hand. Her fingers settled over her face to replace his. Shit. He had hurt her.
“I need you to stand up now,” he instructed softly. She nodded again, and with his hand still around her waist they moved off the bed. The material of her shirt was even thinner than it had looked. The smooth, satiny texture of her skin made his fingers tingle through the wispy cotton and latex gloves. Her feet touched the ground first, because of how close she was to the edge. He shifted over, his hand still firm on her waist. With a flutter of movement, her bony elbow clipped him square in the jaw. His teeth slammed together and left a sandy taste in his mouth, stunning him. She tore herself from his grip.
“Help!” Her desperate shriek snapped him to his feet. He threw his full 225 pounds at her and tackled her to the floor. She landed on her back and he on top of her. She kicked and struggled. Her body bucked wildly in an attempt to throw him. Unfortunately for her, he was easily twice her size. She only succeeded at turning him on as her breasts jiggled beneath her shirt. It was hard for him not to notice how soft and lithe she was, how pert her breasts were and how smooth her legs. His jaw worked at the direction his mind was going. This was wrong—all of it.
“Let me go, you sonofabitch!” Her fists flew aimlessly. One after the other connected with his forearms. He caught both of her wrists in one hand and pinned them to her stomach, then lowered himself so he was lying on her chest. A sharp pain seized him in his back as her knee connected with his tailbone.
“You’re making this a hell of a lot harder on yourself,” he muttered. Until he had her fully restrained, he couldn’t chance taking the chloroform out. She’d go even more ballistic. After she landed another blow to his back, he shifted his feet and pinned her legs in place. She was quick, but no match for his mixed martial arts training.
“What do you want?” Her words came out in gasps. Due to his weight on her, she couldn’t get enough air in to yell. He