Borrowing Alex Read online

  Royce had made a point of describing her proclivities to Alex and then had outlined the perks of their non-exclusive relationship, despite Alex’s attempts to change the subject.

  To Alex, the sexual freedom of the couple’s arrangement sounded like trashy reality TV—one of those series where a group of strangers lived together, went clubbing every night, and slept around.

  He’d always had difficulty pairing Nikki’s angelic looks and air of natural innocence with the blonder-than-a-blonde-joke image Royce promoted. However, at the moment, she wasn’t doing much to dispel her reputation.

  He gritted his teeth. “What’s this about?”

  Two sets of female hands grabbed his arms and dragged him to standing.

  “Ugh.” Nikki gasped, clutching his shoulder. “You’re heavy.”

  No duh. He must have seventy pounds on her. “You’re tiny.” She hadn’t answered his question. “What.” He injected steel into his voice. “Is this about?”

  “That’s simple. I’m kidnapping you. Karin, please pass me the duct tape.”

  Alex’s mental light bulb snapped on. Okay, now he got it. The idea was so asinine, it made perfect sense. Barely-standing-five-foot-two and bubble-headed-eyes-of-blue was throwing Royce a bachelor party.

  Forget that the couple had yet to announce a wedding date, Nikki St. James was ditzy enough to throw her fiancé a bachelor party instead of allowing the best man the honors—and then screw up the festivities by abducting Alex for the crazy night ahead instead of kidnapping the groom.

  “Look, I’ve had a rough week,” he said. “I need to take it easy tonight. Tell Royce I can’t make it.”

  “Um...”

  “What’s he talking about?” Karin whispered.

  “Shh,” Nikki murmured. “Alex, you have to come. You’re the cheese.”

  Cheese? “You mean a trap to lure Royce to the party?”

  “Ummm...”

  His right eyelid twitched. “You’re telling me Royce doesn’t know about tonight yet, either?”

  “Uh, nope. But he will soon.” Nikki’s voice rose on a plaintive note Alex recognized from years of helping his two younger sisters deal with bonehead boyfriends. “Please, I need your help. Tonight is an important step for me and Royce. I’ve arranged everything just so.”

  Something in her tone ensnared him. That same aura of innocence that contradicted her reputation as a partier.

  His big-brother instincts took over. What a sucker.

  “Since you put it that way, don’t sweat it. Do what you want to. I’ll play.”

  Her breath whooshed out. “Thank you.”

  The duct tape ripped near his ears. Alex failed to see the purpose of allowing her to tape him when his hands were already tied. However, considering that a second ago he’d promised to cooperate, he remained motionless while she and Karin bound his chest and arms with numerous passes of the thick tape—rendering him as agile as an Egyptian mummy.

  “Can you see through the pillowcase?” Nikki asked.

  He swore. So that was what she’d plunged over his head—an everyday pillowcase, not a hood.

  Joke on him.

  He peered through the black fabric. A petite figure stood in front of him. He nodded. “What’s on your head?” he asked.

  She flipped a sock-shaped... thing out of her eyes. Some kind of mugger’s mask mashed her delicate features.

  Pantyhose? His mouth quirked.

  She ignored his question. “You can see. Darn it. Now you’ll guess where we’re going.”

  “I’ll close my eyes.”

  “I can’t trust you yet. Sorry. You can close them for me now, though.”

  Alex shut his eyes.

  “Good. Please lower your head.”

  He did. And felt her tie a blindfold over the pillowcase. Double darkness.

  “Point me in the direction of the donkey,” he murmured, feeling as disoriented as a nine-year-old subjected to Pin-the-Tail torture.

  “No donkey. Just my van.”

  “You mean that ancient Econoline parked in the alley? Isn’t it turn-of-the-century?”

  “Yes. Thanks for noticing! It’s a ’96.”

  “No kidding.” Alex had wondered who owned the shabby white behemoth. Never in a million years would he have guessed Nikki. Not when daddy-dermatologist with the patented miracle wrinkle cream bought his little princess anything she desired.

  Or so Royce had mentioned.

  “Karin, his keys and laptop case,” Princess Nikki directed her friend. “Slip the keys inside your—”

  “Don’t say it,” Karin whispered.

  “Oh, right. Gotcha.”

  Both women stepped several feet away. “Yes, that’s perfect.” Nikki’s quiet voice carried on the afternoon breeze. “That. And that.”

  Alex cocked an ear. “What and what?”

  “Nothing for you to worry about,” she called.

  He’d still like to know!

  The women returned. “We’ll take your case with us,” Nikki said. “I don’t want someone happening along and thinking there’d been a struggle here or anything.”

  He snorted. “Even though there was?”

  The women escorted him to the alley, Nikki gripping one arm and Karin the other. When they stopped, he did. Nikki released his arm, and the rear van doors clacked open. Something scuffled inside the van.

  “Fellas, this is the guy I told you about,” Nikki said. “Everyone stay quiet and make room. Bernie, that means you.”

  The partier named Bernie whined as the women hoisted Alex into the van. Had Nikki gagged the guy? How many of Royce’s friends had these nutty chicks grabbed for tonight’s party, anyway?

  Alex couldn’t tell, but a second fellow—a hulk of a man squatting beside him—lacked good oral hygiene. The oaf needed to brush his teeth. Badly. Like with a thermos brush.

  “Lie down,” Nikki ordered.

  Assisted by Karin, Alex obeyed. He didn’t have a choice, really. Nikki’s melodic voice was impossible to resist.

  His legs protruded out of the van. As he sensed her leaning over him, his skin buzzed. She untied his wrists and pulled off the rope.

  “Thanks.” Only the tape binding his arms remained. “Have you taped all of us?”

  “No.” Rrrriiiip. “Just you.” She pushed up the legs of his pants and mummy-wrapped his ankles.

  “Come on, Nikki, you don’t have to do that. I promised I’d cooperate.” He wriggled on the rough van carpeting.

  “I’m not taking any chances.” She rubbed the duct tape, sealing it.

  Bernie whined again—then barked. A high-pitched, yappy, toy-breed sound.

  “Bernie,” Nikki scolded. “Shh.”

  “Bernie’s a dog?”

  She didn’t refute the obvious. Her footsteps scuffed back, and she whispered something indecipherable to Karin.

  A sharp meow carried from above Alex’s head. His jaw hardened. “Let me guess. That’s a cat.”

  “His name’s Rusty.” Nikki leaned over him again. She bent his legs, then closed one of two back doors he’d noticed on the vehicle the other day. “Don’t worry, Rusty won’t scratch you. He’s in his cat carrier.”

  “That’s a relief.” What kind of lunatic took animals to a bachelor party?

  Halitosis Hal loomed over the pillowcase, practicing his heavy breathing.

  Plip.

  Make that heavy drooling. Agh!

  “You don’t have a sheep in here, do you?”

  “No,” Nikki answered. “Why would I?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe Royce likes that sort of thing.” Don’t go there. “Never mind.” Alex inched away from hairy, hulking Hal—whoever, whatever Hal’s mammalian orientation. “Listen, Nikki, I need some reassurance here. I realize tonight is for Royce and all that, but I’m getting some weird vibes. Couldn’t you at least let me know where you’re holding this bachelor party?”

  For a moment, she didn’t respond.

  Then, “Who said
anything about a bachelor party?”

  The second rear van door slammed shut.

  Chapter 2

  The Get-Away

  HANDS SHAKING, NIKKI jammed a key into the rear double-door lock. Her heart had commandeered permanent residence in her throat, the pounding in her ears so loud she feared her conscience would go deaf. That was, if it hadn’t fainted dead away by now.

  “What? No bachelor party?” Alex’s muffled voice carried through the closed van doors. “Why the hell did you tape me up?”

  She locked him in. Practically wheezing from the strain of breathing through nylon, she peeled off the mask and gulped in fresh air. Her hair sprang free of the nylon, her follicles screaming abuse. Behind her, Karin cursed.

  “Nikki!” Alex yelled. “Answer me, or I’ll kick through these doors!”

  Loud thumps indicated that the supposedly mild-mannered history professor meant business. Bernie’s yapping echoed inside the van she’d inherited from her grandfather, and Rusty yowled as if auditioning for an opera. Only Santos, dependable Santos, possessed the presence of instinct to remain mum.

  Nikki banged the doors. “Quiet in there! Please! Alex, just stay calm.”

  “Calm? Calm? How do you expect me to stay calm when you have me trussed like a turkey for your latest trip down Loony Lane?”

  Loony? Did he think she was unbalanced? “Alex, I promise I won’t hurt you. If you give me a minute to finish up, I’ll explain my plan.”

  But she wouldn’t give him the option to un-volunteer. Despite this afternoon’s evidence to the contrary, she hated deception and pretense. She’d done enough pretending in her life, enough waiting patiently, enough striving to please others to gain their love. Particularly with her own family.

  She had to think about her needs for once. About how Alex could help her jumpstart her inattentive fiancé.

  His feet thumped against the doors, and the old van rocked. Crap.

  Nikki turned to Karin. Her cousin had de-masked, as well, and Karin’s hair winged around her head in fly-away strands. She looked like a poster child for victims of pantyhose static.

  How fruitcakey. No wonder Alex seemed kinda anxious.

  “He’s not as cooperative as I’d hoped. We’d better leave.” Nikki handed Karin her mask in exchange for the rope. “Keep the gun. I don’t need it anymore.”

  Karin stared at the toy laser. “What should I do with it?”

  “Give it to a kid in your apartment building, save it for next Halloween, bash Royce over the head with it if he’s too dense to figure out where Alex and I have gone.”

  Karin shifted her feet. “Yeah, Nikki, what if Royce doesn’t figure it out?”

  “Then that’s where you come in. If Royce can’t read between the lines of my note—” in which case, their relationship was in deeper hoo-hoo than she’d feared “—it’s up to you to point him in the right direction.”

  “God, I don’t know, Nik.”

  “I do.” A lump swelled in her throat. She swallowed. “If Royce is worried about me, he’ll call or text. When he realizes I’m not answering, he’ll contact you.” For the purposes of this weekend, she’d left her cheapo cell phone at home. Let Royce fight for their relationship for once. Knowing him, he’d appreciate the challenge. “Karin, you and I are best friends. Royce might assume we talked about a hookup. The poor guy will need reassurance that I still want him. You know, if he... if he still wants me. If he wants me, he’ll come get me.” She refused to consider what she would do if Royce didn’t come after her. He would, and that was that.

  Karin’s lips pressed together. “Should I log onto your web account and change your relationship status?”

  “No! My sister would freak.” Pretty sad when social networking was her major link to Gillian. “Worse, she’d grab the opportunity to blab my problems to our parents. I don’t want to kill my relationship with Royce. I want to save it.”

  Karin nodded. “Understood.”

  Nikki hugged her cousin. “Thank you, Kare. I love you.”

  “Love you, too.”

  Behind them, Alex’s thuds and muffled protests grew louder. The van rocked and squeaked like a bed getting broken in by honeymooners. Rusty wailed, and Bernie yowled.

  Nikki sighed. “I have to leave before he ruins my suspension. Do you have enough cab fare?”

  “Yes. Good luck, Nik. I hope you get what you want out of all this.”

  “So do I.” Nikki squeezed her cousin one last time, then strode to the driver’s door and lifted the handle. Her heart beat an erratic rhythm.

  Here goes something.

  Blind as a bat but lacking the compensating radar, Alex struggled against the duct tape binding him. A front van door opened and closed. The engine sputtered before roaring to life, and the van careened down the alley.

  The yappy mutt named Bernie yanked on Alex’s pants leg while the cat howled a horrifying nails-scratching-brick-walls sound. Hairy Hal took the van’s Indy start as a sign to cease slobbering on the pillowcase. With a thump, Hal collapsed nearby.

  “Nikki!” Alex’s gut churned as the van screeched to a halt, swerved right, then peeled out of the alley. “Hey! Slow down! There are kids in this neighborhood!”

  “Sorry!”

  His abductor reduced speed. Responds well to orders, does she?

  Hadn’t Royce once mentioned how much Nikki loved it when a man took charge?

  Whatever works.

  “Nikki, stop this van! You stop this van right now.” Alex adopted the same firm tone his father had used when disciplining him and his sisters on the farm.

  “No can do.”

  So much for what Royce had said. “Why the hell not?”

  “I already told you.”

  Alex pressed the rewind button in his over-stressed mind. “You’re kidnapping me. For a bachelor party.”

  Correction, Hart. No bachelor party.

  A hollow sickness twisted in his chest.

  “You’re kidnapping me? Federal felony kidnapping?”

  “No! Oh my God! Not seriously kidnapping. More like seriously borrowing. Alex, I need your help.”

  He chopped out a laugh. “You could have asked.”

  “I am asking. This is me... this is me asking.” Her voice thickened with the threat of tears. As an experienced older brother, Alex recognized the signs.

  “Karin, can’t you talk some sense into her?” he petitioned her friend. “You don’t want to be an accomplice.”

  “You’re wasting your breath. Karin’s not here.”

  “She isn’t?” Right, he hadn’t heard the clicking of the passenger door opening and closing before they’d torn out of the alley.

  “Nope. I sent her home. And I’ll never admit she helped me.”

  Great. A quick recap: he was hooded and duct-taped in the back of a speeding van with a party girl in mid-crisis at the wheel, a growling dog yanking his pants leg, Rusty the Yowling Wonder Cat, and Halitosis Hal breathing all over him.

  As Friday afternoons went, Alex had rarely experienced worse. And it looked like Friday night was gearing up to be one frantic ride.

  Forget beer and pizza. Yeah, he’d wanted downtime, but downtime he controlled, not this wacky blonde.

  He had lists to write, research to do. The university’s history library called his name. He really should heed that call.

  But first he needed to stop this Nikki Express and jump off.

  “Alex, please try to understand.” Her voice lifted above the cat’s meows. “I need to get Royce’s attention. I need him to worry about me. And how I feel about him. So he’ll come after me.”

  “Come after you? I’m the one being kidnapped.” Grunting, Alex stretched down his bound arms while straining his bent legs up behind his thighs. His ribs ached from when he’d stumbled against the doorjamb. He skipped his fingers over the duct tape in search of a loose flap. His hand bonked Bernie’s head. Shit.

  The dog yelped, releasing his pants leg. Tiny paws scrambled
up, over, and around Alex’s feet. Frenzied yipping filled the van.

  “Alex! I can see you in the rearview mirror!”

  Damn it.

  The van slowed. “I untied your wrists for comfort,” Nikki warned. “Don’t make me regret doing so.”

  “Or what? You’ll sic hairy Hal on me?”

  “Who?” A pause elapsed. “Oh. His name’s not Hal, it’s Sant—” Bernie’s yipping swallowed her soft voice.

  “Santa?”

  “Santos,” she corrected. “Although, that’s pretty quick thinking on your part, Alex. He did come to me at Christmas, and he does kind of remind me of a big, jolly Santa Claus. That’s why I named him Santos.”

  “Wonderful.”

  “I’m glad you agree. Now, please be quiet and lie still. I need to watch the traffic.”

  She really did have a screw loose. As did the hyperactive Bernie. The little dog raced up Alex’s chest, then jumped off to tug the pillowcase. Alex angled his head, but the growling mutt tugged harder.

  “Stop that, you mangy—” The blindfold loosened on the pillowcase, and Alex stiffened. Hmm. Rolling onto his side, he wrenched his chin forward.

  Bernie yanked, and Alex wrenched again. The blindfold slackened, slithering down the pillowcase. Again, Bernie tugged, and the pillowcase inched up Alex’s face. His pulse raced.

  He lifted his head off the carpet. Bernie growled and tugged.

  That’s it, Yapper. Come on, boy. Keep going.

  The dog pulled and yanked until the pillowcase rode Alex’s nose. Air blasted his nostrils. Yes!

  Yipping, Bernie abandoned the pillowcase. Tiny feet scampered to approximately level with Alex’s chin. Fabric swooshed on carpet, but the pillowcase—apparently no longer a challenge—stayed put.

  Think you’ve bested me, mutt?

  Alex scrunched his nose, jerked his chin, and thrust back his head.

  Scrunch, jerk, thrust. Scrunch, jerk, thrust again.

  The pillowcase now roosted on his eyebrows. Good enough.