Captive at Christmas

By Danielle Taylor

When her life seems to be falling into pieces, Hannah Magnus decides to spend Christmas away from her Vancouver home. She crosses the border into Washington State and locates the idyllic cabin that will serve as her home for the next two weeks.

Mackenzie Dunlop is a man of action and reaction. A creation of his past and his pro

• Language: English
• Publisher: Writend Publishing
• Release date: Jul 21, 2020
• ISBN: 9781785201387

Book preview

Captive Hearts Series: Book I

Captive at Christmas

By

Danielle Taylor

Table of Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Epilogue

Captive at Christmas

Copyright © 2013 Danielle Taylor and Titan Inkorp

All Rights Reserved.

Cover art:

Design: M. Bezuidenhout

No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without permission in writing from the owner. Excerpts for reviews – only when stated as such and quoted – are an exception.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales, are entirely coincidental.

Dedication:

There are many people I would like to thank, for believing in me, and guiding me along this journey to a dream. First and foremost, I would like to thank my husband, for being my rock, the one man I can always count on. I love you, so much more than those three little words can ever hope to express.

Second, my author friends; CS Janey, your courage and dedication inspire me beyond measure.

Mel Favreaux, for helping me make Captive at Christmas the best it can be. For late night giggles and hilarity. For sharing and caring. For being you. Mellie George, for being my biggest cheerleader.

Third, I would like to thank all the bloggers and reviewers who fell in love with Mac and Hannah as much as I did, and encouraging me to never give up on my dreams.

Finally I would like to extend a massive thanks to Titan Inkorp for giving me the chance to bring my story to the world.

"Love is, of all passions, the strongest;

for it attacks simultaneously

the head, the heart, and the senses."

~Lao Tzu~

1

At long last Hannah edged her way to the top of the mountain, pulling up to a quaint snow-covered cabin. A weary smile curved her lips. The log and stone retreat with large shuttered windows looked the same as the picture on the online brochure she’d found. A stone chimney rose above the roof. Slow curling white smoke drifted upwards into the darkening sky above, beckoning her.

Gathering as much of her belongings as she could carry in one go, Hannah used her backside to shut the car door, retreating from the frigid mountain air into the cottage. Vancouver wasn’t as cold as this, thanks to the coastal climate. Clouds of gloom attempted to settle over her at the prospect of spending the next two weeks here alone, but she shook them off. A failed relationship with a man who proved he didn’t care was not going to keep her company. This time she’d spend for herself, relaxing, enjoying the solitude and the beauty of nature.

She’d not let him or what he did get to her, not any longer.

Especially not during Christmas.

Silly as the notion was at this day in age, Hannah Magnus had never left her home country of Canada and, if not for Gary, she might have never taken this trip. Regardless of his lack of attendance on what she’d planned as a romantic holiday getaway, Hannah decided to go on her own and enjoy herself. After she witnessed her ex-boyfriend’s extracurricular activities, the decision to cross the border into Washington State and spend some time alone came easily to her. It was either that or hang back in Vancouver searching for a new place to live while he sucked face with someone new.

Stop thinking about it. Hannah swiped the back of her hand over her cheeks, unintentionally spreading warm tears over her skin.

No, she’d not waste any more tears on him. Straightening her spine, Hannah familiarised herself with the inside of the cabin. The word cozy came to mind, even with the vaulted ceilings and exposed beams, large stone fireplace, and hardwood floors. Directly across from the front door, a ceiling to floor window showcased a spectacular view of the mountainside. Big fluffy flakes of snow whipped across the scene. Hannah shivered. She’d gotten here just in time.

To her left was the kitchen. All the small luxuries she expected in a city home filled the small space, along with a welcome basket sitting on the island counter. She took the card and read it over, frowning. Inspired Romance was the title of the basket’s contents. She’d forgotten to call and tell the booking agent Gary wouldn’t be joining her.

Distraction. She needed to do something, to take her mind off the pain in her heart. Hannah set to work unpacking the food items first, storing the perishables where they needed to be, then worked on the rest. She might have packed a little too much for one person to consume in a fortnight. But two weeks in remote isolation without cake and other freshly baked goods, and an ample supply of wine while suffering a broken heart made for a disaster recipe.

Once she finished putting the food away and storing the coolers, Hannah braved the cold a second time. She ran out to her car, dodging the heavy snowfall. Just the one suitcase in her trunk, lonely and filled with boring comfortable clothes.

Brisk wind shot through the layers of her winter jacket. She hustled back inside, using the key fob through the window to lock her vehicle back up. Shaking off the snow from her shoulders, Hannah shrugged out of her outerwear and located the one and only bedroom, to the right of the front door. In the far corner, overlooking another spectacular snowy scene, she spotted a large whirlpool tub.

She set her suitcase on the floor by the window and dropped onto the bed, staring outside. Was this what her life had come to? Twenty-six years old, a string of failed relationships and no romantic prospects in her future, committed to her job and her foundation, but with little else to show for her life?

Alone. That’s what she was. All alone. She had no one, save for a few close friends.

Letting out a self-pitying sigh, she pushed up and shuffled back into the kitchen to pour herself a glass of wine. The clock read a little after three. So what? This counted as her holiday and she didn’t take many. In fact, a nice long soak in the tub sounded much more appealing than reading through the leather bound information booklet left out on the counter. The long drive knotted up her shoulders and left her aching all over.

While the water filled up, Hanna tied back her long brown hair, examining herself in the bathroom mirror. As a child, her father always told her mousy brown hair was a good thing. Not too provocative but gave a hint of the imperceptible. She had no idea what he meant then and still didn’t get it. In her opinion, the long brown hair hanging lifeless over her shoulders was boring. Everything about Hannah was plain, straight-laced, and boring.

The tub caught her attention. Nearly full. She had just enough time to refill her wineglass and grab some chocolate from the gift basket in the kitchen. Gourmet truffles from France. Hannah bit her lip in anticipation. She never could say no to really nice chocolate.

Stripping out of her clothes, leaving them in a pile on the floor, Hannah set her glass down on the edge of the tub and opened up the box of chocolates. The rich scent of cocoa and caramel elicited a moan. Damn they smelled good. She took one of the truffles and popped it in her mouth, letting the flavours melt on her tongue. Heaven certainly was a nice warm bath, delicious treats, and a big glass of red wine.

Mackenzie Dunlop hated a lot of things. Being away from his home, his sanctuary, took the top spot on his long list. The only thing worse than having his house undergoing repairs was not being able to stay in it, while the repairs were taking place. He still couldn’t be convinced that the felled tree was an accident, but the surrounding snow told of no human presence. Perhaps he simply had grown far too paranoid for his own good.

Almost three years on the run from his former employers did that to a man though. There were a few threats he’d like to see the back of but had yet eluded him, and he knew he’d be looking over his shoulder for the rest of his miserable existence. But he had some serious thinking to do. No, more like serious changing. There wasn’t much to think about. Reality waited for no one. He had two weeks of solitude before reality came crashing to his door, ruining the solitary life he’d created since the day he walked away from the worst memory of his life.

Mac shook his head. Never a good idea to dwell. He’d have a teenaged house guest with him soon. A permanent one. He still wasn’t convinced, but the DNA test would tell him what he needed to know. The last thing he wanted at thirty-eight years old was to find out he’d already had a kid for the past fourteen years.

Especially when he just started to get some semblance of a life together. A normal life, at that – or as normal as anything ever could be when it came to an ex-assassin for hire with a high price on his head. They sold him to the highest bidder. He did the job without question and often received a large payment for his silence.

Now he saw it all clearly, and how expendable he’d been to his employers. His own president left him to rot in a cell in a country that God himself wouldn’t visit. And when he escaped and touched back down on his own soil, he’d become a traitor for not dying, not being executed like they’d hoped. After everything he did in the name of peace and his country, Mac never mattered to them. He was a means to an end, nothing more.

Christ, Mac sighed, raking his free hand through the thick, dark hair covering his head.

The snow picked up, falling in larger, heavier chunks. They melted the instant they hit his windshield. He didn’t mind though. It might even trap him in the cabin for his ‘vacation’ and give him some time to reflect on everything, including this kid business. Two weeks to get it into his thick skull. Two weeks to work out his issues and get into parent-mode. If the kid turned out to be his. Not just a kid, but a full-fledged God damned teenager. He remembered the woman well, Vivian, a fellow operative from England.

They shared a few nights together off the clock and he never heard from her again. Now she was terminally ill and looking for someone to take care of her kid after she was gone. According to their last communication, that would be sooner, rather than later. When last they spoke, Viv made her condition sound dire. His research concluded what he thought. She was out of time.

Thick evergreen trees blocked his view of the deluxe holiday retreat on the mountain right up until the last minute. A heavy foot came down on the break and he swerved, narrowly missing a small white car hiding beneath a growing snowdrift. Mac’s instincts kicked into high gear at the sight. Less experienced people might not think much of it. However he studied a hell of a lot of things to get to where he was, and snow just so happened to be one of them. The snowfall was heavy, so the vehicle didn’t need to be there for long.

Putting his dark, bullet proof SUV in park, Mac sat in the driver’s seat, taking a cursory glance around. If someone hid, lying in wait in the fallowing snow to ambush him, wouldn’t they have taken a shot by now? The usual warning itch hadn’t struck up yet. Yet. That didn’t mean it wouldn’t. Mac pushed his door open careful not to make a sound. He grabbed his piece from the glove compartment and tucked it in the waistband of his jeans. The cool weapon pressed against the muscles of his bare back, hopefully an unnecessary precaution, but he didn’t survive this long to be taken out on the top of a mountain in the middle of nowhere.

His soundless approach took him around the cabin but again, he saw nothing out of the ordinary. Whoever belonged to the vehicle must be inside.

With a simple twist on the knob, he found the door unlocked. Mac reached for the concealed weapon with his free hand, now warmed by his flesh. He pushed the door open, cringing when it creaked. He waited. Nothing happened. No one came at him. Still, that didn’t mean no one would.

Mac tested the door again. No noise this time. But a whirring sound filled the inside of the cabin, setting the hairs on the back of his neck on end and tightening the muscles in his hardened frame to full alert. The unlocked door, he understood. Mac called ahead of time and told them he’d be arriving late, and they said the door would be left unlocked for him. But the sound of a motor running, or some small appliance, he had no explanation for that.

The main living area of the cottage showed no signs of life. The opened wine bottle and rumpled cellophane packaging told him someone had been there – or still was. He made it this far in life by trusting his instincts. Right now they flashed warning signals, burning his nerve endings, and shocking him to attention.

His eyes scanned what he could see of the inside. Mac slipped through the doorway. He didn’t bother kicking his boots to loosen the snow clinging to them. His weapon trained ahead of him, he searched the entire main living area. Contented for the moment, he turned to the doorway on his right.

Again, he made a silent entrance into the room; a bedroom with an enormous king sized bed, just like he asked for. As a man standing at six feet, six inches, the usual beds simply wouldn’t do. He could hardly wait to sink into its comfort after driving for nearly fifteen hours straight–

Hmmm…

Someone was in the room with him.

Mac dropped to the