Fast Track to a Honeybun

CHAPTER TWO-4

FABIANA’S EYES FLEW open and her heart kicked into overdrive as she realized she didn’t know where she was. She shot upright, her gaze sweeping the room in a panic.

Pain stabbed through her head like a knife. She groaned and rubbed at the spot with a shaking hand. Cool air slid across her skin and she looked down. She was completely naked.

What the heck!

She was naked, lying in a bed she didn’t recognize, and she couldn’t remember a thing about the night before. A sound in another part of the house caused her to leap out of the bed and run to the bathroom, closing and locking the door behind her. Her terrified gaze flew around the room, taking in the starkly elegant fixtures and plain decorating that told her she was in a man’s home.

Not a feminine touch anywhere in the tidy room.

The only window in the place was comprised of glass blocks. She dropped her butt on the side of the tub and rubbed her hands over her face, her mind racing. She hit a tender area on her cheek and grimaced. Standing up, she went to the mirror and looked. The face looking back at her was pale, with large circles under long-lashed brown eyes and a purple bruise on her cheek.

Her panic level went up. What had she gotten herself into?

The way she figured, she had at least two problems, well...three really...she couldn’t remember a darn thing about the night before. But she also needed clothes and a way out of the house, without being seen by whoever had brought her there.

She jumped as a knock sounded on the bathroom door and grabbed the nearest thing she could find to cover herself with. The washcloth didn’t do much.

She was torn over whether to cover her breasts or other important parts with it.

“Fabiana?”

She knew that voice. Honeybun. Warwicke Honeybun was her kidnapper? That didn’t seem right.

“I put some clothes on the bed for you. And I made breakfast. And coffee.”

Her eyes closed over a wave of pure yearning. Coffee!

“I’ll be in the kitchen. Come out as soon as you’re ready. Okay?”

She envisioned him standing on the other side of the door, waiting for her to respond. She couldn’t speak, didn’t have a clue what to say. So she waited until she heard the bedroom door close behind him before she moved.

She cracked the bathroom door and peeked out, making sure the bedroom was empty before scurrying toward the bed and snatching up the clothes he’d placed there. Dragging on the sweatpants, she pulled the drawstring tight so that the fabric puckered like the base of an upside down balloon at her hips.

An extra foot of fabric pooled at her ankles, billowing out over her feet.

She looked ridiculous.

Fabiana shook her head and reached for a soft t-shirt. When she’d dropped it over her head it hung down to her knees. The shirt smelled like Warwicke Honeybun. It was all she could do to resist burying her nose in the fabric and inhaling his scent.

The man might be a kidnapping freak...but he was drop-dead gorgeous and smelled yummy.

Fabiana stood next to Warwick’s bed and looked around, hugging her roiling stomach with uncertainty. What now?

The smell of coffee and bacon nudged her into motion. At least her kidnapper was willing to feed her.

That was something.

Taking a deep breath, she pulled the door open and headed toward the sounds and smells of normality, wrapped in the bizarre reality of her situation.