Hot for Hostage

by Maggie Evans

Mr. Reed. I’m the one with the gun, so if I say you’re my hostage, then you’re my hostage. Got it?” Oh, I got it. “Of course. My apologies. I’m your hostage,” I said, no longer hiding my grin. And to think I’d thought today would be boring.

Sadie’s Guide to Hostage-Taking, Tip #4: Don’t let your hostage’s good looks distract you from your mission.

Who knew Davian Reed would be attracted to short bakers in pink overalls, pointing a gun at him?

And hopefully she’d forgive me for this, because I wasn’t ready to let her go just yet.

“I’m not leaving here without my dog!” she yelled at Fessy and his crew, brandishing the broom. “Where is he?” A determined scowl pinched her face—more endearing than intimidating—and I swear my goddamn soul floated out of my body.

“You told me Bear was a dog,” Davian muttered, eyes narrowing into slits as he got to his feet. “Not a hellhound.”

The mutt guarded Sadie like he owned her, and it pissed me off. I couldn’t even hold her fucking hand without him getting in the way.