3 Chapter 3: Are you serious?

Charley rubbed her eyes. The back of her head ached as if she'd hit it. What a crazy dream! That's what she gets for agreeing to a blind date. She must have been stood up or something.

How did she get home? She stretched. Mmm, so warm. She always wanted a real down comforter. Especially this winter when temperatures dropped to single digits almost every night. Wait a minute, when did she buy this anyway? It was always one of those things on her wish list, but she could never really justify the expense.

She opened her eyes and looked around. Panic gripped her as ferocious blue eyes as light as a glacier reflecting the sky stared at her. Those glorious eyes were set in the perfectly sculpted face of a man bigger than anyone she had ever seen. Charley inhaled.

"Aghh-," a hand the size of a baby watermelon clamped gently over her mouth.

"I'm sorry, but please, no more screaming. I have a terrible headache," his voice was deep and sincere, and he seemed exhausted. She almost sympathized with him. Till she remembered she'd been kidnapped.

She nodded as much as she could. His hand smelled good. A woodsy, clean scent filled her nostrils. Like cut grass, and Christmas trees, and fresh split wood rolled into one. Whatever. Focus girl!

He removed his mammoth hand and Charley looked him over. He sat perched on a wooden chest next to the bed. The seven not dwarves were nowhere to be seen. She was alone. With him. She pulled the sides of the flannel robe tighter.

"Oh, well gee, I'm sorry. Seriously, excuse me, you have a headache! Allow me to be a little more cooperative with you. After all I asked to be kidnapped, dragged into a van, rendered unconscious, stripped of my clothes and held against my will!" by the time she was finished Charley was yelling, out of breath, and ready to hit someone.

A small smile played at the corner of her captor's lips after her tirade, but it quickly turned into a frown. She liked seeing that small smile and the knowledge she had been responsible for it warmed her insides. His glower, on the other hand, did not.

"Who stripped off your clothes?" he growled in a deep baritone.

She was embarrassed to admit it was not all that unpleasant a timbre. Especially if under the right circumstances. Stop it, Charley.

"I don't know! What part of rendered unconscious did you not understand? And-"

"I'll be right back," he was up and walking out the door before she could finish.