Secret Passions (Secret Series Romance Novels) Page 4

  Apparently, Mahabir came from a wealthier family than Sandi’s and when she disappeared the week before her wedding, her family was responsible. Basically, the Mahabir family ruined her family after she’d left. Almost all her family’s power had been lost when Sandi had fled the country.

  Chapter Four

  The next morning, Sandi walked out of the bedroom after dressing and making sure the bed was made. When she opened the bedroom door, the place was quiet. She didn’t think that Mitchell was there but to make sure, she walked across the landing and knocked on his door. When she was met with silence, she quietly opened his bedroom door. His bed was neat, almost as if he hadn’t slept in it. His computer screen sat open and was set to a screen saver. She didn’t mean to snoop, but an image of Mitchell and a tall brunette popped onto the screen. She took a few steps into the room and noticed how happy Mitch had looked. Looking at the brunette, she realized that it must be Suzanne. A smile was pasted on the woman’s face, but her happiness didn’t reach her eyes. Then the photo changed to one of Mitch and a taller, dark-haired man. Their arms were slung around each other and both had matching grins. She couldn’t help it, she smiled at the image the pair made. She thought the picture had been taken at a sports game of some sort. She wasn’t sure but it looked like they were standing at a stadium.

  When the photo switched again, she blinked and looked around his room. She could easily get caught up and watch his computer screen all day. Looking around the room, she noticed the design lines and color usage he used here. It was the same as in the rest of his place, simple with a hint of masculinity. There was several small touches here and there that reminded her a woman had once lived here. But for the most part, the space was all his.

  She walked back out of his room and closed the door. Looking over the railing at the living room and kitchen below, she noticed again how silent it was. Taking the twisted staircase, she saw the note on the small stand at the bottom of the stairs. His phone sat in the charger next to a small bowl that held a set of keys and some loose change. Walking closer, she read his scratchy handwriting.

  Sandi, I’ve gone out for a while. Help yourself to anything in the kitchen and make yourself at home. DON’T LEAVE THE APARTMENT FOR ANY REASON! I’ll be back around one. -M

  She smiled and took the note with her into the kitchen. She checked his kitchen and was pleased to see it was well stocked. Taking a large bowl down, she decided to make an old favorite of hers. Masala Dosa was a dish she hadn’t made since she had been living at home. Taking a potato, onion, mushrooms, green peppers, and some of his seasonings, she got to work chopping and grilling in a large pan.

  When the smells started mixing together, a memory of her mother flashed into her head. Sandi was young, around five. She was standing on a small stool in their large kitchen, her mother’s hand holding hers as she helped her stir the contents in a large, flat pan. The smell and feel of her mother comforted her. Blinking, she realized that she hadn’t thought of her mother in years, except in her dreams. She was shocked when a teardrop landed on her hand. Quickly wiping it away, she tried to focus on not burning her breakfast.

  Two hours later, she was bored out of her mind. She’d cleaned his kitchen and the only evidence of her meal was a Tupperware container of leftover dosas in the refrigerator.

  She’d tried to watch television, but her mind just wouldn’t allow her to relax into any of the daytime shows. She’d walked into his large office on the main floor to look for a pad of drawing paper and found an old sketch pad. She found a few colored pencils and sat at his desk and tried to draw for a while. Again, her mind just wouldn’t let her relax. She ended up walking around his office and weight room, looking at everything—his pictures, his books, even some of his paperwork. He had a small stack of bills on the end of his desk. She smiled when she realized he used the same internet service provider that she used.

  She thought briefly about logging in to her account and transferring money into another more secure account, but she didn’t know how her family had found her. Maybe they already had access to all of her money? Then she thought about emailing Eve. Again, questions were raised in her mind. She left his work laptop alone and decided she was better off waiting and discussing these things with Mitch when he got back.

  She looked at the clock on the wall and realized she had two more hours before he was supposed to be back. Walking back into his gym, she saw the treadmill and decided some exercise would do her good. She went back upstairs and changed back into the shorts and found a smaller shirt. She looked in every closet for a pair of tennis shoes that would fit her. Finding nothing, she decided a pair of socks would have to work.

  It took her a while to figure out the settings on the machine, but once she got going, she settled into a relaxed pace. He had a flat-screen TV mounted on the wall above the machine. She had put on the news channel and was enjoying watching television as she worked out.

  When Mitch walked into his place almost an hour earlier then he'd expected, the rich aroma of spicy food hit him. He looked around for Sandi and the last thing he expected to see was her working out on his treadmill. He stood leaning against the wall, watching her tight backside in the skin-tight, black yoga shorts. He noticed she was only wearing socks and he felt a little guilty for not thinking about getting her some new clothing while he was out.

  She was so engrossed in the news, she hadn’t heard him come in. He was shocked when she stopped dead in her tracks on the treadmill. Of course the force of the machine catapulted her backwards, and she ended up landing on her butt a few feet away. He rushed to her side.

  “Are you okay?” He knelt down beside her and noticed her face had gone very pale. Her eyes were glued to the television so he looked to see what had caught her attention.

  There was an older woman standing in a doorway, wearing a long house coat. Her hair was up in curlers, and she was talking about Sandi.

  “I hope she’s okay. I just can’t imagine who would do such a thing. This building was always so safe.”

  The television set showed a picture of an apartment, or what was left of one. A chair and table were in pieces. Then the image showed a picture of a mattress that had been slit open, as had the couch in the next picture. Painting supplies were thrown everywhere, broken in pieces. Dark paint was splattered on every surface.

  “What do you think happened to your neighbor?”

  “I don’t know. I haven’t seen her since early yesterday. That poor dear.”

  “What did the police say happened?”

  “Well, they think someone has taken her. They say there is enough evidence that they went ahead and placed a missing person report out on her.”

  The reporter turned to the camera. “Samantha Rain is twenty-two, five-foot-four, one-hundred-five pounds.” An image of Sandi flashed on the screen; it was a photo taken from her passport. “If anyone has seen this woman or has information on her whereabouts, please contact...”

  Mitchell tuned out the rest. “Sandi?” He put his finger under her chin until she turned her head and looked at him. “We need to talk.”

  “Did you see the look on her face? She looked so... lost. I didn’t know she cared that much. She’s agoraphobic. What’s this going to do to her?” He reached under her arms and pulled her up off the floor. Her eyes were still glued to the television set, staring as if she wasn’t seeing the new report displaying. He turned her towards him, keeping his hands on her shoulders and pulling her into a light hug. The top of her head rested under his chin and he felt her tense her entire body.

  “Sandi, she’ll be okay. I’m sorry about your apartment. All your supplies and paintings.” He felt her starting to relax.

  “All that stuff doesn’t matter to me. They’re just supplies, they can be replaced. The paintings can be redone. But Mrs. Bernstein, she’s older and very frail. I’m concerned about her. Maybe I should contact her. Let her know that I’m okay?”

  “Sandi, let’s go in the living
room and talk.”

  She blinked a few times and looked at him. He could see the tears forming in her dark eyes and wanted to gather her up again. She’d been through so much to get where she was, and now she was having to go through it again.

  When he was sitting across from her in the living room, he could tell her mind was still focused on her neighbor and the news report.

  “Sandi, I think we might have a bigger problem than dealing with your neighbor and the police. I’m not sure your paperwork from when you came into the US is legal.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “I still can’t get in touch with Ethan, and I’m a little worried that the channels he used to bring you into the States weren’t completely legal.”

  She thought about it, tilting her head slightly to the side. “I was sworn in as a citizen with special asylum. I’m a full-fledged American.”

  He thought about it and crossed off a couple other questions he’d been toiling over since her arrival. “That’s good. Okay, that makes a few things easier.”

  “What are we going to do about the police? About them thinking I’m missing.”

  “I’ll have to think about that. I want to make sure we look at every possible angle before we expose you to anything. Your father has some powerful connections. Even here in the US.”

  “Alright. Then what’s our next step?”

  He got up and started to pace back and forth in front of the couch as she sat looking up at him. She was wearing an old pair of Suzanne’s yoga shorts and one of his older tank tops. He couldn’t help but notice how sexy she looked. She had used a large red rubber band to hold back her long hair so that her neck was exposed. He found the sight of her sitting crossed legged on his coach in such comfortable wear very appealing.

  “What?” she asked him and he realized he’d been staring down at her.

  He shook his head clear. “I’m sorry, I should have thought to grab you some more clothes while I was out. Next time I leave, I’ll stop and get you whatever you need. Just make me a list.”

  “I don’t mind going with you.”

  He shook his head. “Until we know more, I don’t want you stepping foot outside this apartment. No phone calls either. I’ve already talked to my doorman who was on duty last night. He’s sworn to secrecy. But now, with the news report, he may want to come check on you to make sure I’m not the one holding you against your will.”

  She smiled and chuckled a little, and he realized what a wonderful sound it was. Her eyes lit up and he could tell for the first time she had forgotten her troubles for a minute. He would have done anything to see that look on her face again.

  “I’d be happy to talk to him. He was very nice to me last night. His name was John, right?”

  He nodded, impressed that she’d remembered. What he hadn’t told her is that he’d also convinced John that she was in danger. He and the other doorman had agreed to watch out for her family. He’d shown the two men pictures of her father and cousin, which he’d printed from an old article online. Even though it was several years old, it was still a very clear shot of their faces.

  He knew there were several things he still needed to accomplish today. First and foremost was explaining why he was going to be taking a few days off down at the office. He had a few meetings he knew he had to reschedule. Nothing major, just things he had to smooth over. He had a trip south next week that he’d have to reschedule as well.

  “I’ve got a few more errands I need to run today. Why don’t you make up that list so I can get you what you need? I’ll be back later tonight.”

  She wrote up her list and he left thirty minutes later. On his way out, he talked to John and told him to swing by and check up on Sandi so he knew she was perfectly safe. John had smiled.

  “Mr. Kovich, you’ve lived in this building for over ten years. I know you would never kidnap that young woman. Besides, she walked into this building on her own, asking after you. I doubt a young woman like that would come looking for you if she didn’t already know the kind of man you were.”

  He thought about John’s words as he made his way out the door. He was right. Sandi must have known he would have helped her, otherwise she would have never hunted him down.

  During the short taxi ride to his office building, his mind tried to shuffle around his schedule. When he finally walked into the business he shared with Carter, he thought he had a plan and excuses he’d make to his secretary and staff.

  Three hours later, he walked into a small boutique full of woman’s clothing with Sandi’s list in hand.

  She’d written in a very delicate handwriting only four items.

  Tennis shoes – size seven

  Pair of jeans – size three

  Shirts – small

  Sketch pad

  He smiled at the last. Well, he could probably do better than just getting her a sketch pad. There was an art supply store three buildings down. He’d make sure to get her everything she’d need to make sure her time stuck at his place would be bearable.

  The first section he went to was the shoe aisle. He knew the kind of items he’d buy for himself, but had no clue what a woman would buy for herself. He’d never done any practical shopping for Suzanne. For that matter, he realized, he’d never even shopped with her for clothing. He stood in the aisle and looked at over four dozen different kind of tennis shoes.

  Did she want running shoes? Walking shoes? There were so many kinds of woman’s shoes, he thought, the simple task of finding the right size was no longer the biggest issues.

  “Can I help you?” Mitch turned to see a young woman with bright blue hair standing two feet away. The name tag on her shirt said, Starla.

  “Yes, please. I’m looking for some shoes for my... girlfriend.” He saw Starla’s smile on her face and he felt a need to explain. “Her apartment was broken into and everything was stolen.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry to hear that. What kind of shoes are you looking for?”

  “Tennis shoes, I think. Oh, and she’ll need some other clothes.” In for a penny, in for a pound, he thought. He might as well have this young girl help him pick out all of Sandi’s clothing.

  Half an hour and two hundred dollars later, he walked down the street and entered the art supply store weighted down with bags of items. At least here, he thought, he could easily figure out what she would need. After all, how hard could it be? It was just paper and pencils, right?

  An hour and several hundred dollars later, he walked out of the store with two of the art store’s employees following him. Everyone had their arms full of boxes and bags. The two boys helped him load everything into a waiting taxi and he made the short trip back home. Looking at his watch, he realized it was past seven. He’d hoped to be home before six. His feet and back hurt from all the shopping, and he doubted he’d have the energy to cook tonight.

  John helped him unload the bags and boxes, and between the two of them, they managed to make it up the elevator with his packages.

  When he opened his door, he was greeted with the most wonderful smells.

  Chapter Five

  The six hours Sandi spent waiting for Mitch to come back were the longest in her life. Being limited on the things she could do had reminded her a lot of being back home. She was antsy and realized she was almost having a panic attack before she decided to get back on the treadmill.

  At least when she was walking, she felt like she wasn’t completely trapped. She desperately wished for her paints. She didn’t know how Mrs. Bernstein could live trapped in the same rooms her entire life. Maybe Sandi had issues with not being able to leave a place because she’d been trapped in her house for most of her life. Since she was seven-years-old, she’d been limited in her movements. After all, her family had to protect and guide her, preparing her for her future.

  But in the five years she’d lived on her own, she’d always enjoyed and marveled at her freedom to come and go. The first few months she had been on her own, she had
found any reason not to be at home. She had spent hours out wandering the street markets near her apartment. She would spend hours at the library or at coffee shops or at the parks painting. She had even taken a day trip, riding the ferry across the water to visit the Statue of Liberty. It had been the most wonderful day.

  After walking on the machine for over an hour, she went up and took a shower and got dressed in her own clothes again. She tried watching television, but when she’d seen her picture on the news again, she’d flipped off the set. Finally, she decided to make dinner, to do something nice for Mitch. She hadn’t baked in a long time and always enjoyed making sweets when she’d been at home.

  She’d been taught how to cook and bake from some of the finest chefs and bakers in India. Why not do something nice to show Mitch her appreciation?