Tiffany’s pov

I liked to think that I'd have remembered everything Mark taught me on what to do in case of an emergency if I hadn't been out cold.

It took me exactly one minute after I woke up to realize that I wasn't in my oversized four poster bed in my penthouse apartment.

The bed I woke up in was a full size bed. I'd last slept on a bed this small in my college days.

The mattress was also way too firm to make for a good sleep.

I sat up in a rush and regretted it instantly.

My head hurt like a bitch and my vision went spotty for a bit.

I groaned.

What !. What ! Someone had drugged me and dumped me here. The question was why?

The last thing I remembered was feeling like a damn fool about being rejected by Mark and running off to lick my wounds in private.

After that, everything else was a blur. I was supposed to be worried about myself, who knew what the sick psycho who had abducted me wanted? And yet the only thing I could think about was how worried Mark was going to be. I bit off a curse. I couldn't believe myself.

I was thinking about that asshole even after I offered my heart on a platter of gold to him and he thrown it down and stomped all over it.

"Good, you're awake." My head shot up at the accented voice that had spoken.

The man that stood at the door was tall and imposing. Dark hair was slicked back from his head, the top cut longer than the sides. His eyes were deep brown pools that were regarding me blankly.

A scar cut across his left brow, giving him a roguish look. It didn't detract from his beauty in any way. It was safe to say that this was one of the most good-looking men I'd ever seen. He had the facial structure of a GQ model. High cheekbones, strong jaw framed by a five o'clock shadow, aquiline nose and a full mouth.

Tattoos peeked out the neck and sleeves of the dark grey t-shirt he had on. I tore my eyes away from him quickly, disturbed by the way I was ogling him.

It was the first time I was taking note of the room I was in. It was painfully bare. Except from the bed, an ugly oversized couch at one end and a wardrobe, there was nothing else in the room.

"Who are you? You'd better get me home before Mark finds you." I snapped.

His eyebrows shot up. "I'm not gonna hurt you principessina."

I scoffed.

"If you cooperate of course." He added.

"Cooperate? Sorry, I don't cooperate with criminals."

"I'm not going to hurt you. I've said this before. I've been assigned to keep you here till señor Temper keeps his part of the deal."

"What deal?" And most importantly, since when did my father start making 'deals' with criminals.

"That is not important."

"And what exactly does cooperation entail?"

"I tell you to eat, you eat. I tell you to go to bed, you go to bed."

Anger boiled my blood. Nobody had ordered me to go to bed since I was five. I was definitely not going to take orders from a henchman.

"And what do you expect me to do from sunup to sunset? Stare at the walls? I'll go crazy. You might not know this, but I loathe being idle."

"It's none of my business. Be grateful that I'm not keeping you tied to the bed and giving you fifteen minute bathroom breaks." He said.

"When you go to bed tonight, pray to whatever God you serve that you didn't leave any trial for Mark to follow. I'll to be such fun to watch Mark break your hands for laying them on me." I snarled. I didn't even know whether I was making empty threats. I'd never been napped or targeted in my life. I didn't even know why Charlie kept on shelling out a boatload of cash to pay for a security detail.

Nothing exciting ever happened to me. But, I guess there was a first time for everything. I couldn't say I was a fan though. I'd rather go back to pining after the most elusive man in the world.

But Mark was protective of me. Madly over protective to be honest. For god sake the man counted how many shots I drank when we were out and cut me off at exactly ten like the party pooper he was.

We both knew that he was going past his duty as my bodyguard but neither of us ever addressed it.

So it wasn't a stretch to imagine that Mark wouldn't treat this man who had drugged me and taken me to a place unknown to a friendly brunch.

I was disappointed by the tattoo guy's lack of reaction to my threat.

"I'm sure Mark would harm me adequately once he's done thinking about how to pretend you never threw yourself at him and notices you're missing." He smirked.

It was the first hint of expression I had seen on his face and I wanted to slap it off him so bad. I couldn't believe he had seen that embarrassing display. How long exactly had this bastard been following us?

All the anger bled out of me. I blinked back the tears that were pooling in my eyes. No way was I letting this A-hole see me cry.

It was too late for that judging by the way his expression went from cocky to pained, his eyes searching mine.

"Coffee? I'll go-uhm-" and then left the room. Maybe Mark wasn't looking for me. Maybe he was glad I was gone. Maybe he was taking his sweet time, glad to get rid of me.

The thought ached.

I shook off the thought.

What did the tattooed baddie know about me and Mark? The man was so damn noble and loyal.

He took his duty more seriously than anyone ever should. I was sure he was combing through every grain of sand in search of me.

Even though I was pissed that I'd let Mr. Dark, dangerous and tall's words affect me, I had also realized something.

The over six feet tall man couldn't handle seeing a woman cry. I smirked.

Well, well, well.

Would you look at that?