MIA CHANTAL IN JEOPARDY by Brian Sands

Part Six: Jigsaw Complete

Mia's breath came only in a thin thread through her nose and her chest ached as she ran desperately along the road. It was now dark but a gelid glow on the horizon foretold of the coming moon. Snedley's footsteps sounded closer. He was gaining on her and Mia realized that she had probably left it too late to dive into the shadows and hide.

And then she was overtaken by anger. After everything this odious man had done to her she was going to be in his clutches again. It was a cliched phrase but Mia could think of no other way of describing the feeling of Snedley's hands on her. He did clutch, he did paw. Every moment that Snedley touched her made her feel dirty. Whenever he bound the ropes around her body her skin crawled. And it was going to happen again. There was no point in fleeing. She was out of breath and the sounds of Snedley's running steps were loud in her ears.

So Mia Chantal turned and stood upright in the middle of the darkening road to face her tormenter. For a moment his lanky bulk could not be seen in the gloom. Then he loomed into sight. His breath was coming in ragged gasps and Mia saw that he swayed on his feet. Perhaps her kick to his head had had some effect after all, she thought with satisfaction. Because of all she had gone through, Mia felt less than charitable towards the loopy fellow.

When Snedley came up to her face to face, Mia held her ground. And there they stood, in a sort of tableau, the tall lurching man - who must be topping six fet at least, Mia guessed - and the slender young woman, her hands bound behind her back, her gamin figure of five and a half feet dwarfed by that of her pursuer.

'You little ..., ' hissed Snedley, and he raised his arm to strike the helpless woman. But something about Mia, perhaps her defiance, made him pause and think better of it. Snedley lowered his hand and instead fumbled in the side pocket of his jacket, drawing from it a long piece of cord. 'I'll deal with you when we get back to the house,' Snedley continued. 'Get over there,' he nodded towards a patch of grass at the side of the road. Mia obeyed. 'On your knees.' With some difficulty because her arms were bound behind her back, Mia did as she was ordered. 'On your face. Wheee!' Snedley was beginning to enjoy himself again.

It was more difficult for Mia to lie face downwards without falling, but she managed it by half turning and propping her body temporarily with outstretched arms and lowering herself sideways, and from there onto her stomach. 'Don't worry your pretty head about anything more,' Snedley lied. 'I've got you just where I want you.' He began tying Mia's ankles together, turning and turning the cord before cinching it between and fastening it with ruthless efficiency. 'You ain't going to run no more from me, Mia me beauty.'

Bound and helpless though she was, Mia could scarcely suppress laughter at the corny level of the fellow's thought-processes. For the only moment in the whole experience, Mia was glad that she was severely gagged.

What followed next was not very funny. Snedley twisted several loops of cord around Mia's upper arms over the long sleeves of her satin jacket and jerked them so tight that the young woman's elbows were ground firmly together. The pain, especially in her shoulders and at her wrists, was so intense that Mia passed out. She came to moments later to find that she was sitting with her head bowed forwards, linked close to her knees by several more layers of cord, her breasts pressed against the front of her thighs. Windings had been made around her neck to her shins, and Snedley was cinching them in some way to prevent them from slipping over her knees. When that was done, Mia was laid on her side and Snedley attached her ankles to her wrists, pulling the ties tight. How many lengths of cord did the man have in his pockets? Mia wondered groggily. Her tormenter straightened up and stood gloating at her, his hands on his hips. Mia now lay doubly secured, in a foetal position and a hogtie, totally unable to do more than make small tremblings against her bonds.

'That's clipped your wings, me little bird,' Snedley crowed. 'You won't be so game and chirpy after a couple of hours like that. But time to get you back nice and secure to your nest in our aerie.'

With those words, Snedley seized Mia's arm bonds where they were cinched between her shoulder blades and, lifting her by them, walked towards the old car, carrying Mia as though she was a suitcase. The pressure on her arms, communicated to the rest of her body, constricted her everywhere with no relief to any of her limbs. The dark surface of the road passed below within inches of her face with a swaying motion that made her gorge rise. The horrible gag filling her mouth made her want to vomit, but she had not eaten since that morning and she managed somehow to swallow back the bile that would otherwise have threatened to get into her lungs and drown her. Mia experienced some relief when Snedley stopped at the rear of the car and lowered her to the road while he opened the trunk.

Being packed onto her side in the narrow confines of the trunk did not seem so bad at first, after the nauseating passage over the half mile back to the car. But Mia was seized by pure horror when the lid of the trunk closed over her. When she had been incarcerated in the trunk of the limousine at the beginning of it all, she had been blindfolded and for that reason had a little time to grow accustomed to the feeling of enclosure. She had not liked it at all, but the trunk of the limousine had allowed an illusion of space, though she had been unable to move in it. Now, however, cramped into the small car, Mia could feel one side of the trunk's interior against her feet, another side at her back, and one shoulder could easily touch the lid. Added to this was a network of cords that kept her folded into an immoveable ball. It was undignified, as well as being absolutely frightening, to be trussed up in this way.

Mia found herself screaming in frustration, though no-one would hear her. She pitied other women more claustrophobic than herself who might find themselves in similar jeopardy. She knew that for her the journey back to the old house and the cellar prison would be a short one. At least there would soon be fresh air to breathe when she was lifted out of the trunk, and the stale air in the cellar. Even as these thoughts passed through her mind Mia felt the light car leave the smooth surface of the road and begin the tortuous drive along the rutted track leading to the old place. Taking a deep breath, she stopped screaming against the thick wad of cloth filling her mouth and settled down to await what fate held next in store for her.

The small car rocked to a halt. Mia heard the doors opening then slamming shut as her two captors disembarked, and a moment later the lid of the trunk was raised and Snedley's face grinned down at her, distorted by the glancing moonlight. 'Upsy-daisy,' he crooned dementedly, and once again Mia was hauled from her narrow confinement. Gratefully, she drank in the pure mountain air through her nose, turning her face away from the looming grin of her captor. Snedley carried her a short distance, and dumped her roughly onto a patch of grass that had known better days as a lawn.

Mia lay there on her side, looking with interest at the tall man and short dumpy woman standing by the car, their forms brought into silvery relief by the full moon that hung just above the horizen. She was still puzzled by the relationship between them. They were so oddly matched.

Snedley and Sarah were talking with unusual earnestness. They had turned their backs to Mia so that she could not make out any words at that distance. But the young woman could understand their tone. Some sort of argument was starting up. It grew louder as Snedley began waving his arms about and walking in circles in front of Sarah. Then, as the man turned in her direction, Mia heard his next words clearly. They sent a chill through her.

'I'll do what I want with her,' Snedley almost shouted. 'She's my prize. You can be happy enough with what Sir Murgatroyd pays us, but I have to have a bonus. And she's it!' He strode to Mia and stood swaying above her. His anger and madness were palpable and Mia shrank back in her bonds, experiencing a real terror that transcended anything she had felt thus far during the different manifestations of her captivity.

'Don't you touch that girl!' screamed Sarah. And Mia watched in astonishment as the short woman flung herself onto Snedley's back and wrapped her arms about his neck.

Snedley let out a 'Gurk,' and arched backwards. His flailing feet came perilously close to Mia, and the girl tried hopelessly to roll out of the way. Mia could not move at all in the fetal position in which she was bound, and one heavily shod foot grazed her shoulder and left it throbbing. But fortunately Sarah's weight on Snedley's back dragged the man a short distance from his prisoner and Mia was saved from further trampling.

Sarah's control over Snedley did not last. The man was incredibly strong and in another moment he had thrown the woman from his back and turned on her. Sarah began scrabbling on all fours towards the car in an attempt to escape. In fear for what Snedley might do to Sarah, Mia tried to scream at the top of her voice but succeeded in making only a croaking sound. It was enough to attract Snedley's attention however. He giggled, and backed away from Sarah. 'You'll keep,' he muttered in a sinister tone, and he turned and walked casually towards Mia.

For the first time the young woman saw that Snedley carried a wicked looking hunting knife. The broad steel blade caught and scattered shards of moonlight as the madman dropped onto one knee in front of her. He waved the knife hypnotically a few inches from Mia's eyes. 'Won't be no more Houdini tricks from you now, will there? We don't want something nasty to happen to that pretty face.' Mia shook her head violently and mmmphed her agreement. A trickle of sweat ran down her back, cooling in the freshening night air.

Snedley rose and put the weapon away into some sort of sheath under his jacket. The sound of the car door opening and closing made him half turn. 'Won't do no good,' he called to Sarah who was scrabbling about in the driver's seat. 'Cos I got the key.' The keys of the old car glinted as he held them aloft in the moonlight. 'I'll deal with you in a little bitsy while.' He pocketed the keys and turned towards Mia. 'But first I got to make Mam'selle comfortable. We'se gonna have some fun, you an me, baby. Cos I'se got plenty a rope down there just awaitin for your perty li'l arms an legs,' he lisped in a parody of something that only he knew the meaning of in his twisted mind. 'So now a li'l comfy carryin an' we'll be there.'

'I don't think so.' A man's voice from the shadows by the house cut the night air.

Snedley froze, caught stooping to lift Mia by her ropes as he had done earlier. His head swivelled from right to left, searching for the source of the interruption to his plans. 'Wha ..., wha ...,' he began. 'Where is you? Who is you?'

'You ought to know, you excrescence.' A figure detached itself from the gloom and stepped onto the path between house and car.

Mia could scarcely believe it. The voice sounded like that of Miles deVille! But it couldn't be! How would he know where they had taken her? Of course. He followed Sarah and Snedley.

Mia often held the picture of that standoff in her mind with a special affection for her rescuer.

Snedley took two paces back when he saw Miles's silhouette against the moonlight. 'You ...,' he began, and Mia's heart leapt to her mouth when she saw the glint of steel in his hand once again. I'll finish you. You ain't getting the girl like they do in the movies.'

'You'd be well advised to do better than that,' Miles rejoined urbanely. 'Fools who bring knives to a gunfight can't be told.'

A metallic grey turned to silver in the moonlight as Miles raised his right hand. Snedley stood uncertainly a moment, then with an oath he flung the knife straight at his adversary. Mia squealed with fright through her gag, but Miles seemed to make a light subtle movement to one side and the razor sharp steel flashed harmlessly past his shoulder to clatter somewhere against the porch of the house behind him.

'My turn,' he exclaimed grimly, and with a few short steps Miles came up face to face with his enemy. Mia could not quite see what occurred. It seemed that Miles struck Snedley somehow with the revolver he carried. Pistol-whipped, the lanky chauffeur tumbled backwards: 'Gurk ... oof.' But Miles followed up his momentum and the two men - one pursued, the other pursuing - disappeared into the darkness. Mia could hear a succession of blows that, in a melodramatic mood, she would describe later as sickening thuds. Then there was silence.

Mia lifted her head and peered into the darkness as best she could, bound as she was in the indescribably cramped position. Then someone was kneeling next to her, sawing energetically with a small pocket knife at the cords that bound her. It was Sarah. 'We'll have you out of this in a jiffy, dear,' Sarah muttered under her breath. 'Poor thing, you've suffered plenty at the hands of that beast.'

As the bindings fell away, Mia was able to straighten her legs, but not without pain, so stiff they had become. She heard the sound of soft footfalls approaching across the path, and Miles reappeared. Between them, Miles and Sarah propped Mia up into a sitting position and, while the man supported the young woman, Sarah carefully slipped the blade of the small knife under the tape at her jaw line and severed it with a single practised movement. There was a moment of searing agony as the tape was stripped from the back of her neck, then it was peeled more gently from her lips and from around her mouth. It stung a little when the tape pulled against her upper lip, but it was glorious to be free and to be able to eject the wad of cloth. Mia coughed helplessly and groaned with relief. Miles's strong, steady arms held her. His hands firmly massaged her face, around her mouth and jaws.

'Oh my god,' Mia said in a throaty whisper, 'If that isn't arriving in the nick of time ...'

*

A week later, Mia was reclining on a large sofa in Miles's arms. A fire was once again roaring in the grate, this time dispelling the autumnal chill that was settling on the coastline. A lustrous grey silk skirt billowed around Mia's legs and nylon-shod ankles, and she wore a blue body stocking with long sleeves beneath her light, freshly dry-cleaned satin jacket. That jacket meant to lot to Mia. It had cushioned the worst of the bonds that Snedley had put on her and prevented any real damage to her arms.

During her medical examination she had been told about the danger of nerve damage that could be sustained if someone was tied up really tight, but Mia had come out of her ordeal relatively unscathed. Over the three days of her imprisonment as a kidnap victim, she had sustained a cut to the corner of her mouth, the loss of a patch of skin on one wrist, and a rope abrasion on one arm. All had drawn blood, but superficially. In addition she wore a fading blue bruise on one shoulder where Snedley's foot had caught her, and her arms and legs had a number of rope-burns and bruise marks. But she was a young woman and very fit, and these minor injuries had soon begun to heal and fade. There was a day of post-trauma shock when she lay in bed curled into a ball, feeling weaker than she had ever felt in her life. This was now behind her.

'I understand a little about what was going on while I was a prisoner in that horrible cellar,' Mia said sleepily, 'But it's all disjointed.'

'You'd like me to fill you in on it more formally, my Dear?' Miles replied, cradling her closer in his arms. His long sensitive fingers brushed a strand of hair off her cheek and he kissed her ear lightly.

'Mm hmm.'

'Okay. It goes something like this. I'm a member of a low-key international law enforcement agency. It's name doesn't matter. We don't call one another "Secret Agent X or Y," you know. That's what some of our Australian Branch friends would call a dead giveaway. It was they who tipped us off that Sir Murgatroyd was organising a scam somwehere in this country. So I posed as a wealthy recluse willing to lend his money for any well-argued venture that would make more money. We were hoping to find a means of auditing the fellow's accounts when I became a client. And we knew that Snedley was one of Murgatroyd's minor henchmen.'

Mia shivered at the mention of Snedley's name, and snuggled deeper into Miles's arms.

'He is a real chauffeur. He drives for Murgatroyd some of the time. But he goes off on his own business on the underworld fringe. We thought that by watching his movements we'd gain a better knowledge of what his boss was up to. That was where we made the miscalculation that put you in jeopardy. On his own initiative, Snedley took it into his head to kidnap you and demand a ransom. He was in essence double-crossing his boss. But when the deed was done Murgatroyd went along with it. When there's a possibility of gain, that man's in on it. Murgatroyd deals in what they call euphemistically the white slave trade. You were very lucky we found you when we did, Dear Love, because we have every reason to believe that Snedley was going to take you to a waterfront warehouse and not back here.'

Mia shivered again. 'How did you find me?'

'Through Sarah. She's an exchange operative from our Australian branch, skilled in the arts of disguise. Ahh, here she is now with our coffee,' said Miles, turning his head in response to a firm rap on the door. Sarah entered bearing a tray.

Mia could not believe the transformation before her eyes. Instead of the plain dumpy maid with mousy hair, Sarah was a slim and attractive forty-something woman with flaming hair. She was not even as short as Mia remembered her.

'There you go,' Sarah said with a smile, and she passed a large mug of steaming liquid to Mia's hands. 'It's vegetable soup,' she explained in answer to Mia's questioning look. 'More nourishing than coffee. You should have some too, Miles. I'll prepare mulled wine for us all after we've eaten, so you'll get your alcohol ration, a little evaporated though. Now I'd better fetch the bread to go with our soup.' With a wink at the younger woman, Sarah left the room.

'So I "hired" Sarah,' Miles continued. 'That's her real name by the way. And she became a plant. She let Snedley believe that she had a criminal past and the fellow was simple enough to fall for it. After that, we knew -thought we knew - every important move he made. We were wrong. We now know that he was stalking you. Ironically, we gave him opportunities whenever I visited you.'

Mia sat bolt upright and drew away from Miles so that she could see his eyes. 'And were your negotiations with our publishing company a cover too?' she asked suddenly.

'No, no,' Miles replied thoughtfully. 'To be honest, that was a case of mixing work with leisure. As it happens, I AM a scribbler of what would have been called pulp novels half a century ago. But it did add to Murgatroyd's general perception of me as an eccentric millionaire with time and money to spare. Of course Snedley reported all my movements to Murgatroyd. But meeting you was unplanned. Often it may be that love comes without conscious volition.'

'Love?'

'I hope I'm not treading on thin ice,' Miles said, taking Mia's hands in his, 'But that's how it is from my point of view.'

Mia remained silent. Her thoughts were racing as though to keep up with the racing of her heart. Just then Sarah reappeared with buttered toast and the ingredients and tools for preparing their mulled wine, and the conversation changed direction.

When they had finished the meal, Sarah cleared the table, left the room for a few moments and returned shrugging into an ankle length overcoat. 'I'll be off now, Miles. Got a hot date in the city. So I'll see you next week. Don't forget our debriefing session with the divisional chief on Tuesday. And, of course,' her eyes shifted to Mia, 'I don't think you'll need protection tonight. Or will you?' Miles shifted uncomfortably and darted a look in Mia's direction.

Mia found herself laughing inwardly, and when Sarah left she turned to Miles and asked, 'What was that all about?'

'Well, aside from being diplomatic in an entirely Australian way, Sarah believe it or not is a bodyguard. It's one of her many accomplishments. She has black belts in four martial arts.'

'Wait a minute! That can't be right,' exclaimed Mia laughing. 'She wasn't very successful at keeping Snedley off me.'

'Have you ever tried to fight someone with your legs hobbled and your body in a brace?'

'?'

'Do you know about the apparatus Lon Chaney wore when he was performing parts such as The Hunchback of Notre Dame? Sarah did the same thing. It was all part of her disguise as a frump. I admit it wasn't very practical in the emergency.'

'So you took over. Whatever happened to Snedley?'

Miles shrugged. 'I left him for dead in the trees because it was more important to attend to you. We thought the police would take care of him but he'd gone by the time they arrived. I don't think he'll be back in a hurry,' Miles added quickly at the sight of Mia's alarmed expression. 'Oh, and by the way ...' He rose and crossed the large room to a wall cupboard, took something from it, and returned to Mia's side.

'My bag! How ... where on earth did it come from?'

'Some children picked it up from the side of the dirt track at a place where it looped close to the main highway, and handed it in to the police. It was our first clue to your whereabouts until Sarah had a chance to pass on the precise location.'

Mia was chagrined to think that she had come so close to freedom on her first escape. But now she was free, and she could think of no better place to be at the moment than with Miles.

Touching him on the arm, Mia said, 'As a matter of fact, I have a little present for you too.' And in her turn, she rose and walked gracefully to where her new handbag rested, on a table near the door. The lovely young woman returned to Miles's side and handed him a small packet wrapped in tissue. Miles unfolded it to reveal a large square light blue scarf in heavy silk, very like the black scarf he had used originally to gag Mia, and which was then used repeatedly on the girl by Snedley. The new scarf was folded into a neat two-inch wide band.

Miles hefted the light material in his hands speculatively before replacing it on the sheet of tissue by his side. Their eyes met. 'I have ... another present for you, dear lady.' With a gleam in his eyes, Miles once again walked to the cupboard and reached for something inside. This time he did not return immediately. Instead, he faced Mia from across the room. In his hands he held several coils of medium thickness cord.

Without a word, Mia rose, shucked off her jacket, and sat herself in one of the heavy, narrow-backed chairs that circled the dining table. She smoothed down the filmy grey silk skirt around her knees and pulled the sleeves of her semi-diaphanous blue body stocking as close to her wrists as they would go. Her back was now turned towards Miles so that she could not see what he was doing. But when she heard the soft sound of his footsteps approaching across the carpet, she put her arms behind her around the back of the chair.

A small quiver of anticipation ran through her as she felt soft cotton cord being wound snug about her wrists. Her sense of helplessness increased with the tightening of each cross turn. Soon additional bindings secured her upper arms to the chair frame. As Miles bound and cinched her ankles and next did the same for her legs above the knees - winding the rope around the soft folds of her skirt - Mia did some experimental struggling and found that she was quite helpless. She had allowed her hands to relax while they were being tied and now it was impossible to twist her wrists at all within the bindings.

Miles took up the silk scarf from where it lay on its wrapper and approached, 'Ready for this?' he asked gently.

'Not quite,' Mia replied with a sweet smile. 'Go look in my bag.' She nodded towards the door-side table and watched as Miles crossed to it and opened the clasp of her handbag. He froze momentarily, then took something from it. 'I kept it for a souvenir of our adventure,' Mia continued. 'It's been dry-cleaned and is as good as new.' It was the black silk scarf that Mia had known as a gag accessory during the three days of her ordeal. When Miles was again at her side, Mia shook the hair from her face with a pretty flirt of her head and said, 'I'll be okay with that. I spent hours with a gag in my mouth, remember?'

'All right, but be careful my Dear,' Miles warned. He stuffed the wadded silk into Mia's mouth. She took all of it in, closed her mouth over it so that her lips were together - though she knew they were not going to be taped this time - and with her tongue pushed the packing hard against her teeth. It stayed there at the front of her mouth, pressing down on her tongue, as Miles bound the blue silk over and around her mouth and cheeks and tied it tightly at the back of her neck. The crisp new silk seemed to cling to Mia's mouth like a second skin and she realised that she would find it very difficult to get rid of the gag, though not impossible.

Mia abandoned herself to her struggles, tossing her heavy dark hair and mummmphing prettily while Miles looked on, a slightly bemused smile of pleasure on his face. At last his lovely consensual prisoner became quiet and ceased her struggles. She was breathing heavily from her exertions. Sweat stood out on her forehead and she felt hot and, she had to admit it, wet. In a subliminal way Mia had come to an understanding during her days bound in the cellar that the experience of being helpless and constricted could be a turn-on. The terror of being Snedley's prisoner, however, had worked against that. Now that she was safe with the man she loved - though she would not tell him that too soon because she liked to tease a little -Mia was beginning to feel embarrassingly horny.

With an abrupt return to the real wold outside her thoughts, Mia looked up just in time to see Miles leaving the room. She tried to call after him, but found that her gag was very effective. She would just have to settle down and await Miles's return, as she had done in his dungeon, which she remembered was somewhere below where she now sat. It seemed so long ago since that scenario was played out.

For some minutes Mia experimented with her bonds, wondering whether she could work herself free, but Miles had tied them cunningly. I can't escape from this man, she thought ruefully. And he doesn't want me to, either. I'm bound and gagged here because Miles is afraid of losing me. He's afraid that I'll get away from him. How many good, decent men have held those fears in their hearts? And women too. We hurt one another so much in our games of love, where a little honesty and trust can heal so many wounds.

Mia's reverie was broken by the sound of the door being opened. Eagerly, she turned her head to greet Miles with a reproving mmmph, and her heart almost stopped beating.

It was Snedley.

Mia broke out in a cold sweat and began trembling violently in her bonds. She knew that it was impossible to scream but she could not prevent a thin wail from trying to get past the layers of silk that imprisoned her mouth.

Snedley looked grotesque. His chauffeur's uniform was spattered with dried mud to which pine needles still adhered. His head was wrapped in a makeshift bandage that made it look for all the world as though he was wearing a rakish turban. His eyes were wild, his steps uncoordinated, and any sanity that the man might have enjoyed had well and truly fled his mind. He advanced upon Mia who cringed away from him while at the same time watching him over her shoulder in fascination, like a small bird mesmerised by an approaching snake.

'Well well, looky here,' Snedley mumbled, a little vaguely Mia thought. 'Mam ... M'selle Chanteuse ... Chantal. Aha ha.' He was now towering over the terrified young woman in the attitude of dominance he had cultivated all the while he had held Mia as a hostage. 'All tied up an nowhere to go.' Mia renewed her struggles against Miles's ropes with fresh vigour. 'Ahh dear. Can't get free?' Snedley crooned. 'You'll tip up an hurt yersel. Mustn't have that.' And so saying, Snedley took the chair in which Mia was bound, grasping it by the front legs, and tilted it backwards all the way so that Mia now lay partially upside down. She was thankful that the high back of the chair was braced against the floor in such a way that it allowed space for her bound arms and did not crush them against the floor. She was thankful too that the ropes bound above her knees also held her skirt in place.

Snedley hunkered down on the floor beside Mia and began pawing and fondling her breasts through the flimsy skin-tight silken fabric of her body stocking. Mia cried aloud through her gag with revulsion and turned her head away.

'Take your hands off her, you bastard!' Miles's voice echoed in the large room like a whip-crack.

Snedley leapt to his feet and, forgetting Mia, shambled malevolently towards Miles, bunching his fists. Miles was tall - he had once told Mia his height was a little below six feet - but Snedley was a gangling giant looming above his adversary by a good six inches. Snedley's long arms also gave him extra reach.

Wide-eyed, Mia lay uncomfortably on her back, her body straining painfully against the bonds that held her arms and legs to the chair, and watched the confrontation between the two men. She thought with a kind of shock that it was the first time any men had ever fought over her, and in this case it was a real combat.

As Snedley approached, Miles held his ground in an unusually casual stance. His arms rested easily by his sides. His body was turned a little side-on towards his attacker. Snedley on the other hand just kept on coming, flailing his arms as he lurched towards Miles. One of Snedley's arms shot out and Mia winced, thinking it was going to connect. But, with an imperceptible and deceptively easy movement, Miles drifted backwards so that Snedley's fist passed through thin air, though within an inch of Miles's face. Snedley's next flailing punch was side-stepped with an equally relaxed movement. Snedley's third, and last, punch was a straight-arm karate blow towards the face. Miles side-stepped that one too but this time countered with a short thrust to Snedley's chest that was a blur of speed to Mia's unpractised eyes. Snedley faltered, his knees buckled, and with a surprised and slightly stupid moue the tall looney folded into a heap on the floor at Miles's feet.

Without taking his eyes from his opponent's supine form, Miles crossed rapidly to Mia's side, set the chair and her upright again, and quickly removed the bandage from over her mouth and the gag wadded between her teeth.

'My hero! ... I've always wanted to say that,' Mia gasped. She was making a joke of it, but she looked with open admiration at Miles, who found himself blushing uncharacteristically.

'Are you all right?' I think that's what I'm supposed to say next,' Miles rejoined.

'I am, now that you're here. It was only my pride that was hurt,' said Mia, responding to the spirit of the moment.

'Right,' said Miles, returning to a business-like manner. 'I'll borrow your cell phone, and we'll get this garbage carted away.' Mia nodded happily.

She watched while Miles spoke tersely for half a minute into the phone. He then walked across to the bundle of clothes that represented Snedley's unconscious form, took the fellow by the collar of his uniform, and began dragging him across the carpet towards the door.

'Hey,' Mia called after Miles,' You're not leaving me here are you?'

Miles stopped, turned, and walked back to her. 'Are you sure you're all right?'

'I'm fine. Just had a bit of a scare, though, and I'd like you to stay.'

'That's all I need to know.' And with that Miles replaced the gag between Mia's teeth and tied the silk bandage across her mouth again.

Through Miles's hands, Mia felt the nervous tension from the recent fight and with surprise she noted that his fingers were equally as strong as Snedley's, if not stronger. She received another shock as the silk covering her mouth and jaws was tied very tightly at the back of her neck, much tighter than it had been tied before. Miles was breathing heavily and there was something about his mood that frightened Mia a little. Some unused rope lay on the floor and the next moment Mia found herself bound even tighter to the chair around her waist and in a criss-cross above, below and between her breasts. She could not move at all.

Miles struck an intimidating pose, 'I'll be back!' Then he resumed his grip on Snedley's collar and walked to the door. This time Mia could not call him. Her last view of Snedley was of his feet dragging across the floor and receding through the door behind Miles.

Mia waited in an agony of impatience for Miles to return. The fire was beginning to burn low in the grate, a chill was settling in the large room, and the flimsy silks she was wearing were no protection against the cold. Her blue body stocking had been torn in one place where Snedley had groped her, leaving a few inches that revealed a shadowed junction between one breast and her body. No amount of struggling could get her out of the ropes. She was more tightly bound than before. And the gag was beginningto hurt. But it was Miles who had bound and gagged her this time, and in spite of the cold, and the discomfort from ropes and gag, she knew she was his. And he is mine too, she thought. It works both ways. That made all the difference.

This time, when Mia heard the door open, it was Miles. The sense of relief was sharper than before and, when her rescuer came up to her, tears were pooling in Mia's eyes. And as the bandage was untied from her face a large tear-drop rolled down her cheek. Miles bent forward and kissed it away. Then his hand cupped over Mia's mouth, preventing her from ejecting the rest of the gag.

'Listen carefully.' Mia nodded. 'After the fight something snapped in me. I realised more than ever how precious you are to me. I wanted you so badly that I would have taken you, on that table or in front of the fire. But that idiot Snedley was in the way. I had to dispose of him to the proper authorities and get him out of our hair as soon as possible. I didn't want to leave you. But I didn't want to lose you either. And I was worried that, after the fright, you might have packed up your things and gone home. Now don't try to tell me that did not cross your mind!' Mia nodded in agreement, as much as she could with Miles's strong hand muffling her. 'Okay. So I did the only thing I could think of. I kidnapped you. Temporarily. You can speak now.' He relaxed his grip and gently extracted the cloth from the girl's mouth.

Mia coughed, then she lifted her face to Miles. 'I'm YOUR captive now?' Miles nodded. Mia looked down at herself and tested the bonds holding her immoveably in the chair. 'There's nothing I can do about it then,' she said musingly. 'Except to scream for help and summon all my bodyguards to rush in here and cut off your head.'

'And if you can't scream ... ?'

'If I can't scream, well, there's nothing I can do to help myself. I'm yours. But, Miles, I'm yours even when I can speak. That won't change. You said you loved me a little while ago, and I played an unfair game on you by not answering. Miles, how can I say it? I do love you. If none of this had happened, and our little escapade in the dungeon ended as a game instead of turning into a real kidnapping, I would have continued to enjoy your company - and to let you have freedoms with my body, such as tying me up, which I kinda like, though I had to get used to the idea.' Mia shivered. 'It's getting cold in here and I'm not exactly dressed for an autumn night. Since I'm your prisoner, isn't there a warmer place you can take me to? A bedroom for instance?'

Miles's nodded ruefully. 'You're quite a woman, Mia Chantal. You escaped from your kidnappers twice, and endured long tight bondage for hours, and you still came out fighting! You have my admiration, and my love.'

'Don't say that word too often,' Mia countered. 'There are some words that are so strong it's better to use them sparingly. Anyway, I'm running out of breath, and you have a good way to bring my speech to an end.'

'Yes, me Dear,' and Miles firmly stuffed the gag into Mia's mouth and bound it in place with the blue scarf.

It took only a few moments to release Mia from the chair ties. Then she was carried in Miles's arms up the stairs towards the bedroom, her legs still trussed at ankles and above the knees, her wrists cross-tied. Mia bit down on the gag and closed her eyes. Ahead of them both was a new sort of freedom to share.

The End

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