Kidnapped By Mate

1. Stranger at the Bar

BELLE

I couldn't keep my eyes off the man across the bar from me.

At that moment, I wished that I had dressed up for my flight to Paris.

When our eyes met for a moment, a wave rushed through my body, an unfamiliar feeling I had never experienced. It was like I had found all the answers I was looking for.

I dropped my gaze, turning to the drink in front of me. I needed to calm my nerves.

Flying made me nervous.

Slowly, my eyes drifted back to the man, who was now looking down at his phone.

He was breathtaking... Large to the point that he almost looked comical in his bar stool. His muscles strained against his black shirt and blue jeans, telling me he must've spent quite a lot of time in the gym. He had chocolate-brown hair, mesmerizing dark-green eyes, and a jaw that could've cut through diamond.

His lips were luscious and full, and I unconsciously leaned in, imagining how it would feel to press my lips against them. I imagined what I might do if I were the sort of person that was confident enough to approach him.

I found myself daydreaming about the possibilities...

"What's your name?" I would ask from across the bar.

He would smile and bring his drink along to sit right next to me.

Then he would lean in and whisper his name into my ear, his lips grazing my earlobe.

"Meet me in the bathroom," I would wink before walking away.

I would feel his eyes burning the back of my neck.

A few moments later he would burst through the door, his eyes dripping with desire.

His hard body would press against mine, nearly knocking the air out of me.

He would push me up against the sink, kissing my neck, my legs straddled around him.

"Alpha," a man approached him. "It's time to board the plane."

What a strange way to speak to someone, I thought to myself, downing the last few sips of my drink.

Before he got up, the gorgeous stranger looked at me one last time, a mischievous smile on his face, like he could read my every thought.

"Final boarding call for Flight 2497 to Paris," the announcement boomed overhead.

"Shit," I looked at the time. I was late.

I ushered the bartender over. "May I have the check please?"

"Don't worry about it darling," she said. "That gentleman over there already paid for it." How strange... He paid for my drink and yet did not say a word to me.

I tried to push away my thoughts about the stranger as I walked across the airport toward the gate, luggage in tow. I couldn't seem to calm myself down, even though I tried.

I absolutely hated flying.

And an eleven-hour flight to Paris was the last thing I wanted to be doing the day before Christmas Eve. But my mother had begged me to