A Battle of Wills…
"You are the mistaken one, Miss Kingfield," he said with dangerous calm. "Consider yourself abducted, for the purpose of hearing this tale of yours that you have determined I had a hand in. Stop flailing about and explain yourself."
A flash of panic intruded into her anger. Jacie dipped her left hand into her skirt pocket. The pistol's comforting form fit neatly in her palm. Suddenly she felt considerably pacified.
"A warning, Mr. Rayne," she said coolly, “I have a weapon.”
An eyebrow rose. "A threat. My first served up by a woman. How enchanting."
He sounded neither enchanted nor concerned. His grip about her waist didn’t relax. Evidently he thought her threat an idle one. She positioned the pistol more advantageously, raising her hand so he could discern the shape of the weapon in her pocket.
"It will be the last you are ever served by either man or woman if you do not release me immediately."
"Very well." He dropped his hands from her waist and in the same instant raised them to her face. "Don't shoot," he murmured against her mouth.