Abducted. Samantha Keith

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СКАЧАТЬ Leave me alone.” Her plea was weak and lacked venom as she shrugged him off.

      “Look, I know you have no reason to trust me, but I’m not going to hurt you.” She said nothing. He slid his body behind hers and let her rest against his arm. “I’m going to put my fingers in your mouth and make you throw up. Don’t bite them off if you can help it.” His attempt at humor was lost on her as she sagged against his left arm, her body boneless.

      He pulled her mass of hair back and tucked it between them. He leaned them both forward and inserted two of his fingers into her mouth. She panicked, as he had expected her to, and grabbed for his hand.

      “It’s okay, hold on to my wrist if you need to.” She relaxed only slightly. He eased his fingers down again. She gagged, and her body shook. Saliva swarmed around his hand, but he delved deeper.

      She retched, purging the salty water. She coughed and sputtered. He waited until she was done, then patted her back until her body crumpled against his. He brought her wrists to his teeth and tore off the duct tape. She was shaking now, from the cold and the effects of the night. He scooped her up and got to his feet, gathered the clothes he had managed to shuck off before his dive on top of her, and carried her across the beach to the cabin he had rented.

      She lay spent in his arms, her body cold and lax against his. She didn’t struggle or open her eyes. His stomach muscles clenched. Not a good sign. Her breath came out in soft puffs, and her eyes moved beneath her lids, as if she was asleep. He struggled at the doorstep but managed to wrestle the keys out of his pants pocket and kick open the door.

      The house was tiny. It consisted of one main room that served as bedroom, kitchen, and living room. The bathroom was at the back of the cabin.

      He had come here a couple of days ago to prepare. There were blankets on his bed, which was situated near the fireplace. Close to the kitchen area was a futon pushed up against the window, which was where Lana was to sleep. His bed stood between hers and the door. He carried her to the futon and laid her down gently. She was sopping wet, and in seconds the bedding was drenched. He got some towels from the bathroom, threw one over her, and began to dry her body. At his touch, she stirred. Her tired, untrusting eyes narrowed at him.

      “What are you doing?” she demanded as she coiled away.

      “You need to dry off and get out of those wet clothes.”

      “Get away from me.” Her voice was rough and sore sounding. A tremor laced her words. Fear? Or from the cold? He strived for a reassuring, patient tone.

      “I’ll leave you alone as soon as you’re in some warm clothes. I have some I took from your house. I need to get them from the car.” She struggled into a fetal position, and pulled her knees to her chest. Her stony gaze stayed trained to the floor. He got to his feet and went to the duffel bag he had brought to the cabin earlier in the week. He pulled out a pair of handcuffs.

      Her eyes grew wide.

      She leapt up from the bed. Her exhaustion made her movements awkward. She pitched forward off the edge, and dove headfirst into the hardwood floor. A squeak split the air as she landed with a thud. He rolled his eyes. God, he needed a drink.

      “You really need to stop getting so worked up. This is exhausting,” he mumbled, as he hoisted her up by her arms and deposited her back on the bed.

      “You need to get a life and not kidnap young women, you pervert.” Despite her breathlessness, her face was hard, daring him.

      “I need to handcuff you while I run out to the car. After that I will uncuff you and you can get dressed.” He snapped one cuff to her wrist and the other to the bed frame. She glared at him.

      He grabbed his car keys and ran out to the truck to get her clothes. A cool breeze blasted him reminding him that he, too, needed to change. The air was cold. January in Seattle was damn near freezing. Lana was going to be a handful. For some reason he had expected her to be quiet and compliant. He hadn’t considered that she would try to escape. Kidnapping was a new concept for him, something he would never do again.

      He returned to the house to find Lana how he had left her, with a scowl still etched on her face. He unlocked the handcuffs and set the clothes down beside her.

      “You should wash off the salt water and get dressed.” He mustered his best no-nonsense tone. It had the opposite effect from what he’d intended.

      “No.” She tossed the clothes to the floor and folded her arms across her chest. The stance showed off her slight frame and tightened the thin white pajama top against her breasts. Her pebble-hard nipples put delicate tents in the material. Heat swirled in his gut.

      “I get that you want to be defiant, but don’t be stupid. You’re likely to catch pneumonia.”

      “If you’re so worried, take me to a hospital.” Her lips pursed.

      His temper ratcheted up a notch. He clenched his teeth.

      “Change your clothes or I’ll do it for you.” He might not be able to force her, but he could damn well scare her.

      “Over my dead body.” Her shrill voice rang in his ears. Her foot jutted out to catch him in the kneecap. It took all of his willpower not to bend her over and slap her ass. He counted to ten. His breath came out slow and even. He’d had a hell of a night, and he wasn’t going to stand here and fight with her another damn minute. He didn’t have the energy for it.

      “That’s fine. Sleep in wet clothes. I don’t care.” He cuffed her back to the bed, grabbed his own clothes, and went into the bathroom to wash off the salt water.

      Good God, she was lucky he wasn’t Stamos! The slimy bastard who had hired him would have relished stripping her naked. She was scared and beyond exhausted, and the fact that she was still putting up a fight was admirable—almost. He stepped out of the shower and dried off. His gaze landed on the bruising ring of teeth marks on his forearm. Blood spotted a few holes, and annoyance spiked his temper all over again. She was tough, he’d give her that, but there was no way in hell she’d get another lucky shot like that.

      He was going to have to keep a close eye on her tonight. Aside from pneumonia, she faced many other risks. Within the first twenty-four hours after a near-drowning, the victim could still die. Her organs could have been flooded with water, causing her kidneys to shut down. He had made her vomit as much as he could, but he had no idea how much seawater she had ingested. Hopefully, she would come to her senses as she lay in a cold, wet bed.

      Something told him she would shiver all night.

      He emerged from the bathroom in dry clothes. His eyes automatically sought her out. She lay curled on her side, the wet blankets tucked around her. The light in the room was dim. A dingy glow shone from the lamp he’d turned on when they’d entered. Dark shadows cast over the room.

      She watched him through heavy lids but made no other attempt at acknowledgment. The blanket was thin, with wet spots visible all over it—more wet than dry. He shook his head. If she froze all night, it would be her own damn fault. Her hair curled over the pillow, her cheek nestled into her palm. She was so soft and sweet. His hands ached to run over her body, to take her full mouth to his. Her lids fluttered, and her long eyelashes finally fell shut. He pulled a bottle of water from his duffel bag and left it on the floor beside her.

      “Lana?” Her lids fluttered again until cerulean-blue eyes found him, her gaze unsteady and unfocused. СКАЧАТЬ