Hot Ice Read Free

business. Business was brutal.
    If she had to screw the brains out of every cop in this godforsaken city to find out where the woman was being held, she vowed she'd do it.
    Theresa was proud of the small elegant black rose tattooed on the small of her back. One day soon she would have more petals added, and she'd be the Black Rose. Until then she'd do her job, and do it well. And when the time came, she'd carve that full-blown rose tattoo off the current Black Rose's skin.
    She opened the car door, slid behind the wheel, and buckled up for safety as she pulled out of the dark lot. For more immediate gratification, she thought of the thief's big black eyes, that smooth, dusky skin, and decided she'd leave the girl's face for last.
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    Chapter Three

     
    "Hear me now, do you, sweetheart?" A man said softly in the darkness.
    Well, yeah . He'd just knocked down the wall and his shoes crunched in the grit on the floor as he walked toward her. Hard to miss. Taylor stayed where she was, the chains loosely covering her body, wondering if he could see she'd managed to free herself already? Nah. Too dark.
    She twisted her body in the direction of his voice. Rancid air wafted through what she presumed was a hole in the wall. Stink had never smelled so good. "The cavalry, I presume?" she whispered.
    "Something like that." His deep voice was rich and gravelly, his tone dry, and vaguely British.
    She had no clue who he could be. Had the woman who'd approached her this morning sent him? It was the only logical explanation. She didn't know anyone in San Cristóbal. Or rather, she didn't know anyone who should know she was in jail. She didn't need or want a partner, and she'd repeat what she'd told Theresa Smallwood this morning, as soon as he got her the hell out of here.
    He crouched down beside her before she realized he was that close. Wow. Impressive . He moved like a cat. A big, strong, powerful cat.
    "Are you badly hurt?" he asked, hands moving over the chains. "Where's the start of this thing?"
    "I'll live. They didn't have me quite as secure as they thought." Taylor shrugged the chains off her shoulders and staggered to her feet. He grabbed her upper arm as she swayed. The pounding in her head made her teeth ache, and she was grateful for the steadiness of the large hand holding her upright.
    The cell was as dark as the black hole of Calcutta, but even though she couldn't see him, she could feel the heat of his large body beside her. She had an irrational urge to let her head drop to his chest. Only for a moment. The novelty of someone rescuing her shouldn't be wasted. Instead of succumbing, Taylor locked her knees. Air fanned across her face. He had, she guessed, waved a hand in front of her nose.
    "Can you see me?" he whispered.
    Lord he smelled good, she thought absently. For an instant her pulse accelerated with a purely female response. Then her survival instincts kicked back in. "Of course not," she whispered back. "It's pitch—" she tilted her head. "Can you see me?"
    "Yeah. Even without the nvg's."
    Night vision glass. Excellent. He was a regular Boy Scout. She stuck out her hand. "Let me try the glasses." He dropped the nvg's into her palm.
    "It's possible your jailers won't have heard the wall of Jericho tumbling," he whispered sarcastically as Taylor fumbled to bring the glasses to her eyes. He reached out and turned them right side up in her hands without pausing. "It's possible they won't turn around and come right back and check on you again. It's also possible that someone won't come back into the alley to take a leak. All of that's possible. Like to stick around and tempt fate?"
    She blinked a couple of times to clear her vision. Blinked again. No amount of blinking helped. She heard him through the thick buzz in her ears, vaguely computed what he was saying as her mouth went dry. She curled her fingers around the hard plastic of the nvg's, squeezed her eyes shut. Opened them.
    And sucked in a horrified