Out of the Fire (Perilous Connections) Read Free

little brother h as cannonballed into my stomach, the air and a rush of intense humiliation or is it pain assails me, I fight to muster my defenses, I stiffen my spine and my outrage makes a timely reappearance.
    I flatten my lips into a hard line, tilt my head to the side, eye him coolly. But a small voice inside my head tells me that a man who kisses a woman like that is not a completely insane maniac at least that is what I want to believe, however my beliefs and reality have not synched up for a while now.
    But I have to know. “What do you want from me?” I was proud of the braggadocio in my voice, if only I was that strong nine months ago, even yesterday.
    He grins , giving me my first full look at white, slightly crooked teeth, the imperfection strikes me as being quirky, charming.
    I squash the thought ruthlessly . I do not care about his crooked teeth or his tan or his kisses … my cheeks burn from the last lie, I hope he doesn’t notice the tell-tale sign beneath my butterscotch colored skin. After all this man is demented and holding me prisoner for crying out loud!
    He rolls a large shoulder, apparently totally disinterested in my blush and outrage. He shoots a glance behind my shoulders, most likely at the door. His gaze swivels backs to me and the implacable hardness has returned. “Get me off the grounds and you will be well compensated.”
    I rock back on my heels, my mouth drops open. Why on earth would a tourist want to go inland? There is nothing there. No servants, no free food and definitely no clean towels that you didn’t launder yourself.
    But he looks unmoved by my reaction, his gaze is intent and … savage. The sea churns mysteriously in his eyes.
    I shake my head. “We have security checkpoints.”
    He snorts in dismissal, the elegant roman nose flaring perfectly. “I’ve seen your security checkpoints and a well-placed diversion is enough to get them to look the other way for long enough.”
    I purse my lips. He is right. Donald is a jerk, a deplorable womanizer who would eye you like a starving dog but just as quickly look the other way for a suitable bribe. I’d even heard of a small coffee table being smuggled through unto the bus but a human male topping, my eyes travel to the top of his head, easily 6’ 4? There was no way I‘d be able to do it, nor did I want to. I start to back away towards the door.
    His deep sigh pierces the throbbing silence between us. “Please don’t try that again …” then his eyes crinkle wickedly, “unless you want to repeat our performance.”
    Fury and a good dose of guilt roars into my ears, my eyes narrow as I glare at his smug expression but I still have to get away and to do that safely I have to calm down, try and appear reasonable to him. I force my face into regretful lines.
    He tosses back his head and shouts with laughter.
    My intentions fly out the door. “You bastard.” The words are out before I can stop them, my hands ball into impotent fists once more.
    He is still chuckling, he ru ns the back of his hand across his forehead, his chest shakes with his suppressed mirth. After several seconds the rumbling dies down.
    I say a prayer that somebody has heard him, has realized that only a maid should be in this vacated room. Several maids had been let go for their willingness to stay overlong in a randy guest’s room.
    He tries to look contrite but fails, worse yet the corners of his mouth twitches with malicious glee, then he goes eerily still, all traces of mirth vanish.
    Fear crawls up my spine once more.
    “Listen little -“
    There were some things that not even hostage-hood would make me tolerate. “Don’t call me that,” I snap.
    He tips his head to the side, eyes me silently for several seconds, the emotions in his face cloaked. “I apologize, no offense was meant.”
    I know he is apologizing because he wants my compliance, and he doesn’t strive to hide it, looking into his eyes I can see the truth, they are hard and