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Authors: Desiree Holt

Tags: #Erotica

Feel the Heat (27 page)

BOOK: Feel the Heat
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“What did Andy have to say?” Mark wanted to know.

“He was about to shoot the same list to us.” Dan looked at the notes on his tablet. His mouth twisted in a wry grin. “Except, of course, he also discovered not only that they’re all rental cars, but he also gave me the names of the agencies and who rented them. I’m sending the info to everyone’s phone.”

Mark stood up and pulled on his lightweight jacket. “I’ll hit the car places. See what we can find out about the men who signed for the vehicles.”

“Mike, anything on any of the other patients that you’ve found?” Troy asked.

“I wish.” Mike pointed at the list on the screen of the laptop he was working at. “She keeps very good notes but I haven’t run across anything that sticks out at me. I’ll keep at it. Keep feeding it to Andy. And let us know what you find out with the Hausers.”

“Will do. Meanwhile I’ll see if Kat can come up with anything based on what little we’ve got.”

“And I’ll be command central here,” Dan told him. His eyes met Troy’s. “We’ll get her back. Soon and in one piece. It’s what we do.”

Troy couldn’t say anything, his throat had closed so tightly with emotion. He just picked up his keys and headed out of the house with Rick, Mark close behind them.

 

Chapter Thirteen

 

“I’m not going anywhere else with you,” Lauren snapped. Her brain was finally waking up. “I want to know where we’re going and who is responsible for this. Right now.”

The man called Reid unbuckled her seat belt and lifted her from her seat by her elbows.

“I don’t like to manhandle women,” he told her, his face expressionless, “but I have a job to do and delivering you is part of it. We can either do this nicely, or I can knock you out and take you that way.” He reached into a pocket in his jacket and lifted a tube containing a syringe. “Your choice.”

The thought of being unconscious again, of not having control of herself, frightened her even more than what might await her at her final destination.

She lifted her chin. “Fine. I’ll go. But I want some answers as soon as we get there.”

Neither of the men said a word to Lauren as they hustled her across the tarmac to the waiting helicopter. The interior of the cabin surprised her. She hadn’t thought helicopters came outfitted so luxuriously. But this was just a smaller version of the very high-end plane she’d been flying on.

Reid nudged her to one of the leather seats and buckled her in. As the helo lifted off, she took in once again the luxury of the cabin. Whoever had “sent” for her obviously had an unlimited amount of money to spend. She ran her fingers over the brass logo embedded in the wall of the cabin. Sikorsky. She’d heard of them. Maybe read about them somewhere. She knew they made helicopters for the military.

But this was no stripped-down bird. This one smelled of big money.

The two men buckled themselves into vacant seats, neither one of them engaging her in conversation. That was fine with her. She’d save her questions for when she finally met whoever had set this all in motion.

The helo lifted off and her stomach dropped momentarily, then settled as the aircraft did. Lauren tried to distract herself by looking out the cabin window and guessing where in the United States they were. The landscape below her showed a decent-sized town before morphing into mountains and valleys and giant trees. The flight from San Antonio had been just over two hours, but she didn’t know if they’d flown east or west.

Before she found any distinguishing characteristics, they came over a mountain ridge and her breath caught at the sight. A mammoth stone house rose from lush forests, its many windows reflecting the sunlight. Surrounding it was grass greener than she’d ever seen and landscaping that looked as if a crew of gardeners spent all their time maintaining it. There were several outbuildings, as well as a large concrete pad near the house. A high wall surrounded the house and the manicured lawn, but Lauren also saw it stretching into the forest.

Was this to keep the owner in or other people out? What kind of person needed this kind of security? And talk about money! Lauren had been in the homes of wealthy clients before, but this defied anything she’d ever seen.

As they swooped in over the property, she saw two men exit the house and stand at attention on the patio, their posture almost military. But the thing that really caught her attention was the rifles they held across their bodies, ready for use. Did they plan to shoot her? But why bring her all the way here just for that? No, there was something else going on.

Fear began to thread itself through her. Whoever owned this definitely had more money than a small country, and certainly the power that came with it, but what did he want with her? And how could Troy and the others even find her in such an isolated and protected place?

She was still trying to sort things out in her mind when the helicopter hovered over the concrete pad and slowly set down. The man called Reid unfastened his seat belt and motioned for her to do the same. The other one, Fred, slid open the cabin door and jumped down to help her out.

When she was on the ground she took a deep breath, wondering what was coming next. She stared at the house and the two armed men standing there, a bank of French doors behind them. One of the doors opened and a man dressed in black shirt and trousers emerged, walking toward her with purposeful strides. He was a large man, bulky but not fat, with very broad shoulders and long legs. His dark hair was shot with silver, his jaw slightly elongated, and from behind wireless glasses light-colored eyes shot her a piercing look. Despite his size, he moved with a certain animal grace. As he came closer, she sensed the enormous power that radiated from him. This was a man used to getting his own way. As he approached, Lauren tried to read his face, but he wore no expression at all.

Until he stood right before her. Then his lips shifted to a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. He held out a hand to her.

“Miss Cahill? Kurt Olberman. I am very pleased to welcome you to my home.”

The name meant nothing to her. Whatever circles he moved in didn’t touch hers. She ignored his outstretched hand and dug deep for courage. “I demand to know who you are and why I’ve been kidnapped and brought here. And I want to go home. Now.”

She thrust her hands into the pockets of her jeans to hide their trembling. She had no idea who this man was but she automatically sensed that he’d pounce on any sign of weakness.

He let his hand fall back to his side, his mouth still stretched in a phony smile. But the pale-green eyes he assessed her with looked cold and cruel. There was no warmth or friendliness there.

Don’t panic. Don’t show him fear.

“Why am I here?” she asked again.

“Come into my house. Please. I’ll explain everything.”

She took a step back. “I have no intention of going inside with you. I want you to send me home right now.”

He reached out and gripped her elbow with his fingers, digging into the soft flesh and exerting just enough pressure to make her wince.

“We’ll get along much better and things will move much faster if you just do as I ask.” He squeezed just a little harder. “Do we understand each other?”

Lauren wanted to tell him she didn’t understand anything, but he didn’t wait for her answer. He moved toward the house, his grip tight, literally forcing her along with him.

They entered through the open door, the tall man nodding to the two sentries with Fred and Reid right behind them. Lauren found herself in an enormous living room with hardwood flooring and pristine white walls. She looked around, trying to take in as many details as she could. Beyond the massive living room was a dining room just as large. A hallway led into the living room, and that was where Olberman hustled her now until they reached a built-in elevator.

He pressed a button, his grip on her still firm.

“Only a few more moments,” he assured her in a voice that could have been cut from steel. “Then I’ll explain everything.”

Lauren tried to swallow but her throat was too dry. Her heart was beating so ferociously, she was sure Olberman could hear it. Whatever he was about to tell her, she was sure it wasn’t good. For her anyway.

The elevator rose smoothly, its doors sliding open noiselessly to a suite of offices. He marched her past the reception area and through another office where a woman sat behind a large desk working at a computer. She looked up when Olberman and Lauren passed by her, then returned to her work. Was this a normal occurrence? Lauren wondered. Did he often kidnap people and bring them here? What else did he do?

Then they were in what was obviously the man’s private office. His inner sanctum. Two walls were paneled with polished wood, while a third was floor-to-ceiling windows looking out over his estate. Surveying his kingdom, Lauren thought. The floor in here was also hardwood, with an Aubusson rug centered on it exactly. What kind of man was this? One who obviously never took no for an answer.

He urged her to sit on a long plush leather couch against one wall. Lifting a file folder from his desk, he dropped into one of the armchairs, resting an ankle on the opposite knee and balancing the file on his leg.

“You have quite an interesting history, Lauren Cahill.”

She gave an involuntary gasp and he smiled in satisfaction.

“Oh yes. I’ve been tracking you for a long time. You have a rare and special gift that interests me very much.”

Her healing. Was that what this was about? But why go to such extreme lengths?

She cleared her throat. “Could I please have a drink of water?”

His smile was more a twisting of facial muscles than an expression of emotion. “Of course. Where are my manners?”

He rose, opened a door built into the paneling to reveal a small refrigerator and handed her a bottle of chilled liquid. Lauren took her time twisting off the cap and taking small sips. She just wished she could figure out a way to handle the fear that continued to build inside her. Slowly, she replaced the cap and curled her fingers around the bottle.

“Mr. Olberman, if someone close to you is ill and you need my particular gift, all you had to do was pick up the phone and call me. That’s what normal people do. Why wasn’t that an option for you?”

His laugh held no humor. The sound of it sent a chill skating along Lauren’s spine.

“You think that’s what I want? For you to heal someone in my family? Someone close to me?”

She frowned, her fingers tightening on the water bottle. “Then what? I don’t understand any of this. And why did you have to kidnap me?”

He re-crossed his legs. “Because, my dear, if I had told you what I have in mind, you’d never have agreed to it.”

The sliver of fear was turning into a large blade and slicing right through her.

Lauren folder her hands in her lap and said in as normal a voice as she could manage, “And exactly what is it you want?”

He stared at her with those pale-green eyes. “Why, to sell your services for phenomenal amounts of money, of course.”

Lauren’s jaw dropped. “You want to hire me out to people?”

He shifted position and leaned forward slightly, his eyes glittering with greed. “Do you have any idea what people will pay for what you do? There are kings and sheikhs and private billionaires who have dying relatives whom you can cure. The opportunities are endless.”

She forced a calm she was far from feeling. “Mr. Olberman, I don’t ever charge for my services. And I choose the people I use my gift for. It’s not something that goes to the highest bidder.”

“But all that is about to change. And I’ll be happy to share with you as long as you get with the program.”

Lauren wished she could make her brain work better. She realized she was in the company of a madman, and she had to proceed carefully.

“Why didn’t you just come to my home to discuss this with me?” she asked.

“Two reasons.” He leaned back in his chair, tapping the file against his thigh. “First, I knew you wouldn’t agree to my plan, and second, to make this work you must stay here. All the time.”

If what she’d felt before was fear, now she was gripped with real terror.

“Stay here? You mean as in never leave?”

He nodded. “That’s the only way it can work. Oh let me assure you, I have the finest suite of rooms prepared for you. And whatever you need, I can provide. Anything. You just have to name it.”

“What I need is to go home and back to my life. This is an impossible situation.” She pushed herself up from the couch but Olberman moved into her space, blocking her.

“Sit down.” He snapped the words out, a command. “And don’t move until I say you can.”

His words hit her body with the impact of bullets as his large body loomed over her. Sitting down was probably a good thing, because her legs were trembling so badly she wasn’t sure they could hold her. She eased herself back down onto the butter-soft leather, trying to hold herself together. Olberman resumed his seat in the chair.

“Some facts for you to understand and accept.” He ticked them off on his fingers one by one. “You will not be allowed to leave here except on my plane, with my bodyguards, to transport you to wherever your services are required. You will not try to leave here. My security, both human and electronic, is second to none. And you will use your gift when and how I order it. And for as long as I wish. Do you understand what I just said?”

“I understand, but—”

“But nothing.”

“You plan to just keep me prisoner here?” She could hardly breathe. “Not let me leave? But I have a life. People and things to get back to.”

“That part of your life is over. Accept it. This is your life, from now and forward.”

“There are people who will be looking for me,” she said defiantly. “They’ll find me.”

“I think not.” He leaned forward slightly. “I know all about your previous Phoenix Agency friends. Believe me, my men are far superior to them. They’ll never find you or be able to help you. I promise you that.”

Lauren struggled with the panic surging through her.

“I can’t simply use my gift at will,” she protested. “That’s one of the reasons I choose my patients so carefully. With some people, the situation is such that psychic healing does no good.”

BOOK: Feel the Heat
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