Rude Awakening (23 page)

BOOK: Rude Awakening

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“Come with me.”

Bishop made for the hotel’s rear, dragging Fallan behind him. She stumbled several times trying to keep up with him, pulling against his hold, tiny whimpers coming out of her. He forced himself to remember she was acting, that she’d been paid to do just this, and made her walk faster. Once at his car, he shoved her inside, strapping her into the passenger seat.

“Don’t even think about getting out.”

She stared up at him, eyes full of fear, and he almost felt sorry for her. Maybe she was new to this game. Maybe this was her first job. Whatever, it shouldn’t matter to him, shouldn’t be something he even thought about, but he had and would have to address that when he had some downtime. Marks weren’t supposed to get to you. Marks were meant to be removed from the equation—quickly, easily, no mess. Marks weren’t meant to sit in your bloody car and look at you in that way, melting the ice around your damn heart until you convinced yourself they were telling the truth.

Fuck it!

He slammed the door, rounded the bonnet and climbed into the driver’s side. With the engine revving, he swerved out of his parking space, making a mental note to call the hotel in the morning and check out. They could send along his bag containing a few changes of clothes, toothbrush, deodorant and shower gel, but, then again, it might be safer if they didn’t. There was nothing he needed desperately, nothing he’d mind being without. The waiter having something to do with this… No, they could keep his bag and send it to the address he’d booked in with.

Out on the main road, Fallan silent beside him, he eased his foot to the floor, conscious of the pinprick headlights behind them. If he put his mind to it, he’d lose that bastard and take Fallan to his flat in London, deal with her there and have his boss send someone to remove her body.

“I heard that if you do as you’re told,” she said quietly, “an abductor is less likely to kill you.”

He frowned, eyeing the rear-view mirror again. What the fuck had made her say that? “I heard that if you work for dodgy outfits, you’re more likely to get killed than if you worked for a company like, say, Asda.”

He wanted to laugh again but held it back, concentrating on the distance between his car and the one behind. It was gaining on him.
Fuck.

“I swear,” she said, “I don’t know what you mean. I won that break away. Won it!”

“How? Where did you apply?” He may as well humour her.

“It was a treasure hunt thing. Offer came through the post. Several people each won a weekend away at different locations, and each of us had to hide some treasure. Shit, I wish I’d never applied now, but I couldn’t afford a holiday and it seemed the perfect thing to do. And I didn’t expect to win. Didn’t think I had a cat in hell’s chance and I—”

“Be quiet.” He needed to think. Either she was a pro or she was telling the truth.

Something inside him leaned towards the latter.

Jesus Christ, this is all I need. Some innocent caught up in this crap.

He gritted his teeth, jaw muscles pulsing, and looked in the rear-view again.

The car was getting closer.

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About the Authors

Natalie Dae is a multi-published author in three pen names writing several genres. She lives with her husband, children, and three cats in an English village. She writes full time and is also a cover artist and blog designer. In another life she was an editor. Her other pen names are Sarah Masters and Charley Oweson.

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Sam Crescent has always had a love of fiction; through her teen years she would find friendship between the pages rather than in an actual person. By the time she turned sixteen she discovered Mills and Boon and never looked back. She loved the quick happily-ever-after read. A guarantee that, no matter what happened, the heroes and heroines would always find their soulmate. After college and starting a degree, one lonely, bored night she searched the internet looking for a new author to read. On that night, and in the years to come, she discovered romantica and erotic writing.