Saved By A Stranger (3 page)

Fog clouded his brain as he tried to
reconstruct where the hell he was. And why he was lying flat on his
back on a bed smelling of lilacs. When he attempted to stand,
coarse rope bit into the skin of his wrists and ankles.
Jesus.

The floorboard was squeaking, the bed shook
slightly, and he scrambled to get his wits together. Someone was
with him in the room.
Think, man, think…
First the failed
hit then the stroke of pure dumb luck. Fuentes’ dogs hot on his
heels, and then…
Liz.

From all the places in this town, he had to
pick her shop to hide. And he had been so good in staying away from
her for the last weeks…

“
Fuck,” he groaned. He must
have completely blacked out when he laid down on her bed. Three
days and nights of no sleep could do that to a man.

“
Oh, you’re awake, that was
rather quick after all.” Her voice came from the foot of the bed.
“How do you feel?”

“
Like shit,” he said, and
groaned as his stomach cramped—no sleep, very little
food.

Eyesight adjusted to the dim light, he
lifted his head a couple of inches. There was a desk in one corner,
a dresser in the other. A reading light on the desk lit up the
room. “When I come around again, we’ll have a serious discussion
about not taking advantage of me when I sleep, Liz.” He gave
another tug at the ropes.

“
Ah,
now
you
remember me, don’t you?”

He inhaled slowly, cursing himself. “Yes, of
course I remember you. But, ropes, really? I’m sorry to say my
first impression of you was wrong. You aren’t exactly the shyly
sweet girl I took you for.”

“
You fail to live up to my
expectations too.”

Fighting a stab of embarrassment at his past
actions, he wished he could tell her the truth. “Believe me, I had
good reasons for walking out on you that day. In fact, it was more
to protect—”

“
I don’t need to be
protected,” she interrupted him. “But I don’t mean
that
day,” she said, now sounding huffy. “I mean today.”

She stood, the sudden movement catching him
unaware and he tensed. She was dressed in dark jeans and a proper
button-down blouse, which she started to undo from the bottom up.
“I really need to get ready for my meeting.”

She was a nuisance, but she started turning
into an interesting one.

“
I think,” she said, and
the blouse sailed away with a flick of her wrist to the top of the
dresser. “We should get to know each other better.”

When he first met her, he’d wanted to cuddle
up with her on the couch and hear her talk, strangely drawn to her
emotionally, now he wanted to push her up against a wall and fuck
her senseless.

She returned to his side, sitting next to
him on the bed, and the swell of her breasts underneath the bra had
him swallowing hard.

“
What?” she asked, her gaze
running over his body. “Are you not up to it?”

Oh, he was up to it all right.

“
Just kidding.”

Of course.

She unclasped her bra, her breasts bouncing
free.

“
Liz,” he said, surprised
to hear that his voice had turned hoarse, “This is not
cool.”

“
I’ll take a shower,” she
said, “don’t run away.”

She laughed, breathlessly, and he watched
her walk into the adjoining bathroom. She probably thought she’d
made a joke by telling him not to run away.

He took another deep breath, closing his
eyes. The shower started rumbling and he pictured himself joining
her under the water, soaping that lush body of hers all over,
taking extra care of her breasts. Damn, he’d wanted to weigh her
breasts in his hands, caress each fat nipple.

Giving the ropes a harder tug, he stretched,
feeling a great deal better. The power nap had done the trick. And
those knots were a joke, would only take a few moments to undo.

Best not to tell her.

He would stay put until she left for
whatever important meeting she had. Then he’d get his ass away from
her—at least for the next couple of days—since she proved to be too
much distraction. He’d go see Simon tomorrow, and once everything
was in the clear, he could pay her a visit, explain and say
mea
culpa
.

The water stopped and he imagined how she’d
towel her arms, breasts, stomach, thighs dry. The thought alone
made his cock twitch.

Light filtered from the bathroom and he
glanced up when she stepped into the bedroom again. She’d wrapped
herself in a white towel. He watched her as best he could from his
limited viewpoint.

“
I’ll be back in an hour or
so, I think,” she said, and started to get dressed.

“
I guess you want me to
wait for your safe return?”

He adjusted his posture on the bed to keep
an eye on her. She dressed as efficiently as she had undressed
herself. A pair of black panties hugged her bottom and a black bra
held her breasts. He itched to undo the knots, to get up and throw
her onto the bed just for the fun of seeing her reaction.

“
Where are you
going?”

“
I’ll tell you if you tell
me why you were running? No? Thought so.”

He leaned back deeper into the mattress,
enjoying the show while it lasted. Even watching her get dressed
was a turn-on. When she was done, she looked like a prim and proper
bank clerk, wearing a sensible skirt and blouse combo.

She threw stuff into a shoulder bag and then
turned to face him.

Her eyes had a haunted glaze he didn’t
like—as if something tormented her—and he suddenly wanted nothing
more than to take her in his arms and hold her tight.

“
Liz, whatever happens, I
want to see you again, wanted to see you again for the last three
weeks.” He held her gaze, willing her to trust him. “But there are
some things I have to deal with first and in order to protect
you—”

“
I don’t need to be
protected.” She shouldered her bag and the door swung
shut.

He waited another five minutes to be on the
safe side then flexed his muscles and jerked on the ropes. The
flimsy wooden headboard gave way as did the footboard. Wood
splinters littered the bed and floor as he untied himself. His skin
was chafed raw, but nothing a few days wouldn’t heal. He had at
least an hour until she came back, enough time to take a quick
shower.

After he climbed out of the shower, taking a
sniff at her shampoo, he dressed and made a turn around the small
bedroom, opening her dresser, looking in her wardrobe.

The printer was flashing red and he tugged
at the stuck paper, heard it tear. It was an invitation addressed
to her, but the name that stood out made his blood freeze.

With two large steps, he was at his clothes,
picked up his jacket.

The notebook was gone.

He kicked the wooden bedpost and sharp pain
shot through his bare foot. “Shit, shit, shit.”

She had taken the book and, if he wasn’t
mistaken, she was returning it to its owner right this minute. He
should have killed that bastard when he’d had the chance. He
grabbed the gun and holstered it.

Why she was doing this, he didn’t know, but,
hell, he’d find out.

Chapter Five

She stepped onto the bus, clutching her bag.
The bus driver gave her a toothy grin as if he knew her; he
probably did. In an effort to save, she’d sold her car three months
ago and regularly used public transport. The money from the sale
had covered her last two months’ rent.

After giving the bus driver the exact fare,
she sank into her seat.

She opened her bag and took out the book
she’d found in Ben’s jacket. After she’d gone through his stuff,
she’d packed it into her bag. She just wanted to give it another
look. He would never know. She’d return it when she came back to
him.

Flipping the book open, she found again the
sharp handwriting and tried to decipher the apparently Spanish
words, interrupted by small but beautiful doodles of flowers. Ben
had a knack at drawing, but the sketches had such a girlish slant
to it that it made her uncomfortable.

She stored the book away in her bag, mindful
not to bend any pages.

Stop after stop, she drew closer, then
exited the bus.

The five-star hotel rose in front of her
like a shining beacon against the dark sky. With any luck, her
homemade miniature cupcakes would soon rest beautifully wrapped on
top of Egyptian cotton sheet pillows. With any luck, she’d snatch
the contract to be one of the suppliers to deliver goods to Mr.
Fuentes’ hotels all over the world.

If not, well, she’d rather not think about
it.

Perfumed air enveloped her as she walked
into the huge lobby, her heels sinking deeply into an oriental
carpet. Before she could ask for directions, she spotted the event
signage.

The entrepreneur meeting was set to start at
seven sharp inside conference rooms next to the hotel bar, where
she, as the invitation had spelled out, could enjoy a complimentary
glass of champagne.

More than half an hour late, she quickly
followed the signage leading away from the main entrance, heels now
efficiently clicking over hardwood floors.

According to the schedule, she’d missed the
introduction. But the important part was her eight o’clock
appointment.

The membership for Entrepreneur Today was
hefty, but tonight would make it all worth it. She’d spent three
weeks preparing her business model.

When she’d been selected as one of the few
to speak with Mr. Fuentes, after paying a fortune for the
opportunity, she spent an entire week basking in hope and
plans.

If only she could snatch the contract, if
only… Her bank would extend her credit and she could stay and
invest more in her endeavor to slowly take over the world with her
cupcakes.

“
Liz Walker,” she said,
stopping in front of the reception, crossing her fingers no one
would ask her for the actual printed-out invitation.

“
Glad you could make it,
Ms. Walker,” replied the woman behind the desk, wearing oversized
earrings that seemed out of place next to her sensible pantsuit,
and handed her a nametag. “You’re next on my list for the chat with
Mr. Fuentes.”

She sauntered through the room, ignoring the
steaming food at the buffet, and kept her gaze locked on the
meeting room. Inside, a small-shouldered man dressed in an
immaculate pinstriped suit held court, and even though he wasn’t a
large man, his narrow face and his gray eyes behind rimmed glasses
showed sharp intelligence and a certain strength.

He was shaking the hand of another
entrepreneur who had his hopes in his hands, and then, finally, it
was her time.

When she walked into the room, he rose to
shake her hand.

“
I’ve been looking forward
to meeting you, Ms. Walker,” he said by way of greeting.

“
Liz, please,” she replied,
shaking his hand.

“
Angelo,” he said, and she
took a seat in front of his desk and produced her wrapped samples.
“I’m aware you’ve read my business plan, but I thought you might
want to taste what I am all about.”

Carefully, she placed the handmade box
filled with small cupcakes on his desk.

“
Thank you,” he said, his
gaze on the samples and, strangely, an expression of disgust
rippled over his face, his lips pursed. “I do not have a sweet
tooth, but, luckily for you, my guests have.”

She nodded, straightened her slumped
shoulders and tried not to feel hurt by his offhand manner.

“
I understand,” he said,
“that your business is in dire straits?”

She’d been careful to make her business
sound frugal and successful, with no word had she mentioned her
current financial situation. “How—”

“
My time is valuable,” he
said, holding up a hand, “so I make it a habit to find out as much
information about my possible suppliers in advance.”

“
Well, I wouldn’t call my
situation dire—”

“
There is no shame in
having trouble finding financiers. Traditional banks can be
unreasonable at times.”

Damn right they could. Thinking about her
last bank appointment and the still unopened letters on her desk,
she didn’t even want to know what they were threatening her
with.

“
Why don’t we make a turn
about the hotel, Liz? I want to show you what I am all
about.”

He rose from his seat, shuffling papers in
front of him, and tucked a document folder under his arm.

“
Will you need my
assistance, sir?”

Her heart stopped short as someone stepped
out of seemingly nowhere. She stared at the man who towered a head
over Mr. Fuentes.

It was
Brickwall
.

Where the hell had he come from?

“
Why would I need your
assistance?” he answered. “Because you’ve been so useful
today?”

The guy let his head hang like a scolded
dog. “It was an unfortunate incident and I’m sure we’ll get—”

“
Go and report to Drake. He
needs as many resources he can get.”

“
But you’ll be
without—”

“
One should think that I’m
safe inside my own hotel,” he replied, a hard edge in his
voice.

“
I won’t disappoint you
again and—”

“
You’d better
not.”

She glanced over her shoulder while walking
out of the room. He hadn’t recognized her, but she know knew that
he was
not
from the DEA.