Seduced by His Target (7 page)

His eyes turned even blacker. He closed the distance between them, but she held her ground, refusing to budge. “Stay in the hut, Nadine. Don’t try to escape.”

“Or what?” she taunted. “You’ll kill me?” She let out a high-pitched laugh.

His big hands gripped her shoulders. He gave her a shake, fueling her temper even more.

But then his mouth was on hers. She froze, utterly shocked, the feel of him slaying her senses—the warmth of his hard lips, the scrape of his sandpapery jaw, the strength in his massive hands. A thought sprang up, that she needed to resist this, but it vanished like smoke in the wind.

Pleasure jolted her veins. Her knees wobbled, threatening to collapse. Sensations collided inside her, bursts of heat and need, and a raw, primal delirium more acute than anything she’d ever experienced, wiping every coherent thought from her head. Her body swayed into his, the intensity of her response overwhelming, sending thrills skipping and swirling through her veins.

But just as abruptly, he broke away. Breathing hard, she stared into his eyes. They were hot, hungry, furious.

Oh, God. What had she done?
She’d just kissed her enemy.
She’d responded to him with total abandon, with a frenzy she couldn’t contain. Even now she wanted those big, rough hands on every part of her. She spun around, appalled.

“I’m warning you,” he rasped from behind her. “Don’t try to leave.”

It took her several seconds to find her voice. “Or what?”

“Just don’t, Nadine.”

The door thudded closed. Still breathing hard, she turned around. But Rasheed was gone.

Chapter 5

W
hy had Rasheed kissed her?

That question still ricocheted through Nadine’s mind the next day as they resumed their trek down the mountain, following a river toward the valley below. She’d spent half the night tossing and turning, reliving every thrilling moment of that shocking kiss, until she’d finally surrendered to exhaustion and slept. And even now, when she should be plotting an escape plan, when they’d nearly reached the town of Buena Fortuna, where Henry’s journey would come to a deadly end, that blasted kiss kept derailing her thoughts. His intriguing scent, the rough insistence of his mouth, the glorious feel of his steel-hard muscles pressed against her... The memories kept inundating her senses, making it impossible to concentrate.

She doubted it had meant anything important to him. He’d probably suffered a fleeting lapse, succumbing to a heat-of-the-moment impulse prompted by their argument. But the question that really plagued her was why she’d kissed him back.

Twisting in the saddle, she aimed a quick glance back his way. He sat astride his horse, one lean hand gripping the reins, the other holding Henry in place. He looked like a Wild West outlaw with those inscrutable black eyes, the stubble coating his rugged jaw, the hard angles of his lethal frame.

The thing that really perplexed her was that she didn’t usually go for men like him. Aside from the glaring fact that he was a criminal, that he was consorting with men who intended to kill her, he was too overtly masculine for her tastes. She preferred less physical, more cerebral men.

But maybe the kidnapping had peeled away her defenses. Maybe her instincts had taken over, and she’d clung to him out of a primitive, survival-of-the-fittest type of need.

She rolled her eyes. He was
fit,
all right—the most virile man she’d ever seen.

Regardless, she couldn’t deny that his kiss had set off a delirium of sensual awareness—which only compounded her doubts. Could she really have responded that way to a
terrorist?
Even given the abnormal situation, could a criminal cause that insane need? And if he wasn’t a terrorist, then who was he? Why had he rescued her, twice? And what job did he have to do? Did he mean delivering her to her father...or something else?

She turned back to the trail with a sigh. At this point, it didn’t matter. She had to forget the kiss, forget the hormones tossing her equilibrium on end, and focus on helping Henry escape—before they reached Buena Fortuna and his time ran out.

A moment later, they reached a ridge, and Manzoor brought his horse to a stop. Nadine followed suit and dismounted while the men headed to a grassy space to pray. With a groan, she stretched her legs, then joined Henry at a boulder overlooking the valley below.

“How are you doing?” she asked him.

His faded blue eyes met hers. “Better. My head still hurts, but the altitude sickness is gone. At least I’m not gasping for breath every time I walk a couple of feet.”

“Your color’s good. Your lips aren’t blue anymore.” Which meant his blood oxygen was probably close to normal again. The lower altitude had definitely helped.

But he still looked exhausted with those dark circles rimming his bloodshot eyes. And he had to avoid sudden movements or he’d make his concussion worse. Frowning, she settled beside him on the rock, her anxiety kicking up even more. Because the real question was, if his life hung in the balance, could he find the strength to run?

“It looks like we’re almost to a town,” Henry said, gesturing toward the valley with his canteen.

“It’s called Buena Fortuna.” Worried, she turned her gaze to the town below. “The men said we were heading there.”

The small town lay at the bottom of the cordillera along a tributary of the river they’d been following all day. The slopes closest to the town were bare. Mud slides had washed away the deforested topsoil, leaving ugly brown scabs covering the hills.

The town itself was a frontier settlement, a jumping-off place for people heading into the jungle, a small trading hub where farmers hauled their coca paste and sold it to the drug cartel. The mountainous coca-growing region lay to its west. Brazil was to the east, Colombia to the north. Just outside of town was an airstrip, a coffee-colored slash carved out of the jungle, a simple dirt runway with half a dozen warehouses sprawled nearby. The planes picked up the paste and flew it to Colombia to the cocaine processing labs.

Aside from the airstrip, the town didn’t consist of much, only a few unpaved roads lined with wooden shacks. The bulk of the buildings hugged the river snaking through the valley floor, its sluggish water the same muddy brown as the anacondas lurking in the jungle nearby.

“So what’s the plan?” Henry asked, meeting her gaze.

She shot a quick glance back at their captors, but they were still busy doing their prayers. “We need to make a break for it when we reach the town.”

His gray eyebrows gathered into a frown. “You don’t think we can reason with them? I thought they wanted a ransom.”

She hesitated, not wanting to confess the truth, that these men were going to kill him because of her. Knowing Henry, he’d try to do something heroic to help her, sacrificing himself to keep her safe. “That’s what I thought at first, but I heard... I got the impression they might harm us when we reach the town.”

“That doesn’t make sense. Why did they kidnap us then?”

“You’re right. It doesn’t make any sense.” And neither did the hope she couldn’t quite extinguish, that Rasheed might still turn out to be a good guy and come to their aid. Exasperated, she pushed him out of her mind. “But even if they don’t hurt us, once we get into the jungle it’s going to be harder to escape. We could get lost and wander around for weeks. This could be our only chance.”

Henry’s gaze held hers, his blue eyes thoughtful now. “Is there something you’re not telling me? I get the impression that there’s more to this kidnapping than you’ve let on.”

“Of course not.” She tried to sound convincing. “I’m just saying that we need to escape when we reach the town.”

“All right.” His eyes still doubtful, he looked toward the valley again. “You think we can find someone to help us?”

“I doubt it. The drug cartel probably controls the town. Most of the people probably work for them. And the ones who don’t will be too afraid to help.”

“So what do you suggest?”

Considering that, she studied the town. She couldn’t see a highway leading out of the jungle. People arrived mainly by plane or boat. And since the drug smugglers operated the airplanes...

“We need to get on a boat.”

“How? I don’t have any money, do you?”

“No,” she admitted, her own doubts mounting. “Maybe we can stow away.”

A soft thud sounded behind her. Tensing, she jerked around.
Rasheed.
He stood with his hands braced on his hips, his piercing gaze skewering hers. “It’s time to go.”

Uneasy, she bit her lip. Had he overheard them? Would he try to stop them if he had? She tried to read his expression, but as usual, she couldn’t glean any clues.

“So soon?” She hedged. “Can’t we stay here and rest a little longer?” She needed more time to plan.

“No. We need to go.”

The other men headed toward them, the purpose in their steps impossible to miss. This was it—the moment of truth. Her time was finally up. In a few short hours they’d reach Buena Fortuna, and she’d have one chance, one shot to help Henry escape.

And if she failed, her friend would die.

* * *

By the time they arrived at Buena Fortuna three hours later, Nadine’s stomach was in total rebellion, her nerves wound so tightly she wanted to retch. She scanned the murky river gliding past, the hodgepodge of boats thronging its shore—rafts, canoes, thatch-roofed vessels piled high with cargo of every sort. Wooden huts crowded the banks, perched haphazardly on logs, as if they’d washed ashore during a flood and gotten marooned in the debris.

They crossed the wooden bridge into town, the stench of rotting garbage strong in the air. Barefoot children stared at them from the buildings’ shadows. Women washing clothes in the river shot them furtive glances, then turned away, confirming what Nadine had guessed. People minded their own business in a lawless town like this. No one would stick his neck out on their behalf—not when the price for interfering could be death.

Manzoor took the lead, steering their group down the main street through town, scattering chickens and a litter of pigs. They rode past fishermen selling piranhas and
paiche,
peasants squatting beside plastic tarps laden with jungle fruit. And with every step, Nadine became more convinced that the river was their only way out. They’d have to sneak aboard a boat, hide amidst the cargo and pray it got underway before the terrorists realized where they’d gone.

But they had to get away from their captors first.

She glanced at Rasheed riding on her right, Manzoor on the horse ahead, his white turban bright in the sun. Amir hugged her other side, riding so close that his horse kept jostling hers. They’d hemmed her in once they’d crossed the bridge, as if anticipating that she’d try to run.

Several minutes later, they arrived at the airstrip on the jungle side of town. She skimmed the deserted runway, the metal warehouses baking in the sweltering heat, and her nerves neared the breaking point. No one was around to see them. No one would hear a cry for help. She and Henry were on their own.

“Get down,” Manzoor ordered, dismounting.

Trying to keep a lid on her rising panic, Nadine slid off her horse. What if she’d waited too long? What if they couldn’t escape? Henry’s death would be her fault.

“Over here.” Manzoor strode to a metal shed and opened the door. She hesitated, searching frantically for another option, but Amir rammed his gun into her back. Her throat dry, she followed Henry across the dirt-packed lot.

“Get inside. Both of you,” he ordered.

Her palms began to sweat. She shot a pleading glance back at Rasheed, but his face was still expressionless, his eyes remote.
So much for rescuing her.
Feeling ridiculously disappointed, she followed Henry into the shed. Manzoor shut the door and threw the bolt.

For a moment she couldn’t breathe. She stood in the stifling hut, perspiration running down her back, desperation threatening to do her in. Why hadn’t Rasheed helped her? Why hadn’t he come to her aid this one last time? How could he stand by and do nothing as an innocent man got killed?

She pulled herself back to reality, knowing she couldn’t waste energy on wishful thoughts. Their survival was up to her now. She had to get them out of this mess.

Blotting the sweat stinging her eyes, she glanced around. The shed had a metal floor, a corrugated tin roof and a small, filthy window beside the door. She walked over, rubbed the dirt from the glass with her sleeve and peeked outside.

She couldn’t see the men—only their horses—but she could hear them arguing nearby. She pressed her ear to the glass, catching words in Jaziirastani: horses, stable, gunshots, shed. Her throat clammed up, her worst fears materialized. They were arguing about where to kill Henry—and this shed was the perfect spot.

Then Rasheed and Manzoor came into view, leading the horses across the lot. Halfway across it Rasheed paused, his gaze meeting hers through the dirty glass. And for one wild moment, she wondered if he was trying to communicate with her. Was he encouraging her to escape? Warning her not to leave? Apologizing for abandoning her? But then he turned and walked away.

Her heart plummeted, any lingering hopes she had for a rescue shattered now. It was up to her to save Henry’s life.

But how? She could never overpower Amir. She raised her hand to her bruised jaw, proof of his speed and strength. She’d have to rely on her wits.

Determined, she turned to Henry. He stood as if lost, wobbling precariously on his feet. Even in the dim light she could tell he was feebler than he’d let on.

“Okay, listen,” she said, trying to project an air of confidence she didn’t feel. “They’ve left one man to guard us, the one they call Amir. I’m going to convince him to take me over to that warehouse.” She pointed through the glass. “He’ll probably lock the door as soon as I go out and leave you inside. Do you think you can climb out this window while we’re gone?”

Perking up, Henry walked over and examined the latch. “I think so. The latch looks weak. Do you think we should risk it, though? If we make them mad...”

“We have to.” She swallowed hard, knowing it was time to reveal the truth. “They’re going to kill us, Henry. I just overheard what they said. We don’t have any choice now. We need to get to the river and sneak aboard a boat.”

His face blanched, but he managed a nod. “All right. I can do it.”

“Good. As soon as you get out, run to the back of that building over there.” She pointed through the glass at another warehouse. “I’ll catch up in a minute.” She paused. “But Henry...if anything happens to me, if we get separated, promise me you’ll go to the river and leave.”

Alarm flitted through his eyes. “I’m not leaving without you.”

“You have to.”

“But—”

“I’m serious, Henry. This is our only chance to get free. You have to get out of here.”

“All right. But only if you promise to do the same.”

“I promise,” she lied. She was
not
leaving this man behind. She gave him a hug, praying he had the strength he’d need. “Good luck.”

Gathering her own courage, she banged on the door. “Hello. I need to get out.” Amir didn’t answer, and she slammed her fist on the door again. “It’s urgent. Open up.”

The bolt rattled loose. The door opened a crack and Amir filled the door frame, his checkered scarf drooping around his neck. Sweat glistened on his dark face. “What do you want?”

“I need to go to the toilet.”

“That’s not my problem.” He started to shut the door.

She wedged her foot into the space, keeping it open, her mind racing over what to do. She couldn’t play on this man’s sympathy. He didn’t have it in him to care. But everyone had a weak spot, even a brainless goon like him. She hazarded a guess at his. “It certainly is going to be your problem if my father finds out the way you’ve treated me.”