Joanna Wylde - Be Careful what you wish for

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BE CAREFUL WHAT YOU WISH FOR
Joanna Wylde
Chapter One
Sandra rubbed her hands together vigorously, letting the soap cut through the remnants of the massage
oil.
Fat old prick.
The cheap bastard probably wouldn’t even pay her, not that she expected it. That’s what she got for
agreeing to do a private appointment with a new client. At the time it seemed like a dream come true.
Edgar Williams’ secretary had said her boss was desperate, had even offered to pay twice her fee.
Of course, for what he seemed to believe a massage therapist did for a living, her price was a steal. She
could still feel his fat, hairy fingers gripping her ass. Why on earth would a man like that think money
could possibly be enough to make her have sex with him? She’d rather be eaten by a snake!
The pipes made a moaning noise as she shut off the faucets, and she wrinkled her nose. For a couple of
lawyers, Edgar and his partner didn’t seem to make much. Their office was nothing more than an old,
converted house, and it was a dump. She grabbed at the towel to wipe her hands and shuddered as her
fingers hit crust. Yuck. She wiped them on her jeans instead, then turned and opened the door.
“I’m out of here. You should be ashamed of yourself, Williams,” she declared as she stalked out of the
bathroom into the office. “I have every intention of reporting you to the Better Business Bureau—”
Her voice cut off abruptly as she took in the scene before her.
Edgar stood frozen, facing a tall shadow of a man. Neither spoke.
“What’s going on here?” she asked. The shadow stepped forward into the light. He was big, a man who
had clearly spent a lot of time lifting weights. The clothes he wore fit poorly, as if they made for a smaller
man. His long, black hair was pulled back in a ponytail and his face seemed chiseled in ice. His arm
moved, catching her eye.
Something glinted in his hand. Shit. It was a knife.
“You aren’t supposed to be here,” he said to her slowly, his voice so low she strained to hear it. “I’m
sorry you have to be a part of this.” Her eyes flew to his face, meeting a cold gaze. What the hell?
“Give me one reason I shouldn’t kill you, too,” he continued, watching her closely. “I’m here for Edgar,
and I hardly figured he’d have a piece like you around. What should I do with you?”
Her heart seemed to stop beating.
“I don’t even know this guy,” she whispered. “Just let me go. I won’t tell anyone anything. I don’t want
to be a part of this.”
“How stupid do you think I am?” he asked softly, eyes slipping down her still form. “You’ll scream
bloody murder if I let you go. You’ll have to, or they might pin his death on you. In fact, I think I like that
idea. You’re a masseuse, right? I thought guys had to go to special parlors to find women like you. A call
girl is the perfect murder suspect.”
His mouth twisted, giving the word “masseuse” an ugly connotation. She stiffened.
“I’m a licensed massage therapist,” she said. “I went to school for a long time to learn my craft, and I’ve
helped heal a lot of suffering people.”
“Shut up, bitch, nobody cares,” Edgar muttered. “Sean, you don’t have to kill anyone. I’m willing to
work with you. We can make things right between us.”
“It’s too late for you Edgar,” Sean said. “I’m touched by your concern for your girlfriend, though.”
“I’m not his girlfriend,” Sandra said firmly. She edged slowly into the room, trying to control the shaking
of her legs. Sean stepped toward her, eyes trailing across her body once more.
“I could use some of that licensed healing,” he said, the words sounding dirty. He dropped one hand
slowly to his crotch, and cupped himself. Her eyes followed his hand, noticing a large, long ridge beneath
his pants. Edgar shot her a glance and sidled to one side of the room. Maybe he had an idea? Not likely,
but she couldn’t bring herself to give him away by following him with her eyes.
“Are you going to kill me?” she asked, letting her voice go soft. She straightened her shoulders, pushing
her breasts out. If Edgar needed a distraction to help rescue them, she was ready and willing to help out.
Thankfully her T-shirt had a scoop neckline. Now if only she had some more cleavage…
“Not right away,” Sean murmured, running his hand slowly up and down the length of his erection. Out of
the corner of her eyes she saw Edgar slip through the door. What was he doing? He was supposed to
thump the bad guy over the head while she distracted him, not run away. “Not before I’m done with you.
I haven’t had a woman in a hell of a long time. You look just like a ripe peach to me, all soft and filled
with juices.”
A bolt of lightning flashed, followed by a loud clap of thunder. Edgar bolted down the hallway.
“Edgar, you bastard!” she screamed. Sean spun around, giving out a mighty bellow of anger. Sandra
looked around desperately for some kind of weapon. The closest thing she could see was a wooden
chair. She picked it up and brought it crashing down across the back of his head. He staggered to one
side and she pushed past him out the door. She could hear his muttered curses as she ran down the hall,
through the living room that masqueraded as a waiting room, and out the front door. There was no sign of
Edgar. She jetted across the wet pavement toward her aging hatchback and fumbled in her jeans pocket
for the keys. Where were they?
Fuck.
She’d left them inside.
A noise came from behind; he was coming. She needed to get away.
She took off down the street, passing boarded-up houses and small, closed businesses. Nine at night,
and the entire block had shut down. Why had she agreed to an evening appointment in this part of town?
It was a cesspit, dangerous for a woman alone.
She could hear his footsteps thudding behind her. Damn, he was fast.
Lightning flashed again; rain burst from the sky, hitting the pavement in splatters. Within seconds she felt it
soaking her hair and her T-shirt. She slipped and almost went down, but managed to flail her arms and
pull herself back upright.
He was gaining on her. She wouldn’t be able to outrun him.
She turned a corner and a light called to her from a storefront diner? She put on an extra burst of speed
and started toward it. Not fast enough. His fingers caught the back of her T-shirt, ripping at it viciously.
She almost went down, but she managed to keep to her feet, somehow tried to keep moving. Maybe she
could rip the shirt and get away…
He jerked back on the fabric. Hard. She choked, falling backwards, hitting the ground with such force
that she couldn’t breathe. He rolled onto her, roughly covering her mouth with his hand.
“You aren’t getting away just yet, little girl,” he said, his voice low and menacing. “I’ve worked too hard
for this to let you fuck it up. Edgar will keep his mouth shut, he’ll be too scared not to. You’re another
story.”
Oh, she was scared all right. She choked back a sob, wishing desperately that she hadn’t taken the
appointment. What had she been thinking?
He lay on top of her for several tense seconds as her pulse pounded in her ears. Her chest heaved
against his, the hard points of her nipples flattened against his muscles. Nothing about him gave even an
inch of space. She opened her mouth, gasping against his hand for air. She couldn’t get a deep breath.
One small part of her mind registered he wasn’t breathing hard at all. Bastard.
“I’m going to let you up slowly,” he said, whispered in her ear. His breath seemed hot, menacing. “You
need to keep your mouth shut. If you don’t, I’ll kill you. If you do exactly what I say, you may have a
chance to live. Do you understand?”
She nodded her head, her gaze darting toward the diner. Why didn’t anyone see her? Sure, it was dark
and wet, but they were right in the middle of the street. Didn’t they realize she needed help?
“Look at me,” he said. “Convince me that you understand.”
She turned her eyes toward him, getting a good look at the man for the first time. Pale blue eyes met her
gaze, so pale they seemed unnatural. Witch eyes, she thought, shuddering. They bore through her without
a trace of warmth, two orbs of ice penetrating her soul.
“Are you going to make any noise?” he asked slowly.
She shook her head as well as she could, meaning it. She had no doubt that he’d kill her if she didn’t
obey. Not that he’d enjoy it, she thought. Killing her would be no more than swatting a fly to him. He
wouldn’t think twice about it.
“You keep quiet and stay next to me,” he said. “If we run into anyone, you agree with everything I say.”
She nodded, and then he leaned up on one arm. The movement pushed his hips down into her, and to
her horror she felt something press against her. That same bulge she’d seen before, only much bigger. He
wanted her.
Her startled gaze flew to his face again.
“If you’re good, I’ll keep you around for a while,” he said slowly. “You might have all kinds of uses.”
With that he let her go, pushing himself to his feet and then pulling her up roughly beside him. He grabbed
her upper arm and marched her down the street toward Edgar’s office. As they walked, a van pulled up
next to them, and for one shining moment hope filled her heart. Then the door slid open, and a black man
with eyes as dead as her captor’s looked at them.
“Who the hell is she?” he asked.
“She’s my new toy,” the man said. “She fucked up my little visit with Eddie-boy, and now she’s seen too
much.”
“Why is she still alive?” the man asked as casually as if they were discussing a sick plant. “Valzar isn’t
going to like this.”
“Why do you think she’s still alive? Look at her,” Sean replied, jerking his head in the general direction of
her breasts. “I could use the services of a pro right now, and she’s feeling motivated to stay alive. We’ll
work something out.”
The man shrugged, apparently indifferent to her fate.
“So long as she can’t ID us when this is all over,” he said. “Oh, we got Edgar for you. He’s in a
dumpster about a block the other direction.”
“Thanks.”
Sean pushed her into the van and hopped up after her. She lurched against the other man, and he pushed
her back into a seat. His touch held no kindness.
“Let’s go,” Sean said, thumping the back of the seat before him. The van swerved out into the street,
tires squealing across the wet pavement. Sandra sank back into to the seat, wishing with all her might that
Sean and his friends had gotten to Edgar long before she’d ever heard of the asshole.
Chapter Two
Sean collapsed on the seat next to the hooker. He was exhausted, soaked and had missed out on getting
personal revenge against the man he hated more than anyone on earth. He’d waited years for that
revenge. It was revenge for his fallen men, too, although they would never know about it. They had died
to feed Williams’ greed, along with the hostage they were trying to rescue.
Now he wanted to howl, to punch out with his fists and kill. He forced the feelings back, maintaining his
frozen exterior. He had to stay calm, had to escape. Because of her, he’d lost the chance to kill Williams.
He wanted to hate her, but she smelled too good, even wet and muddy. It had been five years, two
months, and ten days since he’d touched a woman.
He wanted desperately to touch this one.
His old friend Del sat in the seat next to them, carefully ignoring their guest. His silence spoke volumes.
She was a liability; she could link all of them to Williams. He should have killed her.
Del was right, of course. She was a liability. He really couldn’t afford to let her live, but he’d be damned
if he wanted to kill her just yet. Or at all, really. A pro like her would understand, they would come to an
arrangement, he told himself. Hell, she might like South America. He sure did.
He reached between his legs, adjusting his pants to a more comfortable position. His cock throbbed. He
could almost feel her squirming beneath him on the ground, feel her soft breasts pushing against his chest
as she gasped for air. Her belly had given way to him so easily, and he knew instinctively that her legs
would have cradled him to perfection. She was a whore—she knew how to touch a man in all the right
places. He couldn’t wait to get his hands on her.
She shivered beside him. Probably cold, he thought, and scared. Sean wrapped one arm around her
shoulder, pulling her stiff body against his. She didn’t want to be touched—he could feel the fear radiating
from her. But she was so soft and small next to him, like a little rabbit. He wanted to squeeze her. Sean
lifted her onto his lap, pulling her head to his chest.
“We’ll work something out,” he repeated softly, trying to calm her fears.
Beside him Del gave a snort of disgust.
“You can sit up front if you like,” Sean said, giving Del a pointed look. Del shook his head slowly, but
leveraged his large frame up. He stood, bracing himself against the seatbacks as he moved forward and
dropped down into the broad passenger-side chair.
Sean ignored him, turning back to his newfound treasure instead.
Her little ass was tight and warm against him, and he could feel himself swelling even larger. He closed his
eyes, and his hands clutched her body almost spasmodically. Hot. Female. His.
She moaned and gave a whimper of protest.
“Don’t worry, I’ll be a better customer than Edgar Williams,” he said, not wanting to think about those
fat hands touching her. It was better to imagine she wasn’t a whore, that she was his woman, and he
could do whatever he wanted with her. Of course, he could do whatever he wanted with her, he
reflected, so long as he paid her enough. Once upon a time, the thought might have bothered him,
perhaps even disgusted him.
Now it just made him harder.
He knew they’d arrive at the airstrip soon, but he couldn’t help himself. He had to touch her. He grasped
her small waist, lifting her and repositioning her so that she straddled his lap, facing him. He lifted his hips,
pressing his erection up into the juncture of her thighs.
Damn, that was good.
She moaned once more, and he opened his eyes to look at her face.
Her eyes were large and brown in her face, pixie eyes, he thought with bitter bemusement. Not the kind
of eyes you should find on a working girl. She had pale skin with a smattering of freckles across her nose,
and she bit her lip nervously as she searched his face. The gesture drew his attention to her lips, and he
studied them thoughtfully. They were full, slightly chapped. He imagined kissing them, knowing full well
she’d probably bite him if he tried. At least he hoped she would. He liked a woman with a little spark.
She didn’t seem to have much fight left in her at the moment, but she’d sure given him a run for his money
earlier. He’d actually thought for a moment that she might get away from him.
He wondered what she was thinking, and then decided he didn’t care. She was sexy as hell. He looked
lower, and realized that if they had more light he’d probably be able to see right through her wet shirt. As
it was, he could see the faint outline of her bra. It must be black, he realized, to stand out like that. He
closed his eyes, imagining her rounded, pouty breasts draped in wisps of black lace. He groaned and
rocked her forward over his cock.
He didn’t want to think about how many men she’d had; he wanted to think about the soft, warm spot
between her legs. He wanted to thrust up into her so hard she screamed. He imagined doing it, and his
hips bucked up at her again. The friction of their clothes rubbing felt almost painful to his sensitive flesh,
but he couldn’t seem to stop himself. Grasping her hips firmly in his hands, he lifted her slightly and then
rubbed her down the length of his cock. He did it again, repeating the motion until he thought he’d die.
Tension spiraled down toward his groin, building with each motion until he thought he might burst right
out of his pants.
Or worse yet, burst in them.
He reached down, determined to free his length from the imprisoning cloth. She could touch him, wrap
her fingers around him and massage him right there. It would be amazing, the most perfect sensation he
could imagine.
Let her earn her keep; they all had to do their part.
But even as he wormed his hand between them, the van came to a stop and Del turned to look at him
with a toothy, humorless grin.
“You’re lucky,” he said, “Valzar’s come up in the world. He’s got a private jet with a bedroom. I suggest
you wait until you’re on board before doing anything else. We’re not out of the woods yet, you know.”
Sean nodded, knowing Del was right. He’d already wasted precious time hunting Williams; his deal for
protection and cover from the CIA wasn’t worth a damn if he didn’t even make it out of the country. The
locals were still trying to catch him. Hell, he was kind of surprised they weren’t waiting for him at the
airstrip. For once, though, his luck seemed to be holding. The door on the side of the van slid open, and
a dark-skinned man in a loose shirt and jeans smiled at him.
“I see you haven’t changed, amigo,” Valzar said in his soft, lightly accented voice. “Always a girl in tow.
Let’s board the plane—we’ve been waiting for you. It hasn’t occurred to your stupid gringo prison
guards to shut down the airspace around here, but they’ll figure it out soon enough. Let’s leave before
they think of it.”
Sean smiled, unexpectedly pleased to see Valzar. Damn, he’d missed the man.
“Out,” he said, pushing the woman off his lap and ahead of him as he jumped down onto the tarmac. In
the distance he could see Valzar’s plane—small, sleek and fast.
“You’ve come up in the world, friend,” he said, giving the man a hug. The woman stood next to them
awkwardly; he didn’t bother watching her. Del eyed her coldly, fingering his gun.
Valzar took his arm and started walking him toward the plane. Del followed, pushing the woman along
beside them. His little bird wouldn’t get away while Del stood guard.
“You’re a lucky man, Sean,” Valzar said. “Deals like this one don’t come along very often. We all
thought you were long lost.”
“I thought I might be, too,” Sean said. He’d been out of his prison cell less than four hours, but already it
seemed like some kind of horrible dream.
He’d rather die than go back.
“How much do I owe you?” he asked, nodding toward the plane. “I know you must have paid them to
help me escape, not to mention the tab for that little beauty.”
“When I heard that an opportunity was coming, I couldn’t resist,” Valzar said, shrugging with Latin
elegance. “Don’t worry about the money. We’re partners, remember? You still have plenty of cash lying
around, you know. I’ve been taking good care of it for you.”
“I didn’t expect that,” Sean said, shaking his head. “We always said that if one of us got caught, the other
shouldn’t look back. That was the plan.”
“Fuck the plan,” Valzar said, grinning broadly. “I enjoyed tricking the gringo prison guards. It was worth
it just to see their stupid pig faces on the television set while we waited. They still have no idea what hit
them.”
“How many men escaped?” Sean asked.
“Couple hundred?” Valzar said, giving another fluid shrug. “They probably aren’t even sure that you’re
gone yet. There’s still plenty of confusion at the prison. They’re rioting, you know.”
“How did you arrange that?’ Sean asked, almost afraid to hear the answer. Valzar had always been
ruthless when it came to getting what he wanted.
“I didn’t have to,” Valzar said. “Our mutual friends took care of everything. All they want in return is
some consideration down the line, which I was planning to give them anyway.”
Sean nodded, not wanting the details. The less he knew about CIA operations the better.
“How long will it take us to get out of U.S. airspace?” he asked. “Will that be a problem?”
“You’ve been in prison a long time, amigo,” Valzar said, flashing his playboy’s grin. “I guess you haven’t
heard. I have diplomatic immunity now. This plane belongs to my government. If they try to stop us,
they’ll create an international incident.”
Chapter Three
Sandra watched closely as the two men walked ahead of her, talking in what seemed like friendly enough
tones. Del marched next to her, face sullen. Her eyes darted around, looking for ways to escape. The
rain was falling harder now, and she wondered for a moment if it would be too dangerous for the plane to
take off.
Of course not, she realized in disgust. These were men who weren’t afraid to commit murder and
kidnapping. Why would they let the weather stop them?
Of course, the weather might serve her purpose. If she found just the right moment to break away, the
darkness might provide enough cover to escape. She stole a look at Del, who seemed to be ignoring her.
Lightning flashed again, and a thunderclap hit so hard the very ground seemed to shake beneath their feet.
It was her shot.
She took off running as fast as she could, deliberately heading for the darkness along the side of the
runway. There were no buildings there, only a few lonely-looking crop-dusters tethered with worn ropes.
Beyond them were trees and cover. If she could just make it that far she’d at least have a chance to
escape.
She heard Del shouting behind her. It took him a couple seconds to register her escape, and then
something made a cracking noise.
Shots.
Holy Mother, he was shooting his gun at her! She’d thought she was already going as fast she could run,
but suddenly she found more speed. The noise cracked again, and then once more. She heard more
shouts from behind, and then a thudding sound. Holes appeared in one of the planes ahead of her and
she gulped, terrified. She made it past the first of the planes, ducking behind it and pausing for a moment
to catch her breath and clutch her side.
Big mistake.
Her captor, the one they called Sean, was right behind her, all but plowing her over when he came
barreling around the plane. She lurched away from him and took off again, ignoring the terrible stitch in
her side. Why hadn’t she signed up for that aerobics class? She’d been meaning to do it for weeks now.
Mom had been right, laziness really would be the death of her.
The pavement beneath her feet abruptly disappeared, and her feet sank into sandy gravel. It threw her off
and she fell forward, hard, hands hitting the ground with enough force to tear off the skin. She heard him
coming. She crawled forward, trying to push herself to her feet. Moving was hard, she’d knocked the
breath right out of her lungs when she fell.
He hit her with the force of a train, slamming her into the ground as he came down. He was hard, wet,
angry, and for one moment she wondered if he’d kill her right on the spot. Instead he just held her there,
panting hard and muttering under his breath.
“That was stupid, girl,” he said roughly. “Very stupid. You made me look bad in front of my friends and
they aren’t the kind of people to forget something like that. Neither am I, for that matter. You’ll be sorry
you did this.”
She had no doubt he told the truth. She was sorry already. Her legs were already cramping, and she
knew she’d ache in the morning. If she survived to see the morning.
“I’ll do what you say,” she muttered quickly. “Please don’t kill me. All I want is to live. Please.”
“Oh, you’ll live,” he said, his voice rough. “After the hassle you’ve given me, I’ll be damned if I’ll let you
go this easy. You owe me now.”
She didn’t respond to the patently illogical statement, knowing that arguing with him was foolish. If he
said she was the problem, she’d accept responsibility. Whatever it took to keep him happy was good
enough for her. He pushed himself up slowly and reached one hand down to her. She took it with
resignation; she was beat. Whatever chances she might have to get away were over for the moment.
Now she needed to conserve her strength.
He pulled her to her feet and marched her along next to him, one hand wrapped firmly around her upper
arm. It hurt and she knew she’d have bruises there the next day. Then again, she’ probably have bruises
all over.
They walked in silence back through the parked planes. Del sat on the tarmac near the jet, clutching his
jaw and giving her a look of such hatred that she shivered. How had he gotten hurt? The other man,
Valzar, watched her with cool speculation in his eyes, as if she were some sort of strange and exotic bird
he was considering eating.
She didn’t like that look at all.
Sean stayed silent, marching her past both of them toward the jet. She was freezing cold now, and
covered in mud, but nobody seemed to notice or care. They reached the foot of a small flight of steps
leading to the open hatch of the jet. Sean pushed her up ahead of him, and she stumbled. One of her
shoes was gone, she realized. She was walking half barefoot through the rain and she hadn’t even
noticed. Her toe throbbed, and she wondered if she were bleeding.
They entered the plane and he pushed her toward the back. Along each side were comfortable loungers.
Nobody was in them. He kept her moving until they reached the end of the hall where a narrow door
awaited them.
“Through that door,” he said roughly. “We’ll be able to get cleaned up in there. I’m sure Valzar doesn’t
want us getting mud all over his pretty airplane.”
She opened the door, finding herself in a surprisingly spacious room. A large bed stood against one wall,
as well as several chairs and a closet. Another door, just past the bed, seemed to lead into a bathroom.
“We’ll shower in there later,” he said coolly, letting go of her arm for the first time. “We’ll be taking off in
a couple minutes, and until we’re in the air, we shouldn’t be moving around the cabin. Take off your
clothes.”
She stood frozen, unable to process his words.
“I said take off your clothes,” he said again, opening the buttons of his own shirt. His fingers revealed a
well-muscled chest covered in springy black hair. It was broad and finely muscled. She gaped at him,
hardly believing this was real. Was he going to rape her like this? It seemed so…sudden. She shook her
head, trying to clear her thoughts.
“Do you want me to take off your clothes for you?” he asked coldly. “I don’t want you getting mud all
over the plane, and you’ll do that if you don’t get that stuff off right now.”
“Oh,” she said, turning away and blushing. She started pulling the shirt over her head, and then froze.
He’d stopped moving behind her. She turned to find him watching her.
“Take them off.”
She pulled her wet T-shirt up slowly, wishing desperately that she’d worn a plain white bra. Why had she
gone with black that morning? What had she been thinking? The shirt was gone all too soon, and she
reached down to unzip her jeans.
They were soaking wet, and the zipper stuck.
She turned away from him once more, working at it and feeling her breath come in short puffs. Then she
felt the warmth of his body behind her; she froze. His hands reached around her, grasping the zipper in
firm fingers. He worked it down slowly, and then reached his hands into the waist of her jeans to slide
them down. His touch was almost gentle, a complete contrast with his tone of voice. She felt fingers graze
her flesh as he pushed the wet fabric lower, across her hipbones and down the side of her thighs. The
jeans clung to her, but he slid them down with the same strength he’d used to capture her earlier. She had
no doubt in that moment that he’d be able to rip them off if he wanted.
As her jeans moved lower, he knelt behind her. She felt his hot breath on her back as he dropped down,
could feel the start of surprise he gave as her red thong panties came into view.
Oh Lord. She’d only worn them because she needed to do laundry. They’d been a gift from Matt, the
idiot who’d dumped her two months ago for a grad student. He’d said she bored him. Oh, to go back to
those boring days again… And to think she used to wish for a little more excitement in her life!
Sean stopped moving as the thong came into view, his breath hitting the small of her back in short, sharp
puffs. He was seeing her bare ass in a way only a lover should see it, she thought miserably. Then he
started moving again, sliding his hand within the jeans down to her knees.
“You can get it from here,” he said roughly. She nodded, unsure of what to say, waiting for him to step
back.
He didn’t move.
She tried to kick her feet free of the fabric but she kept getting tangled. With a sinking feeling, she
realized she was going to have to bend over and pull the jeans off. She did so slowly, wondering if the
blush she could feel in her face extended all the way down her body. He had to be getting quite the view
of her ass. Matt had always said it was her best feature, usually in conjunction with some kind of a
comment about how her brains weren’t worth a damn. Sean didn’t say anything, though. He didn’t touch
her, either, and then she was free from the heavy fabric. She stepped forward turning slowly to face him.
“What now?” she asked, afraid to hear the answer. From the feel of his erection earlier, she had a pretty
good idea what his plans were. She thought about fighting him, refusing his touch, but dismissed the idea
with frightening ease. She wanted to live. If that meant accommodating him sexually, so be it. She wasn’t
some shrinking Victorian flower, she knew what it meant to do it. Hell, it couldn’t be worse than Matt’s
drunken caresses and stinking breath.
“Get in the bed,” he said, jerking his head in that direction. “You’re freezing and you need to warm up.
It’s the best we can do for now.”
“What about the sheets, won’t they get wet?” she asked, and then wondered why she bothered. This
was a kidnapping, not a decorating show. To hell with the sheets.
“They’ll be fine,” he said in a bemused tone of voice, apparently sharing her thoughts. “We can change
them later. Right now I just want to get warmed up.”
She turned away from him and walked slowly toward the bed. They would have sex now, she was
certain of it. Maybe she could make a break past him and run out the door?
The plane’s engines powered up, and she heard a thudding noise. The doors had closed. Too late. They
would land eventually—she’d try to escape then. The key was to stay alive long enough to take
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BECAREFULWHATYOUWISHFORJoannaWyldeChapterOne Sandrarubbedherhandstogethervigorously,lettingthesoapcutthroughtheremnantsofthemassageoil.Fatoldprick.Thecheapbastardprobablywouldn’tevenpayher,notthatsheexpectedit.That’swhatshegotforagreeingtodoaprivateappointmentwithanewclient.Atthetimeitseemedlikeadre...

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