Seduced By The Enemy. Jamie Denton
Читать онлайн книгу.
these Points and Authorities before I leave. I get to meet dear old mom for a late dinner, and then it’s back to her place for a girls’ weekend,” she said, then shuddered dramatically. “I told you my life was pathetic.”
“At least you have a family who cares about you,” Peyton said, shifting her briefcase to her other hand.
“Yeah, too much. My weekend will consist of hearing ad nauseam what a perfect life my older sister, Monica, has with her perfect husband, perfect children and perfect house. Even her precision trained German shepherd is perfect. Oh yeah, and when am I going to find the perfect man, yada, yada, yada. Still sound like loads of fun?”
Peyton laughed and pulled her keys from her purse. “You know you love it. Have fun,” she said, then started toward the exit. “I’ll see you Monday after the Howell hearing.”
Since there were few people left in the building so late on a Friday night, it was no wonder the parking garage was practically deserted when she stepped off the elevator. Gripping her briefcase in her left hand, she positioned her keys in her right as a paltry weapon against any would-be mugger. She crossed the parking garage, listening for sounds other than the click of her own sensible navy pumps against the concrete.
The light nearest her car was still burned out, deepening the shadows as she approached her Ford Taurus. The light had been out since Monday. She made a mental note to have Kellie advise the building superintendent of the problem again. It really wasn’t safe to be waltzing through the parking garage at night, but doing so without adequate lighting was just plain stupid.
Having no other choice, she approached her car using a great deal of caution. She opened the trunk and placed her briefcase inside, then, after a cursory glance around the area, slammed the trunk closed and pressed the button on her remote to unlock the door. Out of habit, she looked through the rear driver’s side window, but it was an exercise in futility, since the interior lamp in the car had obviously chosen to burn out, as well. What was it with her and lightbulbs lately?
She slipped into the car, slid the key into the ignition and turned it over before reaching up to pull the seat belt in place. Her hand stilled in midair and a scream lodged in her throat when a large, callused hand covered her mouth. Then something hard and round was pressed against the base of her skull.
2
“HELLO, PEYTON.”
She’d recognize that voice anywhere. Deep, and as smooth as the highest quality brandy. Even though she detected a hardness in his tone she didn’t remember, there was no mistaking it was him.
Jared.
He’d come back. For her? For revenge? Considering she’d turned him in once, coupled with the fact that he was holding a gun to the back of her head, she wasn’t about to make any snap decisions about his motivation for returning.
She inhaled slowly and fought to exhale evenly in an effort to still the rapid cadence of her heart. Fear-induced panic would do her no good and would have her thoughts scattering like autumn leaves dancing in a wind storm. Focus and concentration had to be her sole objectives if she had any hope of escaping him, and maybe even learning what he wanted from her and why he’d come back.
“Let’s just take things slow and easy,” he said, his voice low, as if he was talking to her over a candlelight dinner and not holding her hostage in her own car. “No one needs to get hurt.”
Not getting hurt was just fine by her. Slow and easy would give her time to think, to take advantage of the first opportunity to escape and call the authorities. He wasn’t the same man she’d once loved, and she desperately needed to remember that, instead of exhuming memories better left buried. The man holding her captive was the enemy, and dangerous. A fugitive who’d murdered his partner and the top aide to a prominent United States senator, and made off with two million dollars like it was some grand prize for his horrendous crime. Since she was the one who’d attempted to hand him over to the feds on a silver platter, she had a right to be fearful and cautious.
She remained perfectly still, concentrated on breathing evenly, and slowly opened her eyes, only to peer into the shadowed darkness of the deserted parking garage.
“Listen carefully, Peyton.” He reminded her exactly who was in charge by adding the slightest amount of pressure with the weapon he held on her.
As if she needed reminding.
“Put your hands on the steering wheel.”
In the rearview mirror, she sought him out, but the darkness inside the vehicle prevented her from discerning anything more than the reflection of his silhouette. She wanted, needed to see his eyes. For as long as they’d been together, she’d always been able to read him by the look in his eyes. It’d been the only way she’d known when he was upset, frustrated, even angry. She’d also known the love he’d once felt for her was as real as it got.
And when she’d betrayed him, she’d known how deeply she’d hurt him.
Those days were long gone. But that knowledge didn’t stop her need to look into his dark emerald eyes now when it was most important, when one glance would tell her whether or not she was in real danger. The blasted darkness prevented her from searching for the truth.
He kept his hand over her mouth so she couldn’t scream bloody murder. Not that anyone would hear her this time of night in the deserted parking garage, but just the same, he obviously wasn’t about to take any chances.
Her eyes darted to the steering wheel, then back to the rearview mirror. “Forget it, Peyton.” The silky tone of his voice stirred memories she couldn’t afford to think about now.
How he could see so clearly when she could barely make out the shape of his head was beyond her.
“I disconnected the horn.” He added a little more pressure with the weapon. “Hands, sweetheart. Steering wheel.” He nudged again. “Now.”
Sudden anger reared up inside her, white-hot and fiery, shoving aside her earlier fear and uncertainty. She did as he ordered, then tried to twist her head free of his grasp. A useless endeavor. He held her head firmly against the headrest and what she was certain was the nose of a pistol. Frustration nipped at her when she couldn’t even open her mouth to bite his hand.
“Take it easy, sweetheart. I’m not here to hurt you, but to save you.”
Save me? From whom? she wanted to rail at him. Or what?
“This car has automatic locks, right?” he asked her, instead of answering the question she couldn’t voice.
She nodded her head as much as his tight hold would allow.
“We’re gonna do this slow and easy,” he repeated. “I don’t want to hurt you, but I will if I have to, if it’ll keep you safe. Do you understand that, Peyton?”
He waited, so she nodded again.
“Good. I’ll explain everything later, but right now, I want you to reach over and engage the locks.”
None of what he was telling her made sense. Keep her safe? As far as she could tell, he posed the only danger. Didn’t he realize that after what he’d done, he could end up being shot on sight? He was a wanted man, for crying out loud.
Once she hit the button and the locks clicked, he finally removed the pressure from the weapon he held on her. She heard the rustle of fabric and assumed he’d stuffed the gun into his pocket.
Breathing suddenly became a whole lot easier.
“I’m going to remove my hand. Are you going to scream?”
She shook her head. No one would hear her, anyway. She seriously doubted the aging guard could hear her if he was standing directly in front of her. Still, she had to do something. Was she really supposed to believe she was the one in danger, when it was his face on a wanted poster?
With his hand still clamped over her mouth, he reached over and snagged