Bounty Hunter's Woman. Linda Turner
long enough for him to get Priscilla out of London, where he could keep her safe until he was able to hand her over to her brother.
But when he turned to grab her and hustle her out of the apartment, she was gone and the door to the flat was standing wide open.
“Son of a bitch!”
Running after her, he practically threw himself down the stairs, taking them two at a time in the darkness and nearly breaking his neck in the process. He couldn’t lose her, dammit! If she disappeared into the streets of London at this time of night, he’d have a devil of a time picking up her trail again.
The second he took the last step, he hit the steel door that opened onto the alley and burst outside, only to stop in his tracks as fog slapped him right in the face. “What the—”
The fog had slipped in like a thief in the night while he was waiting in the stairwell, sliding down alleys and streets and into darkened doorways, and with no effort whatsoever, he could imagine himself in Victorian London, when Jack the Ripper walked the streets. Visibility was down to fifty feet, and if Priscilla Wyatt was out there somewhere, there was no sign of her.
When he got his hands on her, he was going to give her a piece of his mind. But first he had to find her, and his task had just become nearly impossible. Where the hell could she have gone? The van he’d rented blocked one end of the alley, but squeezing past it would have slowed her down. Making a snap decision, he turned and ran in the opposite direction.
Sounds carried in the fog, and as he reached the cross street at the end of the alley, a car screeched to a stop half a block away. He turned sharply…just in time to see someone dart right in front of an oncoming car that suddenly seemed to appear out of nowhere. In the watery light of the vehicle’s headlights, he caught just a glimpse of a woman running like the hounds of hell were after her. Almost immediately, she was swallowed by the fog again, but not before he recognized Priscilla Wyatt.
“Dammit, where is she going?” he said as he tore off his mask and took off after her.
Darting across the street, he just barely missed being flattened by a taxi. The taxi driver swore at him and laid on his horn, but he didn’t spare the man a glance. Instead, his eyes were locked on the spot where Priscilla had disappeared into the thickening fog. There was a streetlight on the corner and then nothing but darkness for at least two blocks. He only had seconds to catch her or he’d be chasing shadows in the dark.
Suddenly, the fog shifted eerily in front of him like a living thing. For the span of a heartbeat, Priscilla was just three steps in front of him. That was all he needed to grab her.
The hand that came out of the darkness to snare her wrist stopped Priscilla’s heart in mid beat. Terrified, she screamed even as she turned on her kidnapper like a woman possessed. “Let go of me, you bastard! My husband will kill you!”
“I’m not going to hurt you!” her attacker growled. “Shut up before you get us both killed!”
Shut up? He was kidnapping her and he expected her to shut up?! The hell she would! Digging in her heels, moaning as his fingers threatened to crush the bones in her wrist as he jerked her toward him, she screamed, “Help! Somebody help me! I’m being kidnapped!”
Chapter 3
Across the street, a woman who was just getting out of a taxi stepped onto the curb, only to freeze at Priscilla’s cry. Frowning in their direction, she tried to see them in the shifting fog. “Who’s there?” she called. “Are you all right?”
“Help me! I’m being kidnapped!”
“No, she’s not,” Donovan called out quickly as he hauled her close and clamped his hand over her mouth. “She’s a thief!”
Outraged, she bit him…and regained the freedom of speech when he swore and jerked his hand free. “I am not! Let go of me, you bastard!”
“Not on your life, sweetheart,” he said, fighting to control her. Damn, she was strong! And quick. She kicked him before he even guessed her intentions, then somehow managed to evade his efforts to haul her against him and stifle her cries. “She stole a pair of diamond earrings from Thompson’s Jewelry Store,” Donovan told the woman. “I’m an undercover security officer for the store. I saw her take the earrings and stroll out without batting an eye. And they were five hundred pounds!”
He came up with the story on the spot, and it was a damn good one. Thompson’s Jewelry Store was two blocks over, not far from Priscilla’s flat, and the woman Priscilla was appealing to for help obviously knew that. She bought the story lock, stock and barrel. “I’ve got no use for thieves,” she retorted coldly. “Haul her ass off to jail. She deserves it.”
Outraged, Priscilla tried to protest, but all she could manage was a muffled cry as Donovan started to drag her away into the fog…and darkness. “C’mon,” he said roughly, “you’re going to show me where you ditched the earrings, then you’re going to have a nice long chat with the police.”
Helpless, overpowered, but still struggling, Priscilla couldn’t believe this was happening. She’d escaped her kidnappers, only to fall into the hands of another one? No! Somebody had to help her. There were still people out on the street, cars passing by. Surely someone would step forward…
But no one did. The fog swallowed them whole, and just that quickly, she was alone with a stranger who suddenly dragged her into an alley…the same one she’d run down when she’d escaped from her kidnappers. Was he taking her back? Or did he have more sinister plans for her? The alley was pitch black, deserted. And he could do anything he wanted to her…hurt her…rape her…kill her.
Panic pooled in her mouth at the thought. No! She couldn’t just go meekly along with him. If he thought he would overpower her without a fight, he was in for a rude awakening. She’d gouge his eyes out—
“I’m not going to hurt you,” he growled in a low whisper that didn’t carry past her ears. “Your brother sent me.”
If he hadn’t had his hand clamped over her mouth, she would have laughed. Her brother?! Yeah, right. Did he really think she was stupid enough to buy that story? The only way he could know she had a brother was if he was hired by the same man who sent the first set of kidnappers after her. The same man, she thought, blanching, who’d ordered her to be killed if her family didn’t leave the ranch in forty-eight hours.
Clawing at the hand that pinched her mouth to keep her quiet, she knew her new kidnapper wasn’t going to wait forty-eight hours. He was going to kill her now and get it over with.
Terrified, she kicked and clawed and silently called him every filthy name she could think of. For a moment, she thought she was making progress when the heel of her hand connected with his nose. He grunted…and locked his fingers around her wrists like a set of handcuffs. In the next instant, he jerked her hands behind her, and before she could do anything but gasp, she was chest to chest with him and totally helpless.
Caught in the trap of his steely blue gaze, she froze…and heard the roar of her blood in her ears. Suddenly, she was aware of just how strong he was, how close, how hard. Her mouth went dry, and she should have been scared out of her mind. Instead, she’d never been so furious in her life. How dare he manhandle her! “Let go of me, you slimy piece of—”
In the darkness, his eyes narrowed, but he only snapped, “Watch your mouth. I’m trying to help you, but if you insist on doing this the hard way, you’ll be the one who suffers.” And with no more warning than that, he jerked open the driver’s door of the van she’d seen in the alley earlier and pushed her inside.
He released her for just a second so he could climb in after her, but that was all the time she needed. Sobbing, she threw herself across the van and jerked open the passenger door.
Run. Run. RUN! a voice screamed in her ear, but her feet never had a chance to hit the pavement. An arm snaked around her waist, snaring her, and she was hauled, kick and screaming, back into the van and tossed into her seat like a sack