Safe by His Side. Debra Webb

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Safe by His Side - Debra  Webb Mills & Boon Vintage Intrigue

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have to use the phone!” Kate blurted. “I have to…call in,” she added more slowly.

      “What the hell are you mumbling about?” he growled, glaring at her as he stopped for a traffic light.

      “Rick, I have to—”

      “Don’t call me that,” he warned.

      Kate blinked, confused. “But those other men called you that.”

      “And look where it got them.”

      Kate stifled a gasp. Was he trying to shock her?

      He chuckled and turned his attention back to the busy street. “You,” he said, tossing her an unreadable look, “can call me Raine.”

      Fear trickled through Kate. Raine. She swallowed tightly. Your life will be in constant danger. Words, images, sensations crashed through her consciousness. Kate trembled with the effort of maintaining her composure under the mental assault. This man was dangerous. She didn’t know how she knew, she just knew. And every moment she spent with him put her in danger. Constant danger.

      She had to get away from him. “Please,” she began in an unsteady voice. “You have to let me find a telephone.”

      “I don’t have to let you do anything,” he told her flatly, without ever taking his eyes from the road. “Besides, who will you call? You don’t even remember who you are. Remember?” he taunted irritably.

      “I…I remembered a number. I think maybe it’s my mother’s. Maybe she lives here and I was visiting her when I had my accident. I need to let her know that I’m okay,” she pleaded with all the vulnerability and femininity she could muster. Kate had no idea if she even had a living mother, but neither did he.

      “No.” The single word was cold and emotionless.

      Anger shot through her, but Kate tamped down the emotion. She had to approach Mr. Hardass with something a little different. Like an actress given her cue, Kate burst into tears. “Oh, please. You have to let me call. Maybe if I can hear her voice it will help bring my memory back. Please,” she pleaded.

      Raine ignored her completely.

      Kate moved on to plan B: she sobbed relentlessly. The occasional peek she dared take in his direction reassured her that she was winning the battle. Raine literally squirmed in his seat. She kept the theatrics going at a steady pace.

      Hey, she thought, maybe I’m an actress.

      “All right, all right. Just shut up, for Christ’s sake.” He plowed his hand through his hair. “One phone call and then I don’t want to hear another peep from you.”

      “Thank you,” Kate murmured humbly. She stared out at the passing landscape and gave herself a mental pat on the back. She allowed her tears to dry slowly, swiping her eyes occasionally for added effect. Kate was certain that this man was smarter than most; it would be better not to regain her composure too quickly. No point in risking his finding out that she had pushed his buttons to get what she wanted.

      Maybe she was a psychologist, she mused, biting her lower lip to prevent a tiny smile.

      A large visitors’ center came into view up ahead on the right. Kate felt her hopes rising. Somehow she’d find a way to ditch him there. She could easily get lost in the crowd. Raine passed the center and her hopes plummeted.

      “Why didn’t you stop? You said I could have one phone call.”

      “Too crowded,” he told her, keeping his gaze fixed straight ahead. “The fewer people who see us the better.”

      Kate huffed an indignant sound and crossed her arms over her chest. She leaned back in the seat and forced herself to relax. She had no choice but to acquiesce to his authority—she was, after all, his hostage. Kate frowned at the thought, but it was unfortunately accurate. For all intents and purposes she was the hostage of this Raine character.

      He’s the best in the business. The words echoed inside her aching skull. She glanced at the man driving and considered again if somehow she did know him. The best in the business of what? she wondered.

      A strong profile defined the angular features of his handsome face. His forehead and nose were prominent, but not too much so. A strong chin and chiseled jaw finished out the lean lines. He wore his thick, sandy hair a little too long. And those eyes. Kate closed her own eyes and summoned the image of those stormy blue eyes. Among his many assets, including a strong, muscular body, Raine’s eyes were definitely the most appealing. His personality, unquestionably the least.

      Kate opened her eyes wide. What had gotten into her? There wasn’t the first thing appealing about the man! He was hell-bent on getting her killed, and besides, her interest in him was purely professional.

      Kate started. Her heart rate accelerated. Professional. She did know this man. Then why didn’t he know her? Vivid images of her naked breasts pressed against his bare chest flashed through her mind. Him removing her clothes…his strong arms wrapped firmly around her. In the shower. Oh, God, they’d showered together—naked.

      Oh, God. Raine had told the truth. She wasn’t an actress or a psychologist. She was a bought-and-paid-for whore! Oh, God. Kate closed her eyes and willed the tears to retreat. Every fiber of her being rejected the idea. But what else could those snatches of memory mean?

      Raine slowed the car and took a hard right. Kate blinked rapidly to clear her blurred vision. He parked the car in a slot in a large, vacant parking lot. As had been the case when she’d stepped out of his cabin that afternoon, they were surrounded by dense woods. Nothing looked even remotely familiar.

      A large painted sign read Alum Cave Bluff Hiking Trail.

      Kate didn’t realize Raine had gotten out of the car until he opened her door. “Get a move on,” he ordered in a military tone.

      Kate dropped her feet to the pavement and pushed herself up and out of the car only to be slapped in the face by a cold blast of wind. She sucked in a sharp breath of frigid air and shivered. The only thing that kept her convinced that she hadn’t died and gone to hell was the arctic chill of this damn place. At least it wasn’t raining. She glanced around the unfamiliar area. In fact, it looked as if it hadn’t rained here at all.

      Raine ushered her toward a pay phone that looked strangely out of place in the deserted parking lot surrounded by trees. He picked up the receiver and listened for a dial tone.

      “Okay,” he said roughly. “You’ve got one minute and don’t say anything you’ll regret.” He pulled some change from his pocket and thrust it at her, then leaned against one side of the open blue canopy that served as the telephone’s protection against the elements.

      Kate nodded mutely. She accepted the change and receiver and tried to pretend that he wasn’t so close, but no way could she completely block out his powerful masculine presence. His scent, leather and something vaguely citrus, invaded her senses, making her feel even more disoriented.

      She deposited the coins, then reached a shaky hand toward the numbers on the face of the telephone. Call in, she silently repeated to herself over and over. No matter how often she said it, the numbers she’d remembered so clearly only minutes ago would not resurface. Kate licked her lips nervously and stabbed a string of meaningless numbers, stopping after

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