find something funny about this?’ he grated incredulously.
The second man had faded into the shadows, apparently content to let his partner in crime do all the talking—perhaps he was the muscle. Not that this guy looked like he needed any help in that area, she mused, as her eyes slid over his impressive torso—not an ounce of spare flesh anywhere that she could see. In fact, in that close-fitting top, if she squinted she could just about make out the slabs of individual muscle across… Stop! The warning voice inside her head shrieked.
Kate took a deep breath and pushed her fear and lustful speculation aside as she tried to view the situation objectively—or at least without gibbering fearfully or drooling lustfully. If she was going to get out of this, he was the one she had to talk round, she decided, weighing up her opposition objectively. What she saw was not wildly encouraging. She’d seen rock faces with more give than that chiselled jawline.
‘Oh, yes, I’m just wild about being jumped on in the dark by some stupid big thug,’ she was frustrated into commenting bitterly. She prodded her aching ribs tentatively. ‘I’ll probably be black and blue tomorrow, which isn’t a good look in a bikini…’ she grumbled, even though she favoured one-piece bathing suits. Talking, even if she was talking rubbish, gave her time to think… At least, that was the theory…
‘If I’m such a vicious thug of limited intelligence, shouldn’t you be treating me with a little more respect…?’
The man had a point and, as for the intelligence part, if those alert eyes were any indication at all he had a brain like a steel trap.
‘Is that a threat?’
‘If I threaten you, you’ll know about it.’
‘I see not a threat, just a boast.’ With dismay, she saw a flicker of interest enter those laser-like eyes—she didn’t want his interest. Her release from this depended on him considering her harmless and an air of stupidity wouldn’t do her case any harm either. Despite this conviction, she couldn’t stop herself adding, ‘I’m normally prepared to give anyone the benefit of the doubt, but in this instance I don’t think there’s any if about it. You are a vicious thug and yes, I probably should shut up, but when I’m nervous I babble…always have done…’
‘I don’t think you’re nervous,’ he cut in smoothly. ‘I think that under that wide-eyed candour you’re as hard as nails. Did you arrange to meet Gonzalez here? Or did he perhaps ask you to pick something up for him? Does he know we’re on to him? Well?’
‘It won’t do you any good to bully me.’ She saw a flicker of amazement chase across his strong-boned features and wondered if she was being daring or just plain stupid to antagonise him. The truth was, she couldn’t help herself; something about this man made her want to score points…
‘I am not a bully!’ he refuted in an irritated steely drawl.
She smiled in polite disbelief and heard what might have been his even white teeth grinding. ‘And it won’t do you any good,’ she elaborated. ‘Because I’ve not the faintest idea what you’re talking about.’ She shook her head so emphatically that the hood of her sweat top slipped off her head.
One dark brow rose as her silver-blonde tresses tumbled free from the loose knot she’d hastily confined them in on her head. Her stomach lurched as, with studied insolence, those electric-blue eyes moved over her body pausing overly long in significant areas.
Kate’s first instinct was to cover herself with her hands. She almost immediately saw how ludicrous and demeaning her response to the earthy sexual appraisal was, and let her hands fall away; in doing so she saw the strands of dark hair caught in her fist.
Unobtrusively she wriggled her fingers to dislodge them; it didn’t seem wise to remind someone with such violent inclinations of the no doubt painful moment when her fingers had become blindly entangled in his hair—lush, silky hair, she recalled. Her fingertips tingled uncomfortably as her brain replayed the sensation. With a head of hair like that, she thought practically, he wasn’t going to miss the little bit she had ripped out.
‘Or maybe you knew he wasn’t here… Maybe this is a bit of private enterprise…? You were taking advantage of his absence to help yourself?’ He fired the fresh volley of questions at her like bullets without removing his unnerving gaze from her face for even a second. ‘What was she about to take out of the drawer, Serge?’
It was spooky. This man it seemed didn’t feel the need to blink—but then he probably had iced water running through his veins, not blood, she thought, rubbing her arms where a rash of goosebumps had broken out.
‘It’s true I didn’t come here by accident exactly,’ Kate admitted with discomfort as the silent second man, moving with surprising speed for one so large, headed towards the chest of drawers.
Apprehension made Kate’s pulse rate soar, an acceptable thing to happen to the most cool-headed of individuals, given the circumstances; the problem was, Kate knew it was only part of the story—there was in fact a much more significant factor. The main reason for the state of near-collapse of her nervous system was—that man! She glared angrily up at the stranger’s dark saturnine face and her insides tightened another painful notch.
The man projected raw sexuality like a force field; she’d never come across anything like it! However, now was no time to analyse her curiously strong reaction to her cold-eyed interrogator; she needed to be clear headed and focused.
Being clear-headed wasn’t as easy as it sounded when you couldn’t rid yourself of a nasty, nagging suspicion. What if Susie wasn’t the only Anderson who was attracted by danger…? Especially when it came so spectacularly packaged. Oh, God, I’m so shallow! In the future she definitely wouldn’t be making so free with her superior sniffs and pitying looks, Kate decided, swallowing a large dose of humility.
‘I came here to retrieve something, but it doesn’t belong to this Mr Gonzalez. It’s…mine.’ She kept her voice cool enough but she couldn’t stop her eyes darting nervously in the direction of the bulky figure who was sifting through the contents of the drawer, which were now scattered on the ground.
A combination of nerves and the heat in the room made Kate’s thin sweatshirt cling damply to her back; sweat pooled uncomfortably in the hollow between her breasts. Conscious of the constant presence of those piercing blue eyes drilling into her skull, she licked her lips nervously.
She’d studied enough guilty people to know she was displaying all the classic signs of guilt herself.
‘She was holding this, I think, Javier.’
Kate couldn’t stop herself from lunging wildly forwards for the parcel of photographs as they passed between the two men. ‘They’re mine!’ she yelled.
For several stubborn seconds she resisted the compulsion of fingers like iron which closed mercilessly around her wrist before her stiffly clenched fingers unfurled. Tears of pain and frustration standing out in her eyes, she glared resentfully up at her persecutor.
‘You’ve no right…’ Her voice faded away as the one she now knew was called Javier slid one long finger under the sealed opening of the package. Paralysed by horror, she watched as he withdrew one glossy print and held it up.
Kate’s face flamed as his clinical glance moved from the photo in his hand to her and back again before he slid it back in. He pulled out a strip of negatives and held it up to the light. His nostrils
