Intently staring at her, he placed a knee on the foot of the bed. The next instant, he had her pinned beneath him. His harsh breath hit her full in the face. Edie figured he had a good hundred pounds on her.
Unable to move, barely able to breathe, she stared mutely at her assailant.
She had only two choices: submit or fight. Either way, when all was said and done, she figured she’d end up dead. At that thought, Edie heard a buzzing in her ears and the rapist-cum-murderer’s unshaven face blurred at the edges.
Mind made up, Edie clenched her jaw and stared at the ceiling.
Pushing his hand between their hips, the monster unbuttoned his trousers. In the same instant his mobile vibrated, Edie able to feel the pulse against her bare hip.
‘Fucking shit.’
Removing his hand from between their two bodies, he reached for the phone clipped to his waistband. ‘Not a word,’ he warned, supporting himself on his elbows.
Relieved to have some of his weight removed, Edie nodded obediently.
‘Braxton. Yes, sir, I got her.’ He frowned, his brows drawing together in the middle. ‘No, sir, she’s all right… Yes, sir… I’ll have her there in fifteen minutes.’
Disconnecting the call, he snapped his mobile shut and clipped it back on his waistband. Muttering some of the most foul-mouthed profanities she’d ever heard, he pushed himself to his knees, clamping a hand around her upper arm as he did so. With no explanation as to what he was doing, or why he was doing it, he pulled her off the bed.
Edie had no idea who had been on the other end of the line. And she didn’t much care. She only knew that she’d been given a reprieve.
Hand still wrapped round her upper arm, he dragged her over to the mantel, retrieving his gun, then shoved her through the open bathroom door.
‘Get dressed,’ he ordered, gesturing to the pile of clothes on the toilet seat.
Bending at the waist, Edie picked up her discarded bra. ‘Can I at least dry off? I’m still wet.’
‘Bitch, do I look like I care?’
58
Ashamed of himself, C?dmon hoped that a heart-felt apology would smooth things over. If it didn’t, he would woo Edie with lamb jalfrezi and cardamom pudding. He glanced at the brown takeaway bag clutched in his hand, hoping the peace offering would lead to improved relations. And that improved relations would lead to something decidedly more intimate. More romantic.
As he climbed the well-worn treads that led to their garret room, he wondered if the day would ever come when he could make a full confession. When he could freely and openly tell Edie about the pain of love lost, of vengeance sought and claimed, of his eventual emergence from an alcohol-induced fog. He thought that because of her own travails she would understand. Maybe even accept.
‘And a warm fuzzy hug would be nice too,’ he said aloud, chortling.
Still laughing as he reached the top of the stairs, the chuckle caught in his throat.
The door to their room was ajar.
Afraid of what he would find on the other side, he slowly pushed the door all the way open and entered the room. At a glance, he could see that some sort of commotion had taken place. Almost immediately his gaze landed on the large dark patch that stained the tousled coverlet. Setting the brown bag on the dresser, he walked over to the bed. His heart painfully thudding against his chest, he placed his hand upon the wet spot. He breathed a sigh of relief. It wasn’t blood.
Maybe not as well as she might be, but definitely alive.
Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted the Virgin bag on the floor next to the bed, upended, emptied of its contents. He next scanned the room, searching for a ransom note. There wasn’t one, although he didn’t need a scrawled scrap of paper to know Edie had been kidnapped because they wanted him.
Stunned by the abduction, he went into the bathroom, heading straight for the sink. Turning on the cold- water tap, he rinsed his face.
He knew the drill: wait for further instructions. Eventually he would be contacted. If their plan had been to kill Edie, they would have left her corpse behind as a warning to him. But there was no sprawled, blood-splattered body. Her abduction was simply a means to an end.
He reached for the neatly folded bath towel and dried his face.
Taking deep, measured breaths, he walked back into the bedroom. Again, he checked the room, searching for anything that could be used as a weapon. When the time came to confront his enemies, he didn’t want to stand before them defenceless. His gaze alighted on the upholstered chair. The chair where Edie had sat earlier, filing a broken nail.
Having no recollection of her returning the file to the shoulder bag, he walked over to the chair. The file not being in view, he slid his hand around the chair cushion. Coming up empty-handed, he removed the cushion from the chair.
There, between two squashed crisps and a boiled sweet, dully gleaming in the lamplight, was the nail file. While hardly a honed broadsword, it would have to do.
He replaced the cushion.
Bloody hell, but he wanted a drink. Needed a drink to –
Lowering himself into the lumpy chair, he inhaled the exotic scents of cardamom and cumin mingled with the more prosaic smell of lemon-scented bathwater.
59
‘I mean you no harm,’ Stanford MacFarlane said as he ushered her into the room.
Edie snorted, the memory of her near rape all too vivid. ‘Yeah, and British beef is safe to eat. Guess you’re unaware of the fact that your henchman sexually assaulted me.’
MacFarlane stared at her. She guessed him to be in his mid- to late-fifties, the sharply defined widow’s peak in the greying buzz cut being the giveaway. At one time he had probably been handsome, but years spent in the sun had turned age lines into deeply incised creases, giving him a stern gnome-like visage. A man of medium height, he had an erect military posture and an air of command that bordered on the egomaniacal.
‘You lie,’ he said dismissively.
‘I should have known you’d stand by your man.’
‘I will always stand by a man of God.’
Shot down, Edie glanced around her, taking in what appeared to be an old mill, the metal cogs and wheels of the original machinery still in place on the other side of the room. Able to hear water running beneath the floorboards, she figured the mill was located on a stream or river.
