Into the Flames (Perilous Connections: Book Two)

BOOK: Into the Flames (Perilous Connections: Book Two)
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Chapter One

 

 

Daphne

 

 

The man standing silently in the early morning shadows in
my room is not
Nate, my
husband
of barely one day
.

The
thought crashes through my mind like a bulldozer through
a
silk
en
fence and wi
th a rush my insides clench as
equal parts fear and anger collide in me.

I
fling myself from
the
warm
bed with a lithe movement
borne from climbing too many fruit trees
in my youth
.
I land almost silently on the wooden floors,
close to my closed window,
and
m
y naked body
settles into complete stillness.

But m
y breath starts coming loudly, leaking with fear.
“Who are
you?
What the hell are you doing in my home
?”
I
focus
fiercely o
n his
darkened
face which I cannot
make out in the dim light of dawn and that makes me
more afraid
than anything else.

He doesn’t reply, send
ing
further
chill
s
down my spine. H
e hold
s
his body so still that
I’
m remind
ed of a patient, sinister ghost who is waiting
to
savor the first
taste
of
a
vengeance
long sought.

I force down
my rising fear, tense my body. Nate had kidna
pped me, forced me to lie, and then had married me all against my wishes.
Only to vanish from my life hours later.
What could
this man do
that c
ould be worse
?

One thing was for certain
,
I would not go quietly this time nor will I suffer this bastard to lay his h
ands on me, not without a fight and a whole lot
of
screaming.

“No
t bad
.” The stranger’s voice is
lightly
amused
and
confident as his gaze flickers down my
naked
body.

I
flin
ch at the coarseness of his
words
but I brutally suppress
the urge
to cover
myself
from his rude gaze.

Finding Nate
hidden in my trolley
yesterday at work
had stiffened my backb
one and I remind myself
that I
can handle whoever this man
is.
But that doesn’t
excuse
the fact that
he has broken into my home
!

I toss my head back defiantly, glare at him.

I
don’t care who
the hell you are
b
ut
you have five seconds to get
out of m
y house
o
r I’m calling the police.

Deliberately I keep my voice calm and low
. Aubrey and Elaine should still be asleep in
the adjoining
rooms and I know
instinctively that their
presence would only worsen
my
situation.

T
he stranger c
ocks his head to the side.

Blackthorne
always did have the
damnd
est
luck when it came to
getting
fresh cunts.” He
leans back and sniffs the closed air in the room like a bloodhound on a scent.

Blackthorne
!
That’s
Nate’s surname and now mine. This stranger wants my husba
nd and has barged into my room at five in the morning to get him!
But
Nate
’s not here. He’
s gone just like he promised
, leaving behind
the
payment for my
services
I thought bitterly.

Black fury
pours through me for these two men, but I direct all of it t
owards the
arrogant bastard standing in front of me.

But
I don’t mo
ve towards him
. S
pending yesterday with
Nate has taught me
to be cautious of all strangers, especially silent men who turn up in unexpected places.

And d
anger oozes from this stranger
like a broken sewer under a house.

A low laugh
comes
out of his mouth and my body rustles
in response
to the
growing
threat. H
e shifts a half
step
closer
,
the first substantive movement from him.

And suddenly a shard of
morning
light from the
approaching
day
pierces through the window and
I
am able to
solidify the source of
the danger I feel from him.

And it is everywhere. His dark clothing, which match
es
the same shade of
his
hair,
even his eyes
look black
, set like shards of obsidian in his
ruthless face.
My gaze falls lower and I see in
his
right
hand
the glint which only metal can give off
. It takes my mind a few seconds to wrap itself around the fact that he is holding a
knife.

He gr
ins wide
ly at
my frightened countenance.

“Tell me,” he
flicks the blade expertly from one hand to the other
, handling it with the precision of one long
accustomed to its weight and special use
s
. H
e
cocks his head to
the
side,
his dark eyes fixed intently on me
,
reveling in my fear,
“is
Blackthorne
as good
as the women swear
?”

A lump of
shame wedges in my throat.
I’
m
immediately
assailed by the need to haul the rumpled covers from
the bed to toss around my
naked
body,
or
better yet
dash from the room to scrub myself raw
under the blast of the shower
.
I resist
both impulses
with a Herculean effort at
con
trol.

Nate slept around?
I shouldn’t be surprised.
I probably was one in a long line.
Had
he paid
any of those other women twenty thousand dollars for the privilege? A
piece of my heart goes back under
and I flinch
as I absorb
its loss.

“Come on,” he taunts
, snapping my gaze back to him, inte
rrupting my pity
rant
, “don’t act like you didn’t enjoy it. From what I’ve sampled black women are wild in
bed if given the correct amount
of incentive.”

I move before I know what I’m about. My
chest
is heaving when I
manage
to stop
myself
barely a foot away from him, my eyes narrows
furiously as his
insult bur
ns it
s way too deep
.
“You don’
t know one thing about me
,”
I hiss
.

He snorts dismissively.

Sure, bitch. Don’t tell me that
your
little performance with the security guard
,” here deadly anger creeps into his voice,
“which
helped
Blackthorne
e
s
cape
just when I had him cornered was solely out of the goodness of your heart.

The
underlying
rage
in his voice causes my heart to speed up its frantic beat
ing
. He
had
known what had happened. That Nate
had purchased my help to sneak him unseen
off of Sunset Cove, the hotel where I worked.

But why
had he been following us
?
Why did he even care?

I am
sick and t
ired of not knowing what game Nate has made me a
pawn
in. I pin the angry stranger
with a challenging stare.
“Why are you here?

A
lthough I tell myself I don’t want to know, the next words tumble
out, “
what has
Nate done
?”

The
relax
ed
lines of his body
instantly
become taut, his dark eyes bear unflinching into mine
.
“So you really are nothing better than
a
stupid whore
?
Blackthorne
used you and
you don’t know why
,” he waves a dismissive hand as if the insult he’d just dealt me was insignificant, “b
u
t that’s neither here nor there.
Where has
Blackthorne
gone
?”

I toss my head and eye him with as much disdain as I can muster.
“I don’t know.
Why don’
t you get out of my house and go
find him yourself?

He stops,
al
l traces of amusement wipes from his dark face, he lifts the knife which glistens wickedly
in
the fresh light zooming in through the window
behind me
.
“Listen you little cunt, tell me where
Blackthorne
has gone and I won’t mar those pretty little breasts of yours. It would be a shame to slice away the skin, see what
it looks like underneath
. Don’t you think?”

I gasp at the horrifying picture he ha
s painted
and m
y hands fly up to
cover my breasts.

His
mouth thins in cruel satisfaction.

You
r
fear makes my job so enjoyable
.”

Stupidly I realize too late th
at this man, whoever he is,
is going
to hu
rt me
… or kill me. And
it’s
all because I had helped
Nate.

I suck in a fortifying breath. I have to do something to get him to leave me
alone, I meet his relentless gaze.
“Nate
went to Piccadilly.”

Rage contorts his face. H
e cuts off the distance between us
so swiftly
that
I can’t move
.
I’
m glued to the spot in horror
as h
e raises his
knife-less hand, palm wide,
and
my entire body freezes as I wait
for the br
utal blow.

 

 

Nate

 

 

I can’t
make
a sou
nd. M
y body is set to
auto-pilot as I soundlessly pull Daphne’s
bedroom door
open.
The entire scene
imprints itse
lf on my mind in
less than a
heartbeat.
Emmanuel
towering over Daphne, his
hand
raised
for a blow
aimed at
Daphne’
s terror ridden face.
H
e
pivots like the
freakin
killer
he is
at my entrance but my forward
momentum is too much for some
one of his
considerable reflexes
and
we go crashing
backward o
nto the ground in a snarling, angry heap.

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