The Forever Dream (17 page)

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Authors: Iris Johansen

Tags: #Fiction, #General, #Fiction - General

BOOK: The Forever Dream
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"Not by any fault of yours," she said bitterly. "You certainly believe in hedging your bets, don't you? Kidnapping wasn't enough—you had to give me that damned injection!"

"The paradynoline?" His brows lifted in surprise. "I thought you'd realize it was required in that situation. It was essential that Dr. Ryker be kept contented in my absence."

"Well, I'm happy to say that your little plan failed miserably," she said between her teeth. "I can assure you that Ryker has been far from content since you've been gone."

"Yes, you've not been occupying his bed, I understand." He was frowning in perplexity. "I didn't count on Dr. Ryker's not insisting on it once I'd arranged things so efficiently. It was quite a surprise to me." His expression cleared. "However, you appear to have kept things interesting enough to hold his attention even without a physical involvement. So bringing you here was definitely the correct move. Now that I'm back I can take care of any adjustments that need to be made."

"Adjustments?" Her expression was blank with surprise.

"Well, you can't expect a man with Dr. Ryker's physical needs to continue like this indefinitely," he said calmly. "It's been over four weeks since Dr. Ryker's had a woman, and we have to assume he's very much on edge.

There's even a possibility that he may become impatient and restless again if the situation's not fixed soon. That can't be allowed, of course."

"And just how do you intend to 'fix' it?" she asked, her fists clenching unconsciously at her sides. "Another injection of paradynoline, perhaps?"

"I'll have to think about that," he answered thoughtfully. "It didn't seem too effective the first time, but that could have been because the dosage was comparatively light. I'll have to discuss it with Dr. Jeffers before I come to a decision. There don't appear to be many other avenues to explore. It's an exceptionally touchy problem to handle, considering Dr. Ryker's aversion to using force in your case."

Her question had been sarcastic, but the man was actually serious! She felt a shiver of heat run through her as she recalled those hours of mindless sensuality she'd known the morning in Jared's arms. Combined with the powerful natural attraction she'd admitted to herself, she'd be no more than a puppet whose strings were pulled by Jared . . . and the man standing before her. She couldn't even bear to think about it. "No," she said, her eyes wide and frightened in her suddenly pale face. "No, you wouldn't do that to me."

"What?" he asked, his face still clouded with absorption with his "touchy" problem. "Oh, no final decision has been made. I thought I'd made that clear. I'll get back to you later on it." He turned toward the door that led to the sauna area. "Now, I know you want to start your practice, so I'll leave you to get on with it. I apologize again for interfering with your time here." He turned back, and there was again that flicker of admiration on his face. "I understand those practice sessions aren't only long, but require an amazing amount of stamina and self-discipline. Those are qualities that I admire very much, Miss Orlinov. Very much indeed."

For fully half a minute after the door closed behind him she continued to stare at it in bewilderment. It was hard to believe that their conversation had actually taken place. Betz seemed a villain straight out of the funnies, but no cartoon character could ever be this frightening. She hadn't the slightest doubt that once his decision had been made, only something resembling an earthquake registering eight on the Richter scale would keep him from carrying out his plan. And if those plans included her willing presence in Jared's bed, he'd use any method he saw fit to effect that end.

Paradynoline. That threat had frightened her even more than she'd let him see. She closed her eyes and drew a deep, steadying breath. She couldn't let her will be tampered with again like that. Even though she was certain Jared would have nothing to do with Betz's plan, that didn't mean he could prevent her being given the drug. She'd been injected with it once before against his will, and what was to prevent its happening again? A determination on the scale of Betz's was as difficult to fight as a tidal wave moving slowly and inexorably toward shore.

Her lids flew open, and she moved automatically toward the barre, her mind churning furiously. There was no way she could afford to let herself be given that drug. But with Betz back at the chateau, it was a very real possibility. She automatically assumed first position and began grand plies. As always her gaze was fixed on her reflection in one of the mirrors attached to the walls around the barre. That gaze was entirely lacking its usual critical study of the position of her body; in fact her actions were mechanical, her attention far removed from ballet exercises.

She'd already resolved that her next escape attempt must not only be successful, but executed very soon. Now, that timing had to be accelerated by the urgency

engendered by Betz's arrival. Tonight. It must be tonight.

Once the decision was made, she felt her spirits lift and the fear ebb out of her. Yes, tonight would not only satisfy the urgency she felt, but quite possibly it would catch Betz's men off-guard. They wouldn't expect an escape attempt so soon after yesterday's fiasco. Well, they'd get a little surprise, wouldn't they? She grinned at her reflection in the mirror. Now for the escape route itself, she thought.

The road. Here, too, the element of surprise might be on her side, and now that she knew the location of the checkpoint, there was every chance that she'd be able to circumvent it without being observed. She'd be on foot this time, and, she hoped, they wouldn't expect that either. It was about three miles to the checkpoint and Lord knew how many more to the valley below. She was going to need all her strength to make that journey at a pace that would assure her of finding a town or a farm before Betz was aware of her disappearance and on her trail.

She'd reached the section of barre exercises devoted to the strenuous grand battement, the rapid raising of the leg to its greatest height and its controlled return to the floor. She lowered her pointed toe. She wouldn't go all out, as she usually did. She would conserve her energy, for she would need all the energy she could muster . . . tonight.

Chapter
8

Damn this moonlight! Was it only last night she had blamed the hill moon for her temporary madness? She was going to blame it for considerably more than that if those clouds didn't oblige. She needed the cover of darkness to cross the courtyard and get around the curve in the road before the guard completed his rounds.

She shrank against the stone wall, deep in shadow. Her gaze was fixed worriedly on the sky, watching the clouds; they approached the moon with a laziness that stretched her nerves to the limit. The guard should be back around to the courtyard in another four minutes, according to her calculations. She'd spent three hours here in the shadows four nights ago, observing and timing the guard's movements. If she hadn't had an opportunity to sneak into the back of the van, she'd wanted to be prepared to go out on foot, as she was doing now ... as she would be doing now if those clouds would just cover the moon. She bit her lip in frustration. She didn't dare leave the shadows until the moon was obscured, and she must at least be across the courtyard before the guard rounded the north wall. She could chance his being in the courtyard for the short time it would take her to get around the curve of the road.

Only three minutes to go. With one hand she tugged at the collar of her turtleneck sweater beneath the dark jacket while she clutched a coil of rope in the other. Move, damn you, she commanded the clouds. With maddening slowness, they drifted across the bright sphere, bringing the welcome darkness.

She flew out of the shadows like an arrow shot from a battlement in the chateau long ago, the rubber soles of her tennis shoes skimming over the rough cobbles with sure swiftness. By the time she reached the road she had only one minute to go before the guard would reappear, and already those blasted clouds were rolling through the skies as if fleeing the moon.

She streaked down the road, her braid flying out in back of her and her breath laboring in her lungs as she raced the cloud that could mean her escape or capture. She lost. She was a full fifty yards from the curve in the road when the moonlight suddenly flooded the road with the clarity of daylight. She felt the remaining breath leave her body, and she hesitated for a moment, as if that moonlight were an actual blow striking at her. Lord, it was as bright as a spotlight, and the guard should be rounding the wall right now.

She hadn't thought she could go any faster, but the sudden burst of adrenaline that panic released proved her wrong. Let him be late, she prayed frantically, or let him be thinking of something else. Let him stop for a cigarette, or be looking anywhere but at the road. At any moment she expected to hear a shout and the sound of feet pounding heavily on the cobblestones behind her, but there was no sound except the sharp gasps of her own breathing. Then she'd rounded the curve in the road and was out of sight of the chateau!

Relief washed over her with a force that made her head swim. The first difficulty was overcome and she was

on her way. She slowed her steps and then came to a complete halt. Her heart was pounding painfully in her breast and her knees felt weak as butter from reaction. Now that the first bit was out of the way she had to regain control of her nerves, quiver from the tension produced by the precarious cloud cover. There was still the checkpoint to get past and the rest of the road to the valley to cross before she was free.

She drew several deep, slow breaths and then set out at a deliberate steady trot, covering a great deal of ground without feeling the same physically exhausting ffect of her sprint from the chateau.

Her escape plan had formed the morning she'd found two key pieces of mountain climbing gear in the back of a closet in the gym. Now she carried those items: coil of rope and a grappling hook. Her gaze never wavered from the road ahead. Her mind firmly shut out all fears and worries that could weaken her.

The rock-strewn road was rough under her feet and the crisp autumn breeze cool on her warm cheeks. This was far different from the last experience she'd had with a mountain. It should be a piece of cake in comparison, she assured herself staunchly. Well, perhaps it wouldn't be that simple. Though the physical conditions were certainly easier, she had the more dangerous human factors to contend with . . . and one of those human factors should be in evidence just around the next curve.

Her pace slowed to a walk, and she hugged the inner side of the road, taking as much shelter as she could from the foliage on the side of the cliff. Heaven knew there was little enough to hug, she thought dispiritedly. The road seemed to be cut out of the mountain itself here—a bluff on one side, a sloping verge of perhaps five or six yards on the other side. From the edge of the verge it was a sheer drop to the valley below.

But the verge was the key to her escape. She'd noticed there was a sparse straggle of trees on it near the checkpoint. With any luck she'd be able to use them as cover to slip past the chain link barricade across the road. Despite the moonlight, they should provide enough shadow for her to avoid being seen if she were careful. But that steeply sloping terrain was going to prove tricky. On her previous reconnaissance she'd detected little or no ground cover on the verge, and keeping her footing on an incline that steep until she reached the stand of pines was going to be nearly impossible. Her lips curved in a wry smile as she recalled her words to Jared only two weeks ago. Surefooted or not, she might well fall off this bloody mountain.

Well, that was why she'd brought the rope and the grappling hook, wasn't it? She could secure the rope around her waist and use the grappling hook on the trees, working her way from one to another across that sloping verge until she was past the checkpoint and it was safe to crawl back up on the road.

She'd been expecting it, but her heart still lurched when she came around the bend and saw the brilliant glow of the Coleman lanterns about fifty yards ahead. She instinctively shrank closer to the bluff while her gaze swiftly searched the scene ahead for an alternate route that wouldn't be as risky.

Two steel posts anchored the chain barrier stretched across the road. And the two guards who patrolled it were lounging on the bluff side of the road playing cards, leaning against the padded seats of their overturned motorcycles. She could hear their voices in the clear mountain air, and it gave her a little shock. They sounded so close she might have been right next to them. At least their lanterns were on the bluff side of the road, and if their game was interesting enough, it might take their attention off any noise she might make as she crawled past them. It was difficult to tell from this distance, but she didn't think they were the same guards who had brought her back to the chateau yesterday. In fact, neither one was familiar to her, and she'd thought she'd run across every security guard on the place at one time or another in the past two weeks.

Well, she couldn't stay here all night gawking at them. It was obvious the physical setup hadn't altered, and she was just going to have to keep to her original plan. She took the rope and grappling hook from her shoulder and checked the knot she'd tied in the steel loop of the hook to make sure it was tight, then dropped the grappling hook on the ground while she knotted the other end about her waist with equal care.

There was a burst of laughter from the men playing cards, and it caused her to jump with surprise. She drew a deep breath and forced herself to relax. Easy. This was just a piece of cake, remember? She was going to have to be very cool and certain in the next few minutes, and unsteady nerves would not help her.

She picked up the grappling hook and waited patiently until the clouds once more obscured the moon before dashing across the road and crouching on the edge of the verge for a moment. Then she slowly slid down onto the verge itself, carefully holding on to the trunk of the tree closest to the road. Oh, Lord, it was going to be worse than she'd thought. The earth slid out from under her, and she had to clutch desperately at the pine to keep from sliding with it. The ground seemed to be composed of nothing but loose dirt and shale—it was a wonder it even supported the scraggly pines that bordered the road. Still holding the trunk of the tree with one arm, she cautiously brought the grappling hook

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