Hopefully in a store she could lose him. She didn’t know what she would do once she evaded him…she’d deal with that particular dilemma when the time came.
“You don’t, uh, breast-feed?” His face reddened slightly.
She shook her head, also feeling the warmth of a blush. “Apparently stress plays havoc with a body. Let’s go.” She stood.
He shook his head and for a brief moment regret flashed in his eyes. “Sorry, it’s safer if I go. You stay here.” He pulled his belt off and approached her.
“Wha-what are you doing?” she asked, backing away from him.
“I’m sorry, Colette, but I can’t let you run again.”
She bumped against the wall. “I won’t. I won’t run,” she exclaimed.
“Don’t make this difficult.” He whirled her around and pulled her hands behind her back. Despite herstruggle, he managed to tie her hands together with his belt.
He scooped her up into his arms and placed her in the center of the bed where he’d been lying. As Colette attempted to get up, Hank unplugged the phone cord from the wall, then from the back of the phone and fastened it through the belt around her hands to the headboard of the bed.
“What are you doing? Are you crazy?” Colette yelled. She felt like a young steer, lassoed and helplessly tied.
“I’d be crazy to trust you,” he said as he pulled a handkerchief from his back pocket.
Impotent tears sprang to Colette’s eyes as he once again approached her and tied the handkerchief around her mouth, effectively gagging any of her further protests.
For a long moment his gaze held hers as he remained bending over her. His dark eyes flickered with an indefinable emotion and he reached out and gently brushed a strand of her hair away from her forehead. “I’m sorry it has to be this way,” he whispered as his hand lingered on the side of her face and his eyes pierced to her soul.
Despite her anger, beyond her fear, another emotion appeared, desire evoked by his touch. It surged, as strong as a memory, as familiar as the hand that spawned it. Why? Why did the touch of his hand not only produce a swift heat of desire, but also the whisper of sweet recollection?
His eyes flashed again, this time dark and cold. He stood and moved toward the other bed. “I’ll take the baby with me. A little insurance that if you happento get untied you won’t do anything stupid.” He picked up the sleeping child, who cuddled against his broad chest. “I shouldn’t be long.”
With these final words, he disappeared out the door.
Again hot tears burned at Colette’s eyes. What kind of a man was he to leave her like this? She concentrated on not crying, knowing if she did her nose would stuff and the handkerchief across her mouth would make it difficult to breathe. Although it would serve him right to return and find her dead, suffocated to death.
She didn’t even attempt to get free. The moment he’d decided to take Brook with him, he’d won this particular round. But there would come another time, another chance to escape.
There was no way she was going to allow him to take her to California to testify in a trial she knew would put a target on her head. Somehow, someway she’d let Cameron Collier know he had nothing to fear from her and then he’d leave her alone.
If it was just herself she had to worry about, perhaps she’d feel differently about testifying. But she wasn’t alone. She had Brook to consider. Brook needed her alive, not with a bounty on her head.
She might feel differently if she had somebody in her life to support her, somebody who could make her feel secure and loved no matter what choice she made. But she didn’t. It wasn’t fair to put this kind of life-and-death burden on her sisters, and she had no idea who or where Brook’s father was.
She was alone…except for Hank. Hopefully hecould keep her safe until she could talk to Cameron Collier and tell him to call off his troops.
As she thought of that moment when Hank’s touch had pulled forth a violent burst of desire, she wondered, as Hank kept her safe from Collier’s men, who would keep her safe from Hank?
