Page 4 of No Escape

Chapter Two

Before Sarah had a chance to scream he threw himself at her, clamping his large hand over her mouth and pinning her against the tile wall with his large body. The shower was still running, pounding down on them and soaking his hair and clothes instantly.

Her eyes widened with alarm. Her first instinct was to struggle, but he held her as easily as if she was no more than a child. His face was so close she could feel the heat of his breath against her. Eyes that appeared as black as volcanic rock locked onto hers with the impact of a predator zeroing in on its prey, not allowing her to look away. His rugged expression was fierce.

She whimpered beneath his callused palm, trying wildly to move her head so that she could alert somebody, even the goons guarding her, but everything she tried to put into play against him was held immovable. Her legs were pinned into place by his, her thighs and hips shockingly aware of the raw unleashed power in the lower half of his powerful body. Sarah’s breasts were crushed against an unyielding chest made of solid rock.

Is he going to rape me? She tried to read the answer in the fierce eyes glaring down at her, unable to ascertain what his intentions were by the firm set of his jaw. Part of her mind registered the fact if he had rape on his mind he wouldn’t be wearing a black T-shirt, green army fatigues and boots.

Did he speak English? Her question was answered in the next second.

“Don’t panic!” he whispered sharply, so close his lips actually brushed against her cheek.

Don’t panic? He wasn't in her position. She continued to strain against him, fear replacing the blood in her veins. “My name’s Clint. I’ve come to take you out of here.”

Sarah didn’t dare believe him; it was all a trick. She wouldn’t put anything past her host, including giving her a taste of freedom while she was at her most vulnerable. This was just another one of his men sent there to tease her, to play with her a little until her hopes were up. She knew a real sense of fear when he shifted his upper body and the arm across her chest slipped downward, allowing him quite an eyeful if he cared to look. A rush of hot embarrassment spread quickly through her. She could feel every breath he took and tried again to dislodge him.

His eyes were sharp and assessing. “I don’t have time to fucking explain right now. You’re going to have to trust me. If you make a sound you’ll get us both killed. Understand?” The tone of his rough words sliced through the air like a knife through soft butter.

Sure, Sarah believed him. She nodded, but the minute she began to feel him relax and start to remove his hand she pressed on with her own attack. As pathetic as it was, it was over before it began. Hardly getting in a mouse size squeak, he easily pinned her against the wall again with a murderous glint in his eyes. He leaned in close, threateningly. This time there was no question as to what his mood was, he was furious.

“You stupid bitch! I’m here to help you! You might not care about your ass, but I sure as hell don’t want mine getting blown away!” The words were grated between his clenched teeth, close to her ear. And Sarah shivered violently because she could easily picture those sharp teeth taking a bite out of her. “If it wasn’t for Susan, you’d be on your fucking own right now! Got it?”

Susan? He knew Susan? More important than that though, he knew she wasn’t Susan. He might not realize it but he’d just said the only thing that would let her believe, if not trust him. Sarah relaxed, willing him to see she finally understood him.

“Do I finally have your cooperation?” he demanded, his deep drawl barely heard above the sound of running water.

Sarah nodded vigorously, praying Clint believed her. When it appeared he wasn’t quite ready to trust her, she purposely relaxed fully against him. Something in the change of his eyes, his hard body growing less taut, convinced her. He slowly removed his hand from her mouth, shifting his weight until he was just an inch away. Sarah couldn’t blame him for not trusting her.

She didn’t have to glance down to know the tips of her breasts were still brushing against him; she could feel the rock hardness of his wet chest. She knew it would take more than an inch between them to break contact and prayed that his eyes didn’t wander. But his gaze remained focused on hers when he reached down to turn off the faucet.

“How much time before they come back for you?” His tone dropped in volume once the shower stopped running.

As if on cue there was a loud rap on the door. “Now,” Sarah remarked in a low tone, her glance darting to the door before returning to him.

“Will they both be outside?” He leaned in close, keeping his voice low and even, ignoring Sarah when she sucked in her breath. She didn’t like sharing her space, especially with a man who looked a thousand times more dangerous than Raul Rodriguez and any of his men.

There was no denying the glare in his dark eyes as she tried to lean further into the unyielding tile against her back. “Not usually, just the big mean one.”

“Come on! The boss won’t like it if I have to break down the door!” His pounding caused it to rattle on its hinges.

“He’ll do it, too,” she whispered, shivering. “Please, I need a towel.”

“Come on.” Clint grabbed her by the hand, pulling her out of the tub behind him. “I want you to entice him in here.”

What?! She dug in her heels, expelling an audible gasp of shock. “You what?” On their way past the vanity, her hand shot out, snatching up one of the neatly folded towels.

“Do I have to spell it out for you, lady? Get him in here and distract him.”

When he turned his back to her, Sarah tried to cover herself with what turned out to be a hand towel. She swore beneath her breath, glancing up in time to see his eyes giving her the once-over— twice—his lips twitching. Her eyes darted to the mirror and she wanted to die when she saw what he saw. She might as well be naked! Her under garments were transparent and hiding nothing. To make matters worse, she felt her nipples grow hard.

Damn him! His rugged, square-boned face and the interested gleam in his eyes did nothing to convince her that she was any safer with him than the man outside her door. Her first instinct was to scratch his eyes out for being amused at her embarrassing situation. Her common sense warned her to take care where he was concerned.

“And how do I do that?” She couldn’t decide what needed covering the most by the inadequate towel. Either way he was going to know just about every flaw she had. Experience reminded her that if she sucked in her stomach it would force her breasts out, which at the moment he couldn’t seem to draw his gaze off.

“How do you think? Come on to him. Let him get in a few kisses, squeeze your ass. Whatever it takes to get him in here, the door shut, and his guard down.”

Her brows drew together in a frown. “You don’t ask for very much,” she whispered sharply. “In case you haven’t noticed, I’m not exactly centerfold material. I’ve never had to play a femme fatale.”

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