Chapter
1
Melanie had never been so frightened in
her life. Her muscles and bones had turned to mush and her nerves quivered from
fear. She felt a trickle of sweat running down the center of her back and
wondered how she’d gotten herself into such a jam. As a conservative, middle
class working girl, her life was normally uneventful and too boring for words.
Even though she workedas an office assistant at the local police
department, her job was routine and fairly monotonous. Her personal life had
been equally dull until Detective Dominick Roarke joined the force a few months
ago. Sparks had flown between them from the first meeting, but they both had a
lot of emotional baggage and neither wanted to risk involvement.
Melanie had never been lucky in love. The
last time her heart had been broken, she’d sworn off men, especially the
strong, silent type. Rumor had it that a bitter divorce in Dominick’s past had
made him equally wary.
Their attraction for each other had been
steadily escalating over the past few weeks, yet they’d managed to resist
temptation. Then some madman had kidnapped Roarke, and she’d volunteered to act
as a decoy to find him.
As the viselike grip on her arms
tightened, nearly cutting off her circulation, she fought for composure. Gagged
and blindfolded, she couldn’t see her abductors, but each of them had a beefy
hand wrapped around her upper arms. They forced her to walk between them,
reminding her of twin marble columns:very big,
very strong and completely unyielding.
When they’d grabbed her from her car,
she’d pretended to fight them, but all she’d accomplished was losing her shoes.
They’d roughly ushered her into a building and then an elevator. Now they were
dragging her to a penthouse apartment.She’d
figured out that much by the plush carpeting, the classical music in the
elevator, and the unique smell of wealth all around her.
A door opened, she was tugged inside, and
then it closed with a firm click. The carpet was even softer and thicker under
her bare feet. The smell of the room was a curious mix of leather and sweat.
Melanie sensed the presence of more people. Her captors tightened their grip,
bringing her to a halt between their massive bodies. She got the impression she
was being presented to someone or several someones. Hopefully it was the same
someone who held Roarke captive.
“Miss Branningon, “
”
said a deep
masculine voice.
She turned her head to her right,
following the sound of the cultured, slightly accented voice. She recognized it
as belonging to Dwight Clayburn, a very wealthy hotelier who frequently made
the local news. He was currently under investigation by the local authorities
for the disappearance of his wife.
“How nice of you to join us, “
”
he continued
smoothly. “Detective Roarke and I are thrilled to have your company. Aren’t we, d
D
etective?”
Melanie strained to hear a response,
desperately hoping that the police lieutenant’s ploy had worked and that she’d
been led to Roarke.
When no response was made, Clayburn’s
Clayburn’s
tone grew censorious. “Come now, d
D
etective,
don’t be shy. Miss Branningon has gone to a lot of trouble to find you. The
least you can do is say hello.”
The unmistakable thud of a man being hit
in the head made Melanie’s stomach roll. She tensed even more, wondering how
badly Roarke was hurt. He’d confiscated a video that proved Clayburn had killed
his wife. After reporting it to the lieutenant, he’d stashed the tape for safekeeping
while he responded to another police emergency. Then Clayburn had kidnapped him
in an effort to recover the damning evidence.
The hotelier was obviously willing to
face additional charges of kidnapping and assault to get the tape. Her
abduction proved that he hadn’t been successful in prying information from
Roarke. Melanie knew the Clayburn planned to use her to get information from
him. She just didn’t know how he intended to use her.
1
Melanie had never been so frightened in
her life. Her muscles and bones had turned to mush and her nerves quivered from
fear. She felt a trickle of sweat running down the center of her back and
wondered how she’d gotten herself into such a jam. As a conservative, middle
class working girl, her life was normally uneventful and too boring for words.
Even though she workedas an office assistant at the local police
department, her job was routine and fairly monotonous. Her personal life had
been equally dull until Detective Dominick Roarke joined the force a few months
ago. Sparks had flown between them from the first meeting, but they both had a
lot of emotional baggage and neither wanted to risk involvement.
Melanie had never been lucky in love. The
last time her heart had been broken, she’d sworn off men, especially the
strong, silent type. Rumor had it that a bitter divorce in Dominick’s past had
made him equally wary.
Their attraction for each other had been
steadily escalating over the past few weeks, yet they’d managed to resist
temptation. Then some madman had kidnapped Roarke, and she’d volunteered to act
as a decoy to find him.
As the viselike grip on her arms
tightened, nearly cutting off her circulation, she fought for composure. Gagged
and blindfolded, she couldn’t see her abductors, but each of them had a beefy
hand wrapped around her upper arms. They forced her to walk between them,
reminding her of twin marble columns:very big,
very strong and completely unyielding.
When they’d grabbed her from her car,
she’d pretended to fight them, but all she’d accomplished was losing her shoes.
They’d roughly ushered her into a building and then an elevator. Now they were
dragging her to a penthouse apartment.She’d
figured out that much by the plush carpeting, the classical music in the
elevator, and the unique smell of wealth all around her.
A door opened, she was tugged inside, and
then it closed with a firm click. The carpet was even softer and thicker under
her bare feet. The smell of the room was a curious mix of leather and sweat.
Melanie sensed the presence of more people. Her captors tightened their grip,
bringing her to a halt between their massive bodies. She got the impression she
was being presented to someone or several someones. Hopefully it was the same
someone who held Roarke captive.
“Miss Branningon, “
”
said a deep
masculine voice.
She turned her head to her right,
following the sound of the cultured, slightly accented voice. She recognized it
as belonging to Dwight Clayburn, a very wealthy hotelier who frequently made
the local news. He was currently under investigation by the local authorities
for the disappearance of his wife.
“How nice of you to join us, “
”
he continued
smoothly. “Detective Roarke and I are thrilled to have your company. Aren’t we, d
D
etective?”
Melanie strained to hear a response,
desperately hoping that the police lieutenant’s ploy had worked and that she’d
been led to Roarke.
When no response was made, Clayburn’s
Clayburn’s
tone grew censorious. “Come now, d
D
etective,
don’t be shy. Miss Branningon has gone to a lot of trouble to find you. The
least you can do is say hello.”
The unmistakable thud of a man being hit
in the head made Melanie’s stomach roll. She tensed even more, wondering how
badly Roarke was hurt. He’d confiscated a video that proved Clayburn had killed
his wife. After reporting it to the lieutenant, he’d stashed the tape for safekeeping
while he responded to another police emergency. Then Clayburn had kidnapped him
in an effort to recover the damning evidence.
The hotelier was obviously willing to
face additional charges of kidnapping and assault to get the tape. Her
abduction proved that he hadn’t been successful in prying information from
Roarke. Melanie knew the Clayburn planned to use her to get information from
him. She just didn’t know how he intended to use her.
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