Read Online Island Heat (A Sexy Time Travel Romance With a Twist) by Jill Myles - Free Book Online
Authors: Jill Myles
Ads: Link
Licensed Realtor.
It was my business card.
I got to my feet, weak and giddy. I only kept the cards in my purse, so for a card to be here meant that my purse was somewhere nearby. I also kept Chapstick (which I sorely needed), Tic-Tacs (which made my mouth water) and my cell phone (which made me want to sob with joy).
I paced our small campsite, oblivious to my bandaged foot, the bandages of which quickly fell apart after a few steps. Surely there was another business card close to here.
There! A few bushes away, I caught another peep of white and raced towards it. Trembling, I plucked it from the dirt. Another two lay scattered in the dirt about fifty feet away.
I followed the reckless trail of cards, until the tree I’d been told to stay in was no longer in sight, and my heart was hammering in my throat with excitement. If I found my cell phone, I could call out. Surely we’d be able to get satellite service from somewhere around here.
I turned a corner, and lo, there it was. Hanging from a nearby tree-branch over one of the little dirt paths, almost entirely upended on itself and leaking business cards everywhere, was my stylish brown Coach handbag. I gave a small cry of joy at the sight and rushed forward to grab it.
Just before my hands were about to clench around my purse in sheer joy, the ground gave way beneath my feet, and I slid into a muddy pit.
My scream was cut off as mud filled my mouth, and I flailed at the bottom, trying to get my balance. A pit trap. Broken foliage dangled over the top of the pit, and I stared up at my purse, still hanging from the tree, contents dangling ever so sweetly out of reach.
I stood up at the slushy bottom of the pit, my feet sucking and getting stuck in the watery mud, and it made me nervous. I didn’t want to end up in quick-sand, unable to keep my head above the surface. If I stretched my arms up above my head, my fingertips just fell short of the lip of the pit. Frustrated, I slapped against the dirt wall and cursed, looking for a root or something to grab onto.
Up above, the fake foliage atop my pit rustled, and I slid back into the mud, cringing to the far corner of the pit. Visions of the T-Rex filled my mind, and I waited for that long, toothy head to lean over and chew me up and spit me out.
Several dark, hulking figures leaned over the edge of the pit, and in the deepening twilight, I was able to make out the grinning face of Bgha.
“ Meh ,” he said down to me.
Great. My caveman paramour had returned. Salvador was going to be so pissed at me…if he ever found me again.
*** *** ***
The cavemen were able to get me out of the pit with a group effort. I raised my arms – because going with them was preferable to waiting to be eaten – and they hauled me out with callused, brutal hands, their fingers digging into my flesh so hard I was positive I’d have bruises.
They were strong, though, and within moments I was up on the muddy bank, covered in slime and shivering in cold.
Bgha put a proprietary hand on my lower back. “ Meh !”
The others didn’t argue. They figured I was his. No one else was quite so vile and overbearing, after all. They gathered up my purse and bound my hands in front of me with a dirty piece of leather.
With their little spears pricking my back, I was pushed to the front of the small party, a mud-covered, miserable captive. I dragged my aching feet as we went along the small path, eyes stinging from the mud. My wet hair plastered to my face as I swung my head, looking for a hopeful glimpse of Salvador.
I never saw him. A little part of my hopes died with me when I realized he wasn’t coming.
We walked for a few hours, until the moon was high in the sky and I was stumbling into the scenery in exhaustion. I’d thought that we might have stopped earlier than this, but they seemed to want to press on.
Bgha barked something at me. I shook my head, not understanding his language. It was clear soon enough when he
It was my business card.
I got to my feet, weak and giddy. I only kept the cards in my purse, so for a card to be here meant that my purse was somewhere nearby. I also kept Chapstick (which I sorely needed), Tic-Tacs (which made my mouth water) and my cell phone (which made me want to sob with joy).
I paced our small campsite, oblivious to my bandaged foot, the bandages of which quickly fell apart after a few steps. Surely there was another business card close to here.
There! A few bushes away, I caught another peep of white and raced towards it. Trembling, I plucked it from the dirt. Another two lay scattered in the dirt about fifty feet away.
I followed the reckless trail of cards, until the tree I’d been told to stay in was no longer in sight, and my heart was hammering in my throat with excitement. If I found my cell phone, I could call out. Surely we’d be able to get satellite service from somewhere around here.
I turned a corner, and lo, there it was. Hanging from a nearby tree-branch over one of the little dirt paths, almost entirely upended on itself and leaking business cards everywhere, was my stylish brown Coach handbag. I gave a small cry of joy at the sight and rushed forward to grab it.
Just before my hands were about to clench around my purse in sheer joy, the ground gave way beneath my feet, and I slid into a muddy pit.
My scream was cut off as mud filled my mouth, and I flailed at the bottom, trying to get my balance. A pit trap. Broken foliage dangled over the top of the pit, and I stared up at my purse, still hanging from the tree, contents dangling ever so sweetly out of reach.
I stood up at the slushy bottom of the pit, my feet sucking and getting stuck in the watery mud, and it made me nervous. I didn’t want to end up in quick-sand, unable to keep my head above the surface. If I stretched my arms up above my head, my fingertips just fell short of the lip of the pit. Frustrated, I slapped against the dirt wall and cursed, looking for a root or something to grab onto.
Up above, the fake foliage atop my pit rustled, and I slid back into the mud, cringing to the far corner of the pit. Visions of the T-Rex filled my mind, and I waited for that long, toothy head to lean over and chew me up and spit me out.
Several dark, hulking figures leaned over the edge of the pit, and in the deepening twilight, I was able to make out the grinning face of Bgha.
“ Meh ,” he said down to me.
Great. My caveman paramour had returned. Salvador was going to be so pissed at me…if he ever found me again.
*** *** ***
The cavemen were able to get me out of the pit with a group effort. I raised my arms – because going with them was preferable to waiting to be eaten – and they hauled me out with callused, brutal hands, their fingers digging into my flesh so hard I was positive I’d have bruises.
They were strong, though, and within moments I was up on the muddy bank, covered in slime and shivering in cold.
Bgha put a proprietary hand on my lower back. “ Meh !”
The others didn’t argue. They figured I was his. No one else was quite so vile and overbearing, after all. They gathered up my purse and bound my hands in front of me with a dirty piece of leather.
With their little spears pricking my back, I was pushed to the front of the small party, a mud-covered, miserable captive. I dragged my aching feet as we went along the small path, eyes stinging from the mud. My wet hair plastered to my face as I swung my head, looking for a hopeful glimpse of Salvador.
I never saw him. A little part of my hopes died with me when I realized he wasn’t coming.
We walked for a few hours, until the moon was high in the sky and I was stumbling into the scenery in exhaustion. I’d thought that we might have stopped earlier than this, but they seemed to want to press on.
Bgha barked something at me. I shook my head, not understanding his language. It was clear soon enough when he
Similar Books
The Valentine Date: Long Distance, Billionaires and Former Bad Boy's Collection
Mel Ryle, N.K. Pockett, Ashley Winters
