Read Online Tender Savage (Siren Publishing Allure) by Rosemary J. Anderson - Free Book Online
Authors: Rosemary J. Anderson
Tags: Romance
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they had made plans, big plans. They were in love and were going to get married, have a bunch of unruly kids, and live in the country, happily ever after and all that. But just a few hours later, he’d caught her riffling through his papers. She’d stolen the key to his office, intent on finding out about their next mission in the Middle East. When she was confronted, it hadn’t taken much for her to spill the beans and confess everything. She’d wanted to brag, he remembered, triumphant at being able to pull the wool over his eyes. Admitting to being a spy, she’d gone on to brag that her mission had been to get close to a member of the SAS, her remit, do whatever she had to, even use sex to get the information. She’d boasted how she’d not only used him, but a fellow officer as well, deciding that she’d have more chance getting what she’d wanted if she increased the odds. He recalled the devastation her confession had caused. His heart had been ripped in two. Hurt, he’d demanded to know who else had succumbed to her charms and, his face setting into a glacial mask, he’d listened to her extolling the virtues of his friend, going into graphic detail of their amorous encounters.
Angry and disillusioned, he’d demanded she come quietly, and even though he’d been deceived, he’d promised to do all he could to help her. Realising there was no escape, she’d surrendered gracefully and reached up to kiss him, but she hadn’t been quick enough. Her knife had failed to hit its target. He’d glimpsed a flash of a blade and had moved in the nick of time, the blade just missing his throat. Furious at his survival, she had become possessed. He could have overpowered her easily enough, but still his heart had betrayed him. Not wanting to hurt her, he’d tried to reason with her, but she’d fooled him again, and, about to yield the knife, she had instead whipped it down his cheek, laughing hysterically, and then in a moment of complete insanity, she had turned it on herself and had embedded it in her own heart. He had been left bereft, feeling her loss as surely as if he’d killed her himself. He still recalled the blood seeping from her inert body, covering the floor like a deep, crimson pool. He’d vowed there and then never again to be taken in by a pretty face, but—he came back to the present—now there was Eleanor. Impatiently thrusting the disturbing memories from his mind, Abe looked at his watch. Time had passed, and Eleanor would be worrying.
* * * *
As he made his way back to the clearing some time later, Abraham’s intuition kicked in. Alerted by his sixth sense, he became aware of some subtle differences in the forest around him. The lush green foliage was damaged, the big treelike fronds were torn and bent, slight scuff marks could be seen in the undergrowth, and the air had a strange stillness. Motionless, he sniffed the air. The smells of the jungle had changed palpably, and even the birds seemed quieter. His senses now fully alert, he pressed quietly on toward the encampment, where only a bare two hours ago he’d confidently left Eleanor. Cautiously moving forward until he was close enough to observe without being seen, he removed the binoculars from his rucksack and hunkered down among the undergrowth, becoming one with the natural backdrop.
Eleanor was being dragged across the clearing by two men. She was crying bitterly, frightened. She was begging them to tell her what they intended doing with her. Crouching low, Abe moved in closer. Scanning the area, he counted two other men, no three, all Brazilians and all armed to the teeth. The one who appeared to be in charge was standing arrogantly, arms akimbo, in the centre of the clearing shouting orders. Jaw tight, Abe trained his binoculars on the man for some time—Carlos! He might have known. Once a man to be trusted, he’d then betrayed not only his friends but his country as well. Money and power had made him greedy. Getting
Angry and disillusioned, he’d demanded she come quietly, and even though he’d been deceived, he’d promised to do all he could to help her. Realising there was no escape, she’d surrendered gracefully and reached up to kiss him, but she hadn’t been quick enough. Her knife had failed to hit its target. He’d glimpsed a flash of a blade and had moved in the nick of time, the blade just missing his throat. Furious at his survival, she had become possessed. He could have overpowered her easily enough, but still his heart had betrayed him. Not wanting to hurt her, he’d tried to reason with her, but she’d fooled him again, and, about to yield the knife, she had instead whipped it down his cheek, laughing hysterically, and then in a moment of complete insanity, she had turned it on herself and had embedded it in her own heart. He had been left bereft, feeling her loss as surely as if he’d killed her himself. He still recalled the blood seeping from her inert body, covering the floor like a deep, crimson pool. He’d vowed there and then never again to be taken in by a pretty face, but—he came back to the present—now there was Eleanor. Impatiently thrusting the disturbing memories from his mind, Abe looked at his watch. Time had passed, and Eleanor would be worrying.
* * * *
As he made his way back to the clearing some time later, Abraham’s intuition kicked in. Alerted by his sixth sense, he became aware of some subtle differences in the forest around him. The lush green foliage was damaged, the big treelike fronds were torn and bent, slight scuff marks could be seen in the undergrowth, and the air had a strange stillness. Motionless, he sniffed the air. The smells of the jungle had changed palpably, and even the birds seemed quieter. His senses now fully alert, he pressed quietly on toward the encampment, where only a bare two hours ago he’d confidently left Eleanor. Cautiously moving forward until he was close enough to observe without being seen, he removed the binoculars from his rucksack and hunkered down among the undergrowth, becoming one with the natural backdrop.
Eleanor was being dragged across the clearing by two men. She was crying bitterly, frightened. She was begging them to tell her what they intended doing with her. Crouching low, Abe moved in closer. Scanning the area, he counted two other men, no three, all Brazilians and all armed to the teeth. The one who appeared to be in charge was standing arrogantly, arms akimbo, in the centre of the clearing shouting orders. Jaw tight, Abe trained his binoculars on the man for some time—Carlos! He might have known. Once a man to be trusted, he’d then betrayed not only his friends but his country as well. Money and power had made him greedy. Getting
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