Read Online Tender Savage (Siren Publishing Allure) by Rosemary J. Anderson - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Rosemary J. Anderson
Tags: Romance
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like diamonds along her lashes, and then almost dismissively, he turned from her. Hearing her breathe a sigh of relief unleased an explosion of anger inside him and, turning, he drove his fist into her soft stomach. With a sharp cry, she fell to the ground and, clutching at her middle, she curled into a fetus position, writhing in agony.
Lifting a foot, a steel-capped boot found its target, and she screamed again.
Crying out, Eleanor begged and pleaded with him to stop.
Crouching beside her, Carlos stared into her terrified, pain-etched eyes, and, grabbing a handful of her hair, he lifted her face close to his.
“I suggest you take time to reconsider your answer, sweet Eleanor, because next time I will leave you to the mercies of my men, who have very…diverse ideas in how to extract information.”
Letting go of her hair, he watched impassively as her head hit the ground, making her cry out in pain.
Almost tenderly, he reached out and trailed a finger along the tear stains, marring her pale cheeks.
“Such beauty!” he murmured dispassionately.
Abraham watched the scene enfolding before him with eyes that were detached. The only giveaway as to the force of his emotions was the tightening of his jaw and the twisting of his gut. Checking his watch, he looked at the canopy above his head. It would soon be dark. Hunkering down, he drew his knife from the holder and calmly cleaned it, his face set impassively and his eyes empty.
* * * *
Lying on her side, Eleanor was curled into a ball, her hands and ankles tied. Tears stained her grubby face, and quivers of distress shook her body. She was frightened and desperate for a solution to her plight—if only she could think of a way of escaping. The man named Carlos asked about discs, but she knew nothing about any discs. How could she convince him she was telling the truth? And where was Abraham? It was hours since he’d left the clearing.
Had he come back and seen what was happening and left, stranding her out here subject to the mercy of Carlos and his band of desperadoes? A frightened, nervous chuckle at her dramatic choice of words escaped her parched throat. Or was he still out looking for whatever it was he had left for? Or more frighteningly, had he been killed or injured and was lying in a pool of blood out there on the jungle floor? She whimpered in distress. Poor Abraham, and poor her. Was this all that fate had in store for her? Murdered out here in the jungle, her body never to be found, the remains eaten by the wild animals, and her loss always remaining a mystery. The tears came thick and fast. She couldn’t help it. It just wasn’t fair. She should be safely in Manaus waiting to complete her assignment, not lying on a filthy jungle floor surrounded by things that wanted to hurt her. She sniffed, rubbing her wet face and snotty nose on the sleeve of her blouse. Who said life was fair anyway?
* * * *
Darkness had fallen. The encampment was illuminated by the blazing fire the men had built in the centre. Two of the four guards were standing beside it drinking coffee, Carlos was eating some kind of stew from the pot hanging over the fire, and the other two men were still pacing the parameter, awaiting their turn to eat. Eleanor was where the men had left her, still tied up on the ground under the makeshift canopy.
Moving furtively, Abraham began to circle the encampment.
The guards were relaxed, pacing the parameter, calling out jokingly to each other, and laughing when they passed by. That was good. The more relaxed they were, the easier it would be to pick them off. His hand went to the knife at his belt, and he felt an iciness enter his eyes.
An inattentive sentry walked nonchalantly past the place where Abraham, fully alert, was hiding. This was just the moment he’d been waiting for, a guard who was not focused, who didn’t appreciate the seriousness of the game, who knew nothing of stealth, and who temporarily let his guard
Lifting a foot, a steel-capped boot found its target, and she screamed again.
Crying out, Eleanor begged and pleaded with him to stop.
Crouching beside her, Carlos stared into her terrified, pain-etched eyes, and, grabbing a handful of her hair, he lifted her face close to his.
“I suggest you take time to reconsider your answer, sweet Eleanor, because next time I will leave you to the mercies of my men, who have very…diverse ideas in how to extract information.”
Letting go of her hair, he watched impassively as her head hit the ground, making her cry out in pain.
Almost tenderly, he reached out and trailed a finger along the tear stains, marring her pale cheeks.
“Such beauty!” he murmured dispassionately.
Abraham watched the scene enfolding before him with eyes that were detached. The only giveaway as to the force of his emotions was the tightening of his jaw and the twisting of his gut. Checking his watch, he looked at the canopy above his head. It would soon be dark. Hunkering down, he drew his knife from the holder and calmly cleaned it, his face set impassively and his eyes empty.
* * * *
Lying on her side, Eleanor was curled into a ball, her hands and ankles tied. Tears stained her grubby face, and quivers of distress shook her body. She was frightened and desperate for a solution to her plight—if only she could think of a way of escaping. The man named Carlos asked about discs, but she knew nothing about any discs. How could she convince him she was telling the truth? And where was Abraham? It was hours since he’d left the clearing.
Had he come back and seen what was happening and left, stranding her out here subject to the mercy of Carlos and his band of desperadoes? A frightened, nervous chuckle at her dramatic choice of words escaped her parched throat. Or was he still out looking for whatever it was he had left for? Or more frighteningly, had he been killed or injured and was lying in a pool of blood out there on the jungle floor? She whimpered in distress. Poor Abraham, and poor her. Was this all that fate had in store for her? Murdered out here in the jungle, her body never to be found, the remains eaten by the wild animals, and her loss always remaining a mystery. The tears came thick and fast. She couldn’t help it. It just wasn’t fair. She should be safely in Manaus waiting to complete her assignment, not lying on a filthy jungle floor surrounded by things that wanted to hurt her. She sniffed, rubbing her wet face and snotty nose on the sleeve of her blouse. Who said life was fair anyway?
* * * *
Darkness had fallen. The encampment was illuminated by the blazing fire the men had built in the centre. Two of the four guards were standing beside it drinking coffee, Carlos was eating some kind of stew from the pot hanging over the fire, and the other two men were still pacing the parameter, awaiting their turn to eat. Eleanor was where the men had left her, still tied up on the ground under the makeshift canopy.
Moving furtively, Abraham began to circle the encampment.
The guards were relaxed, pacing the parameter, calling out jokingly to each other, and laughing when they passed by. That was good. The more relaxed they were, the easier it would be to pick them off. His hand went to the knife at his belt, and he felt an iciness enter his eyes.
An inattentive sentry walked nonchalantly past the place where Abraham, fully alert, was hiding. This was just the moment he’d been waiting for, a guard who was not focused, who didn’t appreciate the seriousness of the game, who knew nothing of stealth, and who temporarily let his guard
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