athletic socks. Lora watched, mesmerized by the play of muscles in his arms and chest as he bared long, narrow brown feet. That done, he stood up again, holding his socks in one hand as he gathered the rest of his clothes from the floor and spread them carefully over the iron footboard to dry. As he moved, Lora saw the spiderweb design of silvery white scars that marred the front of his right knee. So that was the reason for his limp. She didn't think she had kicked him that hard… If Lora thought the underpants revealed his backside, it was nothing to what they did to his front. She looked at the soft bulge beneath the doubled material of his fly, then kept on looking because she..couldn't help herself..
"Senor! Senora!" The voice from below brought Lora back to reality with a jerk. She blinked, and felt her face color hotly. Thank the Lord that Senora Rodriguez had interrupted when she had, before he had seen the fascination that must have been written all too plainly on her face. What was the matter with her, that she could find such a man sexually exciting? That was the question that plagued her as she wet her embarrassingly dry lips and, in response to his gesture, leaned down through the trapdoor to answer Seüora Rodriguez's call.
The Mexican woman handed up two chipped crockery plates filled with a steamy concoction of beans and tortillas, the scent of which made Lora's mouth water, a bottle and glasses, and two rough towels.
As Lora took the provisions and set them on the floor next to her purse, she realized that this might be her only chance to alert her hosts to her predicament. Perhaps Senor Rodriguez could summon the police while her captor slept, and he would be captured and she freed by morning. Throwing a quick, nervous look over her shoulder, she saw that he was occupied with dragging a blanket from the bed, his back to her. She leaned down through the opening again, her eyes fixed pleadingly on the other woman's face as she tried to remember enough Spanish to ask for help.
"Aidez-moi." Drat, that was French. Why hadn't she studied Spanish in school instead? French had never done her a lick of good, and now her lack of Spanish might very well end up costing her her life. Seüora Rodriguez was staring up at her with a slight frown wrinkling her brow. She obviously had not the slightest inkling of what Lora was trying to say.
"Como dice?" The question sounded puzzled. Lora abandoned her attempt to find the right Spanish phrase. She leaned further out of the opening, her voice hoarse with urgency as she whispered.
"I need help. Please. You must fetch—" She had been going to say la policia, one of the few Spanish words she knew, but was stopped in midsentence by a rough hand closing around the nape of her neck.
Lora cast a single, terrified look back at her captor as his steel-like fingers threatened to crush the vertebrae in the back of her neck. She couldn't move, couldn't utter a sound, and didn't know if it was from fear or from some kung fu hold that he was using on her. He drew her inexorably backward,then leaned forward, a smile on his face, to speak to Senora Rodriguez.
"Perdoname, Senor Hording, no entiendo la señora …" Senora Rodriguez began, an apologetic smile on her smooth young face.
" No es importa ," he answered, smiling. Lora was amazed at the charm he could put into his voice and face as he continued soothingly. The only other phrase Lora caught was something about mi esposa, which she knew meant wife and guessed referred to herself. She could have sworn that he had not a trouble in the world as he concluded with, "Buenas noches, señora, y muchas gracias."
"De nada, señor. Buenas noches, señor y señora Harding.''
He had apparently managed to allay any slight puzzlement she might have aroused in Senora Rodriguez, because the woman walked away from the ladder without a backward look. He bent, never letting go of Lora's neck, and closed the trapdoor very gently. Then he
"Senor! Senora!" The voice from below brought Lora back to reality with a jerk. She blinked, and felt her face color hotly. Thank the Lord that Senora Rodriguez had interrupted when she had, before he had seen the fascination that must have been written all too plainly on her face. What was the matter with her, that she could find such a man sexually exciting? That was the question that plagued her as she wet her embarrassingly dry lips and, in response to his gesture, leaned down through the trapdoor to answer Seüora Rodriguez's call.
The Mexican woman handed up two chipped crockery plates filled with a steamy concoction of beans and tortillas, the scent of which made Lora's mouth water, a bottle and glasses, and two rough towels.
As Lora took the provisions and set them on the floor next to her purse, she realized that this might be her only chance to alert her hosts to her predicament. Perhaps Senor Rodriguez could summon the police while her captor slept, and he would be captured and she freed by morning. Throwing a quick, nervous look over her shoulder, she saw that he was occupied with dragging a blanket from the bed, his back to her. She leaned down through the opening again, her eyes fixed pleadingly on the other woman's face as she tried to remember enough Spanish to ask for help.
"Aidez-moi." Drat, that was French. Why hadn't she studied Spanish in school instead? French had never done her a lick of good, and now her lack of Spanish might very well end up costing her her life. Seüora Rodriguez was staring up at her with a slight frown wrinkling her brow. She obviously had not the slightest inkling of what Lora was trying to say.
"Como dice?" The question sounded puzzled. Lora abandoned her attempt to find the right Spanish phrase. She leaned further out of the opening, her voice hoarse with urgency as she whispered.
"I need help. Please. You must fetch—" She had been going to say la policia, one of the few Spanish words she knew, but was stopped in midsentence by a rough hand closing around the nape of her neck.
Lora cast a single, terrified look back at her captor as his steel-like fingers threatened to crush the vertebrae in the back of her neck. She couldn't move, couldn't utter a sound, and didn't know if it was from fear or from some kung fu hold that he was using on her. He drew her inexorably backward,then leaned forward, a smile on his face, to speak to Senora Rodriguez.
"Perdoname, Senor Hording, no entiendo la señora …" Senora Rodriguez began, an apologetic smile on her smooth young face.
" No es importa ," he answered, smiling. Lora was amazed at the charm he could put into his voice and face as he continued soothingly. The only other phrase Lora caught was something about mi esposa, which she knew meant wife and guessed referred to herself. She could have sworn that he had not a trouble in the world as he concluded with, "Buenas noches, señora, y muchas gracias."
"De nada, señor. Buenas noches, señor y señora Harding.''
He had apparently managed to allay any slight puzzlement she might have aroused in Senora Rodriguez, because the woman walked away from the ladder without a backward look. He bent, never letting go of Lora's neck, and closed the trapdoor very gently. Then he
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