Heart of the Dragon Read Online Free PDF

looks. “You are related to the Vatan family,” the one with the knife accused.
    She stared at him in disbelief. First Kashadlin Santelli had insisted she worked for the Nalinat family, whoever they were, and now this greasy pair had abducted her because they thought she was part of the Vatan family.
    Rebecca’s mind whirled with confusion and fear. “I’m a cartoonist.” There. That’s telling ’em, she thought weakly.
    “You know where Mayura Vatan has gone.”
    “No.”
    “You’ll tell us where she is. You’ve been telling people that she’s your sister.”
    “Half sister. I don’t
know
where she is. I thought your boss realized that.” She spat out the name with contempt. “Mr. Santelli.”
    The men traded blank looks. She was more bewildered. “You tell us where she is!” the man with the knife shouted. He came over and knelt in front of her. “You tell, or you’ll be sorry.”
    She felt icy perspiration on her forehead as she stared at the blade. “I’m already sorry. Sorry your mother had children.” She tried to laugh, but the sound trailed off in breathless horror.
    He put the knife tip in the center of her scoop-necked bodice, snagged a bit of material, and sliced upward in one neat stroke. Rebecca’s blood froze, but her heart was pumping wildly. She could either make a joke or faint. “I always … wanted a plunging … neckline on this dress,” she managed to say.
    “You’re in a pleasure house,” the man told her, his eyes glinting with victory. “We’ll show you exactly what that means.”
    For the second time she thought about screaming, for whatever good it would do. But suddenly loud footsteps sounded in the outer hall, and someone knocked fervently. The men leaped to open the room’s door. A woman spoke to them in rapid Thai, wringing her hands. Rebecca craned her head at the squeals and protests coming from elsewhere in the house, running feet, and men’s voices speaking in fluid Thai, which she couldn’t understand at all.
    Her captors shoved the door wide open and bounded out, apparently escaping in the opposite direction. She gazed wide-eyed at the doorway and waited with dread. Whoever had arrived might be worse.
    Soon footsteps came down the hall. Her heart froze as Kashadlin Santelli filled the doorway. He wore only black slacks and a gray dress shirt, with the collar open and sleeves rolled up. He looked casual except for the gleaming black pistol in one hand and the expression ofstark concentration on his face. When he saw her, his intense gaze flickered over her with disbelief, and a second later, darkened with fury.
    Rebecca watched him warily, every nerve on edge. She’d given up trying to understand what anyone wanted or suspected, but she didn’t doubt that this man was no less an enemy than the men who’d kidnapped her.
    “Playing both sides can get you in serious trouble,” he said sternly, but the puzzlement in his eyes softened the taunt. He came to her in two long, graceful strides and knelt in front of her. Other men were running down the hall after her abductors.
    “You did this,” she accused, her voice shaking with fury. “You did this to me.”
    “No.”
    “You said you would.”
    “I didn’t do this.” He tucked the gun under his belt and leaned half across her, angling his body so he could reach around her. She was engulfed in the curve of his body, as if he were hugging her. She turned her head to escape looking at him. His cheek was close to hers. His scent was warm and sweaty. The cool Mr. Santelli had actually gone to the trouble of exerting himself to find her. For what reason?
    His hands closed over the tape that bound her wrists. He ripped it with a strength that made her jump. “Sorry,” he said brusquely, working at the tape. “Are you hurt?”
    “What kind of charade is this?” She gulped for breath and to keep from crying in sheer frustration. “You order two cavemen to maul me, then you show up for some kind of