Lost and Found Read Online Free PDF

they got their money. That's why I was going to try to escape."
    In the moment before she glanced away, Sam saw real vulnerability. A vulnerability that she tried to hide. With a sigh, he reminded himself that she'd been through an awful lot. Being kidnapped and overhearing your own death sentence would be enough to spoil anyone's good temper. He had doubts that Babs Malone had a good temper, but he was trying to give her the benefit of the doubt.
    "You'd have been as good as dead with those stupid sheets. That trick doesn't work even in the movies."
    "Well, I had to try something."
    "Yeah, I suppose you did. Lucky I came along. By the way, why did you jump me when I came over the balcony? It wasn't too likely that I was one of the kidnappers."
    She shrugged. "I don't know. I guess I've gotten a bit edgy lately."
    "Edgy? You damn near pushed me off the balcony. Not to mention the fact that I could have really decked you."
    She shrugged again. "Sorry."
    Twigs and leaves littered the floor of the cave and Sam began gathering a small pile of them together. He was aware of his companion watching him out of the corners of her eyes and he wondered what she was thinking. He didn't look at her. Right now he had more important things to think about than the moods and thoughts of a spoiled heiress.
    "I didn't plan on getting stuck away from my truck like this so I don't have a whole lot with me, but I've got some soup. That will have to hold us until this evening."
    "Thank you."
    "For the soup? Don't mention it. I could use something myself. Lurking in the roses all night works up an amazing appetite." He dug through his pack, pulling out a lighter, a foldable aluminum pan and some packages of dry soup.
    "I meant thank you for rescuing me." Sam glanced up, his eyes meeting hers. He'd never seen eyes quite that color. They were brown but not an ordinary brown. They were the smooth rich color of milk chocolate. Framed by thick curving lashes, they were the kind of eyes a man could fall into if he were susceptible. But Sam wasn't susceptible. Not in the least.
    "You're welcome." He picked up the soup packages and tossed them to her, looking away to avoid the seductive pull of her eyes. "Make yourself useful and open these while I start the fire. There's a bit of a breeze and this stuff is pretty dry. I don't think there'll be enough smoke to give us away.''
    He bent over the small pile of twigs, coaxing them to catch and then feeding the tiny flame until the fire was burning steadily. He poured water out of his canteen into the aluminum pan and set it on the fire. Looking up, he found Babs still struggling with the paper pouches. Exasperated, he reached over and took them from her.
    Good Lord. He hadn't expected a pampered woman to be a Daniel Boone in the woods but surely any moderately intelligent individual could open a packet of soup. What did she do when she didn't have servants around to feed her? Starve?
    Sam dumped the contents of the package into the simmering water and was about to crumple the envelope when something caught his attention. The white paper was marred by rusty stains, an unmistakable tint. With a curse, he dropped the empty packet and grabbed her hands. Ignoring her attempt to pull away, he tugged her hands toward him, turning them palm up.
    In the dim light that filtered into their hideaway, the abrasions on her palms looked angry and painful. Sam sucked in a quick breath in sympathy.
    "How the hell did you manage this?" Still holding one of her hands, he reached for his pack and rummaged around until he came up with a tube of antiseptic cream.
    "I did it on your precious rope. And don't act like it's any concern of— That's cold!" She broke off in mid-sentence as the creamy salve hit her scraped palms.
    "Sorry." Sam swallowed a pang of guilt. He hadn't considered her unprotected hands when he'd all but thrown her over the balcony. Not that he'd had much choice. With an armed kidnapper just across the room they'd