Unmasking the Mercenary Read Online Free PDF Page B

afraid of him. She was afraid. She overcame it most of the time, but not now. Not with this man. His legs held hers in an unrelenting vice. She was trapped. Pinned. Panic welled inside her. No man had ever treated her like this. Manhandled her. Not since Iraq.
    Flashes of terrible memory suffocated her. Something wild broke inside her.
    “Get off me,” she growled, squirming beneath him, fighting her panic, trying not to let it show.
    He only watched her face. Curious. Dominant. A deeper memory began to surface. Oh, God. Her heart slammed into terrified beats. “No.” She writhed and bucked but he held her effortlessly in place. “No. Let me go!”
    The memory morphed into the face of an Arab man. Over her. On top of her. The sound of tearing clothes shook her. She squeezed her eyes shut and screamed. She didn’t want to remember.
    “No, no, no, nnnooooo!”
    “Hey.”
    “Let me go. Please-let-me-go.” She heard herself begging and couldn’t stop. The Arab’s face lingered, making her sick to her stomach.
    “I’m not hurting you.”
    “Let me go.” Tears sprang into her eyes. She was going to be sick.
    Rem rolled off her. Shaking, she stumbled to her feet and ran to the bathroom. Blood left her limbs, leaving her trembling with pinpricks running up her arms and legs. She fell in front of the toilet, heaving air into her lungs. The Arab’s face was imprinted in her mind. Over her. Leering. Speaking in that language that was so awful to her now.
    She didn’t throw up. But emptiness yawned inside her. She fell onto her hip and pressed her cheek against the cool wall, flattening her shaking hand beside her head. She closed her eyes and sobbed. Would it never leave her? Would she never be free of its hold on her?
    “I don’t want to remember,” she wailed. “I don’t ever want to remember.”

Chapter 3
    R em stood in the bathroom doorway staring down at Haley. “What the hell?”
    He moved closer, kneeling on one knee. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.” He reached to touch her shoulder, but she whimpered and cringed away from him.
    The reaction stung. He was accustomed to people, women in particular, shying away from him. He hated how that always bothered him. But seeing Haley crumpled on the floor tore through his usual ability to remain immune. He’d been careful with her. He knew he hadn’t hurt her. Not physically. Pinning her to the floor had triggered something horrible in her.
    He reached for her once more. Slowly. “I’m not going to hurt you.”
    She cringed again, but he brushed the loose strands of her dark hair back from her face anyway. She looked at him with wide, terrified eyes. It ripped something away, more of his immunity. Ignoring her struggles and pitiful pleas, he lifted her into his arms and carried her from the bathroom. She pushed with her hands at his chest, but her resistance wasn’t in earnest. Those awful whimpers. God, he’d never felt so wretched before, which was unbelievable. His life was full of wretchedness. He had a head full of bad memories. He couldn’t remember a time when he’d actually felt happy. Well, once, but even that had ended badly.
    Going into the living room, he sat on the couch and held her until she quieted against him.
    I don’t want to remember.
    He understood that kind of pain. Knowing she suffered something similar made her a kindred spirit. No one had ever touched that part of him. But for some reason, Haley had.
    She moved her head, tilted it until he met her teary, aqua-blue eyes, a much deeper blue than his own. Wariness lingered there, as though she questioned his intent now that she’d grown aware of how he held her. He didn’t move, only held her loosely, not wanting her to feel trapped, and definitely not wanting to see that awful fear again. She met his gaze and gradually the wariness faded and a kind of curiosity took its place.
    Feeling spread through him, warmth he seldom experienced. He wanted to know what lived within her