Wild Orchids Read Online Free PDF Page B

as he pushed through the wall of foliage. She was caught fast, unable to get away because of the snarl of branches in her hair. Clearly he was aware of her predicament, because he moved forward unhurriedly. His face was dark with anger, his black eyes alive with it. A long scratch, from a branch as he chased after her through the jungle no doubt, bisected the bronzed skin of his left cheek from the edge of that fearsome mustache to his earlobe. His mouth was twisted into a nasty smile. As he loomed beside her, Lora cringed.
    His hands went beneath the hem of that awful shirt. Horrified, Lora remembered the gun. Would he shoot her now? She whimpered, cringing as far away from him as she could, her hands tearing at her trapped hair futilely while she kept her eyes fixed on his every move. The branch in her hair held firm as she pulled frantically against it. She could feel strands of her hair tearing out of her head…
    His hands were moving beneath the edge of the shirt. Then they were in view again, pulling free of the beltloops of his jeans an overlong leather thong that, wrapped twice around his waist, had served him as a belt. Lora sagged with relief. At least it wasn't the gun… Holding the thong in one hand, he reached for her with the other. She shrank away, but he caught her. His fingers bit into the soft bare flesh of her upper arm as he turned her so that her back was to him. Dragging her hands roughly behind her, he used the thong to tie her wrists tightly together behind her back. The leather was soft and supple, but that did not keep it from biting into her skin…
    "Please don't hurt me." The soft whimper was hers. She was terrified, shaking with fear as she tried to look over her shoulder to see what he was doing. His hands were in her hair now, untangling it from the branches with little care for the tender scalp to which it was attached. Lora winced at the short, sharp stings of pain. She was very much afraid there was worse to come…
    He didn't say a word as he dragged her after him out of the jungle, his fingers biting into her soft upper arm. She stumbled several times, nearly falling, but he pulled her roughly on.
    At the edge of the jungle, he turned to look at her. The sun striking those black eyes made them glitter with an unholy light. His mouth was tight beneath the fierce mustache.
    "I warned you, lady," he gritted, lifting a hand toward her. Lora cowered, and big tears slowly filled her eyes to run down her cheeks.
    "Please," she whispered, hating her own cowardice. "Please don't hurt me. I—I—please…"
    "Goddamn." His hand dropped as he surveyed her pleading face. The white-hot anger that had so terrified her faded from his eyes, to be replaced by something that very much resembled self-disgust. "Don't cry, lady. I'm not going to hurt you, okay? If you'll just give me a little cooperation. But you've got to understand that I'm on the run for my life. If you put me in a position where it's you or me, well… But if you're smart, you'll be fine. Only no more stunts like this one. I don't need the hassle."
    Lora stared at him, still quivering. He was not going to hurt her—if she did as he told her. He said she would be fine… Slowly, the shaking ceased and the flow of tears stopped. He still frightened her, but as she looked up at him some of the sick terror he had engendered in her faded. His voice had been reasonable, his expression irritable rather than murderous. He seemed almost human, in fact…
    "Do we have a deal?"
    Lora nodded, not trusting herself to speak. He was not going to hurt her. Relief made her lightheaded. She offered no resistance as he led her back to where the car waited.
    "Sit," he said, pushing her down next to a stunted palm tree only a few feet from the car. Lora sat, not caring that the sharp, prickly grass jabbed at her through the thin cotton blend of her dress.
    Crouching behind her, he untied her wrists, dragged them behind the tree trunk and tied them again, a