Captured in Croatia

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Captured in Croatia Page 4

by Christine Edwards


  The hallway must be seventy feet long, and masterpieces abound. An LED spotlight illuminates one stunning work of original art after another: Miro, Kandinsky, Turner. On and on. This mansion would be a cat burglar’s wet dream. No wonder the gates are so solid and the guards out in full force. The value of his art collection far outweighs that of his glorious mansion.

  A double set of carved French oak doors await us. They look both medieval and romantic at the same time. He pushes down on one of the metal handles and steps back, gesturing with with his manicured hand. “After you, my dear.”

  Ah, Vasilije, always the elegant gentleman. I almost feel guilty about what is about to happen to you … almost.

  I step into a candlelit erotic fantasy. The first word that comes to mind is masculine … very masculine. The walls are a dark charcoal gray and the ceiling looks like hardwood, probably from an endangered tropical rainforest. The entire vibe is far more intimate and primal compared to the controlled grace of the rest of his opulent home.

  At the center of the room is a massive black bed. The quilted leather headboard and footboard are oversized and appear so sumptuous that I can just imagine myself being thrust up against one while being fucked ruthlessly from behind. Even his duvet and sheets are a sleek midnight black, undoubtedly the highest thread count that money can buy. This wicked bedroom is made for down and dirty sex. Period.

  The door clicks closed behind me. I turn with a “come hither” smile and await his move. He steps forward with smooth grace and strokes my hair while whispering, “I took one look at you tonight in that seductive dress of yours and I knew that I absolutely had to have you beneath me in my bed tonight. Nobody else would do.”

  He leans in closer and touches my lips in a heated kiss as his hands reach to release the bow tie at the back of my neck. I moan softly as his smooth, experienced lips take their time exploring my mouth. He’s a skilled, passionate kisser. I can easily understand why women are drawn to him.

  As the top part of my dress falls and bares my chest, I shimmy it down the rest of the way to pool on the floor. He breaks the kiss for a moment to pull back and stare at my pink-tipped breasts. He makes a rough sound of male approval as he grabs my ass from behind and pulls me forcefully up against his hard torso. I can feel his thick erection pulsing in need against his expensive wool slacks.

  Timing, Carew … time it perfectly so he doesn’t call out.

  I allow him to deepen the kiss and fondle my breasts before I pull back lightly in his embrace. “I want you so much, Vasilije. Please, allow me to undress you.”

  I reach up to seductively undo his midnight blue silk tie. Once it’s unknotted, I start on the buttons of his perfectly pressed white dress shirt. I marvel at his tanned, muscled torso. He’s incredibly fit and must work out on a daily basis. Not bad at all for a guy in his late forties. If it weren’t for my assignment, I may have been taken with him regardless.

  “Oh, you’re so gorgeous,” I coo up at him.

  He groans in both need and approval.

  Here we go ….

  I run my hands lightly back and forth against his hot torso, allowing my ballerina pink nails to skim across his nipples. Lull him ….

  With my right arm extended up toward his neck, I take an incredibly quick step to my left and pivot around him. In the split second it takes my feet to lock into place, I clamp my arm like an immobile vice around his neck. Self-preservation kicks in as he immediately fights for air by clawing at my arm, trying to wrench free.

  My left arm is banded across his mouth, preventing him from calling out. His struggle becomes furious. I loop my right leg around his ankle, sweeping his legs out from under him and bringing him down to the floor, where the frantic scramble for freedom resumes. He’s desperate to get loose, but I’ve got him pinned and he’s running out of oxygen.

  It should take about forty-five seconds for him to pass out in this sleeper hold. He’s very strong and I need every ounce of strength to keep both arms latched tightly together. As his motions begin to slow I feel a tinge of remorse. He seems like a nice man.

  “Shhh. You’ll be fine,” I whisper softly to him.

  It’s doubtful he can comprehend what I’m saying. He’s about to black out from lack of oxygen. Once he’s completely still I count to five before releasing him.

  Fast and furious, Carew!

  I whip the tie from his neck and secure it around his head and mouth, forming a quick, impromptu gag. Next I race into his closet and grab two more of his neckties. I make quick work of both his hands and feet. Even when he wakes, he’s not going anywhere. At least not until I’m long gone.

  I slip my dress back on and slide out of my heels. I can’t escape with them anyhow, they’ll only slow me down. I reach under the inserts of my shoes for the hidden set of thin, latex gloves. I was careful not to touch anything in the house on the way in. Well, with the exception of my mark.

  Our surveillance team learned from the wiretaps on his mobile that he works from home on the weekends. His office is located just off this bedroom. I race to the interior door in the far corner of the room, close to the balcony. As I enter I see a sleek mahogany desk sitting before a curved wall of glass windows. An oversized Mac and keyboard are the only things on top of it.

  I turn on the screen and immediately type in his lengthy password. My director was able to obtain it within the past twelve hours. He probably had to pay off someone in Juric’s network. Last I heard, the surveillance team was having a hard time cracking his encryption coding. This was part of the reason I had to be sent in. Direct access to his computer makes my job so much easier, especially now that I have the password.

  Luckily, the password is correct and I quickly scan through his files. Soon I locate the design I’m looking for.

  I print out the four crucial pages, and while they are coming out of his printer, I note that this design is very different from the edited specs our client showed us. Juric must have come up with his own programming design, one that’s completely unique but performs the same function. I’m not an engineer but I have a sneaking suspicion that he didn’t steal anything. I’m incensed that our client sent us out on a bad lead. These missions aren’t easy to put together, and now it seems it was all a waste of time. But there’s nothing I can do about it now. Once I have the four pages tucked away within my clutch, I clear the screen, turn the monitor off, and race back to the bedroom.

  Juric is just beginning to stir. I need to get the hell out of here. I flick on a chrome lamp that rests by the bed—one time on and then off. This is my signal to the crew staked out just outside the property line to briefly interrupt the feed to the security camera covering the balcony as well as the alarm system. Barefoot, I creep out into the chilly night, quietly closing the glass door behind me. I have to be quick, knowing that they are only giving me a two minute window with the cameras and alarm. If the guards sense the disruption is anything more than a glitch in the electricity, they will lock down everything and I’ll be trapped on the property.

  I’m silent as I cross over the smooth stone of the balcony to the carved balustrade. The garden below is large and well maintained. I just need to get down and around the corner of the mansion to my vehicle. Swinging first one then the other leg over the ledge, I hold tightly to the thick, smooth columns as I lower down into a crouch. Once I’m dangling from the base, I peer down and see that the pruned bushes are directly below me. Perfect.

  My feet are almost touching the cool leaves as I let go and do my best to control the fall. As I land, mostly in the bush, fresh scrapes open up from the force of hitting the branches. No matter, I’ve had worse. Within seconds I’m up and jogging swiftly to the edge of the building. I peek around the corner and see one of the guards on the far side of the fountain. He’s smoking a cigarette with his back to me. Excellent.

  I reach down into my halter and unzip my clutch to reach for my keys. Once they are tightly in hand, I suck in a breath for courage and sprint
toward my Nissan. I’m ten feet from my goal when everything explodes into mindless chaos.

  A horrific growl comes from deep within the shadows. I’ve no time to look as I hit the unlock button on the fob and jump into the car. Before I can close the door, a humongous black Rottweiler leaps at the car with such force that my door is slammed violently shut. The dog barks and snarls furiously at me through the window. A thick spray of saliva coats the glass as its nails rake furiously against the car. Thank heaven I didn’t arrive two seconds later ….

  I start the car in a fevered rush and I’m just about to tear out of there when I hear a terrifying shout through the window.

  “Stani!” Stop.

  I really don’t think so!

  I glance in the rearview mirror just as Zoran swiftly rounds the back of the car and pounds once on my side window with such force that I believe he’ll surely shatter the thing. There is a gun in his other hand. My eyes widen in panic and I throw the car into gear.

  He yells in an even louder, angry snarl, “Stani!”

  I’m petrified and can’t look at him as he yanks on the locked doors. I’m thankful that he’s not shooting at me through the glass but I’m too scared to take the time to analyze why not.

  I stomp on the gas and rip out of the circular drive. I have no idea if I ran over his foot or even if I’m dragging him along. The only thought banging about in my brain is: Damn, they’re going to be on me within moments! Drive, girl, drive!

  Two shots ring out from behind me, miraculously missing the back window and tires. I’m thankful this is a moonless night. As I speed down the shadowed, cobblestone drive to the gate, I’m so eager to get the hell away that I’m half-tempted to bust through it but instead slow down and enter the code …. Come on!

  It opens and I squeeze through when it’s just wide enough for my little compact to fit. With a fearful glance back, I see two sets of headlights coming after me, ripping their way down the drive at breakneck speed.

  Oh God! Time to put all those driving lessons to good use.

  The gate is already closing behind me, which fortunately will buy me a little time to get a head start away from this mess.

  A chill slithers up my spine. I have a horrible feeling that this won’t be the last I see of the sexy, enigmatic Zoran.

  Chapter Three

  The Tiger

  The girl has proven herself to be very difficult to control. I warned her. Twice. This never happens. I am accustomed to instant compliance. Period. Yet after I gave her the out in the hallway of the club, she still chose to continue in her pursuit of whatever she was after from Juric. I never doubted that her pretty little model act was nothing but a means to an end, but I had no way of telling my employer that. He has a weakness for gorgeous women and thinks they are harmless creatures incapable of deception. Had I tried to stop her, Juric would have only wanted her more. That’s just his nature, I’ve come to learn. Maybe now he’s learned his lesson. But she’s nothing I can’t handle.

  As I stand outside of her smoking, demolished vehicle, I know that I should finish this. I should put a bullet in her head and put this disaster of a night behind me. But I can’t. There is something irresistible about this puzzling girl, and I can’t help but be intrigued.

  She’s wild and untamed. So much so that I surprise myself by choosing not to walk away from the car. It would be far easier for me to just take her out. But no. I want her to explain in detail who she is and what the fuck she was after from my employer. She doesn’t know it but she’s about to be mine in every way possible.

  She’s trying not to moan but even now I can hear her soft sounds of distress. I couldn’t risk losing her during the pursuit, so I took out her rear tire with my Sig Sauer. She should’ve listened to me when I told her to ‘stop’ earlier. Then I wouldn’t have to deal with this fucked up mess.

  The fact that she broke through the guard rail was unexpected, but at least she seems to have made it through the crash. She’d better not have any serious injuries because a hospital is the last fucking place she’s headed.

  I crouch beside her window. “Vi ste moja sadasnja, princeza.” You’re mine now, princess.

  I feel it’s only fair to inform her of her fate. I decide to switch to English, wanting to be certain that she understands me clearly so she doesn’t fight back while I retrieve her from the wreckage.

  “Hold still now.”

  From what I can see of her face through her silky blonde hair, she seems to be teetering on the edge of blacking out; her grass-green eyes are unfocused, her breathing shallow. Her fresh-faced, golden glow has faded into a pale shadow of her earlier radiance, probably because of the blood loss. She seems to have a deep gash on her arm, and I can see that she is bruised and battered. Her small, feminine mouth opens as if she is going to protest, but she shuts it rather than question me. My eyes linger on her lips, which are plump and rosy.

  She understood me, though. I can tell by the way her trembling increased after I spoke to her. I’m aware of how thick my accent is when I speak in English, so it’s good that she’s paying attention.

  Before I retrieve her from the car, I remain crouched to assess the damage before taking any action. I always think my plans through before acting on them. That is simply my way.

  Realizing that I will have to lie flat on my stomach amid the crushed safety glass in order to get her out, I maneuver my large frame down with caution and work my upper body inside the car. I can feel cuts on my hands from the debris. They barely register to me. I’ve crawled across worse. Far worse.

  The girl is completely terrified. I watch her tremble, and her fear is so intense that I can nearly smell it on her. Even in this state, she is so gorgeous. Fighting back the torrent of lust that’s flowing hotly through my body, from her delicate floral scent to that silky blonde hair, I push hard against the seat belt latch at her hip. Nothing. Thinking that it’s jammed, I reach into my interior suit pocket and pull out a black Gerber tactical folding knife.

  The weapon opens with a smooth snick as it locks into place, and a small gasp comes from my pretty prey. The blade glints perilously close to her porcelain face. If I had a sense of humor, I might smile right about now. She’s so frightened of me, as well she should be. I’m a stone cold killer. I have been ever since I was sixteen years old.

  Whether she likes it or not, my beautiful little captive is going to learn a tough lesson in obedience. I’ve always been aroused by a challenge. I’ve always taken the hard road and over time I’ve even learned to yearn for it.

  ***

  “You’re mine now, princess. Hold still now.” His deep, bass voice is hard to understand, but I catch the meaning. Please, please make it quick! That’s all I can hope for as he slowly works his head and those impossibly wide shoulders inside the car.

  The deadly knife comes forward out of his breast pocket. He opens it with a practiced motion and my shaking increases tenfold. Where is he going to stick me with the awful serrated instrument? The throat? My chest? I try my best to hold still, not knowing what else to do. I’m sure as hell not about to beg him to spare me. I’m far too proud for that.

  I feel a strong tug and then a back and forth motion against my hip. He’s cutting me out of the jammed seatbelt, not stabbing me to death with his gruesome weapon. I nearly sob out loud in gratitude. As the belt gives way there is nowhere to go but down, and I fall directly onto him in the dark confines of the wrecked space.

  “Ugh, oh!” I can’t help but cry out pitifully as the cuts along my arms and my wrist explodes in agony. I definitely must have sprained it during the crash.

  I moan pathetically, the pain all-consuming, yet he says nothing to me as I try in vain to shift my weight off his imposing frame. Before I know it, his arms are around me and he’s swiftly working us through the small space to the outside of the car.

  It’s too dark to see but I know that I’m bleeding significantly. I can smell the metallic scent of my blood and feel the wet sti
ckiness on me. I’m lightheaded but I’m uncertain whether it’s from being banged about during the crash or the blood loss.

  A primal part of my brain tells me to use the last reserves of my adrenaline and try to run, to hide somewhere within the darkness. I push up slowly with my good hand and do my best to scramble back away from him, but I’m as weak as a kitten and mindful of my injuries. He has me in the steel trap of his arms. To my dismay, I get nowhere.

  I shudder inwardly, thinking that even on my best day, and with two functioning hands, it would be a challenge to break away. This guy’s a fighter. That’s crystal clear.

  Fading fast, I waver on the precipice of unconsciousness. I breathe in the cold air while fighting to stay lucid.

  Damn, I bet he’s going to take me straight back to Juric, and they’re going to torture the hell out of me until they get the truth. Either that, or give him the sick satisfaction of watching me die a slow death. That’s what’s done to spies who are unlucky enough to get caught with their mitts in the cookie jar, right? I was fully aware of worst case scenario when I agreed to this assignment. And man, this is it, without a doubt.

  Before I can blink, he’s standing upright and has pulled me along with him. In seconds I’m pressed firmly against his torso, like a floppy rag doll. My world tilts sideways as he lifts me up into his strong arms. With no words exchanged between us, he swiftly eats up the distance between us and his car.

  “N-no,” I manage to sputter as I try to shift out of his grasp.

  A tighter hold is all he offers. I’m an optimist by nature but I’m not dense. This is bad. I’m doomed. I can’t hold on much longer, and soon I pass out.

  ***

  It’s a damned good thing that I live for order and duty because if there was ever a temptation to relinquish my tight control, this stunningly beautiful creature would certainly be it. Pushing the heady thought aside, I jog with her held tightly in my arms back up the incline to the Maserati. Cops or curious civilians will soon notice the broken guardrail, and I don’t need any additional fucking complications tonight.

 

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