by Desiree Holt
Escape the Night
Desiree Holt
When Anya Kane escaped the darkness Virgil Branson was selling her into, she sought help from her boss, Gus D'Amato, a hot and hunky FBI agent. Six months later she is out of his office and in his bed, enjoying the most erotic sex imaginable and forging a bond with the man who makes every muscle in her body quiver. But things go dramatically wrong, and between bouts of thermonuclear sex that set them both on fire, Gus finds himself struggling to keep them both safe.
An Ellora's Cave Romantica Publication
www.ellorascave.com
Escape the Night
ISBN 9781419928062
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
Escape the Night Copyright (c) 2010 Desiree Holt
Edited by Helen Woodall
Cover art by Syneca
Electronic book publication June 2010
The terms Romantica(r) and Quickies(r) are registered trademarks of Ellora's Cave Publishing.
With the exception of quotes used in reviews, this book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without written permission from the publisher, Ellora's Cave Publishing, Inc.(r) 1056 Home Avenue, Akron OH 44310-3502.
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This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the authors' imagination and used fictitiously.
ESCAPE THE NIGHT
Desiree Holt
Dedication
To my very own personal hero, always in my heart, who helped me escape the night, and to Amy, Steve and Suzanne, the best offspring in the world who let me brainstorm with them endlessly.
Desiree Holt
Chapter One
Anya Kane raced through the dark streets, hugging the walls of buildings, her own footsteps echoing so loudly in her ears she was sure Virgil could hear her. She struggled for air, lungs burning, her side aching from running so far and so fast, but she couldn't stop. Her face throbbed where he'd slapped her and she could still feel the bruising imprint of his fingers on her breast when he'd come into the room. Virgil!
God, what an idiot she was. She'd escaped one house of horror only to end up in another. Fleeing her hometown of Burdette to the city had been the only way to get out of the awfulness that had been her home. Home? That was a laugh. Four walls that hid secrets of coldness and brutality. She'd had such hopes when she settled in San Antonio. Even when the first job didn't pan out, she kept going. Pushing ahead. Leaping from the frying pan into the fire.
She could still hear the steady weeping, then the unholy scream, and the men arguing in loud voice. Still hear Virgil's words in her head as he described what he'd be doing to "prepare" her for one of his "clients".
How impressed she'd been the day she ran into her friends Amy and Stella at the coffee shop where she'd been picking up lunch. She'd just gotten a great new job, one she didn't want to lose--one that promised to be very exciting--and she'd gotten into the habit of eating at her desk to catch up on her work. Her first thought was, "What are Amy and Stella doing here in the middle of the day? And with such a good-looking guy? They never said a word about him. And why aren't they introducing me to him?"
The man was so handsome, so smooth. She wanted to go out to lunch with him, too. Only neither Amy nor Stella had looked very happy, either to see her or to be there. 6
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Something was wrong but she couldn't figure out what. Was he the reason the three of them hadn't seen each other for a few weeks? That they weren't returning her calls? But this didn't look like a romantic interlude. Maybe he was helping them get new jobs.
"What a surprise," she said, standing awkwardly near the table. Then she looked at Amy and Stella and blurted out, "How come you two haven't returned any of my calls. Y'all mad at me?"
Amy dipped her head. "We've...uh...been busy."
"Yeah, busy," Stella echoed, and bent her head to her food. "And we're busy now."
Anya had felt suddenly foolish, stunned that they would treat her this way and embarrassed at her childish question, but Virgil gave her a warm smile.
"That's no way to treat your friend," he chided the women, and nudged out a chair.
"I'm Virgil Branson. Come sit down, you sweet thing, and tell me all about yourself."
He drew her like a moth to a flame, tantalizing her, spinning his web. He'd sat there between the two women, handsome in his custom-tailored suit, his expensively cut hair and his high-end shirt and tie, looking every inch the prosperous businessman.
"I can't stay long," she said nervously. "My boss is expecting me back right away. But it's really good to see y'all. I haven't seen you in a while, Virgil."
Then two businessmen, as well dressed as Virgil, approached the table. He didn't introduce them, just smiled and nodded.
"Time to go girls," he said, throwing some money on the table and pushing back his chair. "Anya, I might be giving you a call. Maybe we can spend some time together."
She couldn't believe he'd asked her that in front of her friends and she stood there, not knowing what to say. Stella had taken an instant longer to rise, pausing to dig in her purse and apply lipstick, then blotting it with her napkin.
"Come on," Virgil urged, a note of impatience in his voice.
"Coming, coming." Stella jumped up so quickly she almost knocked over her chair. 7
Desiree Holt
Anya stared at them as Virgil hustled the whole group out the door. She shook herself, wondering if she'd imagined the entire episode. When he called later in the week and asked her out, she hadn't seen anything wrong with accepting. She'd even gone to a store and learned about makeup and bought two new dresses. His eyes had been alight with interest when he came to pick her up and he'd complimented her on her beauty. So she'd gone out with him again. And then a third time. In Burdette circumstances had given her very little opportunity for a social life. This was part of what she looked forward to in the city. But then Stella and Amy had called, first cajoling and then screaming at her to stay away from Virgil. She'd put it down to jealousy. Oh, if it had only been that simple. She should have listened to them. Too late now. Way too late. And now she knew all about Virgil. Too damn much. At that moment she wished she was her old plain and mousy self, not calling attention to herself. By the time she'd figured out what he was really up to, she was a prisoner in the house he owned, with two businessmen haggling over her price.
Waiting and watching for the right opportunity, she'd managed an escape almost right under his nose. She knew when he came to her room for her he'd be furious that she'd slipped away. If she hadn't insisted she had to use the bathroom... If Virgil hadn't gotten in a heated argument with two of his "customers"... If everything hadn't happened the way it did...
Her stomach roiled at the thought of what had been waiting for her, panic coiled tight inside her. Her only piece of luck up until then had been Virgil's decision, for whatever reason, to leave her untouched. But it was coming, and soon. And now she had to keep running, but she had no idea where she was running to. She couldn't go back to her apartment. That would be the f
irst place he'd check. Nor could she find a way home to Burdette. Locating her in a town that small would be a snap. 8
Escape the Night
But where could she go? What could she do? She had no money, no identification and only the clothes on her back. All she'd thought about was getting away. But now what? She had to keep going. She couldn't let him catch her. She had no idea where she was, only that she was somewhere at the edge of downtown San Antonio. The neighborhood was a mixture of homes and townhouses but she wasn't familiar enough with the city to be more exact about her location. She only knew she couldn't stop and safety meant keeping as much in shadow as she could, waiting to hear following footsteps any moment. Or worse yet, see a car pulling up next to her and Virgil jumping out.
She ducked between two houses, stopping to catch her breath. Up ahead she saw the bright lights of a neighborhood shopping center. If she could just make it to there, maybe she could figure out what to do next. Moving as fast as she could, Anya managed to reach the cluster of stores surrounded by a parking lot filled with vehicles and crowds of shoppers moving from one store to the next. Anya looked frantically around. Could she approach one of these people? No, they'd think she was crazy. But somehow she needed to get help. At once she thought of her boss. She'd only been working there for three weeks and didn't know him that well. But if ever there was a man who could make her feel safe it was him. Would he think she was the victim of an overactive imagination? Still, he was in the right place...
Virgil had taken her cell phone along with her purse. But Anya had always had a habit of shoving loose change in her slacks. She shoved her hands in the pockets and her fingers closed around coins. She permitted herself on small sigh of relief. Now to find a phone.
There was a restaurant at the end of line of stores. It looked to be busy and Anya hoped she could get in and out before Virgil decided to look for her here. She hugged the wall of the little lobby, waiting until the hostess had seated a couple standing there, before approaching her.
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"Excuse me, do you have a pay phone here?" She hoped she didn't sound as nervous as she felt.
"Right over there." The hostess pointed behind her without looking up from the seating chart she was marking.
Anya took another calming breath. "I'm sorry, but do you also have a phone book I could borrow?"
The hostess gave her an impatient look as she dragged a telephone book out from a shelf in the stand and shoved it at her.
Please let there not be a hundred people with his name. But luck was with her. There was only one Augustus D'Amato listed. With shaking fingers she slipped the coin in the slot and dialed the number.
* * * * *
"Sorry the place is a little messy." Gus D'Amato unlocked the door to his condo and swung it open, gesturing for Anya to enter. "I wasn't really expecting company tonight."
"I'm sorry," Anya began, but Gus stopped her.
"No problem, Anya. Just preparing you for a bachelor's place."
"Oh." She managed a tiny smile as he ushered her into the living room. What she noticed wasn't any clutter but the magnificent view of downtown San Antonio from his living room. One entire wall was comprised of glass. From the vantage of the building's fifteenth floor, she could see nearly all the city spread out before her.
"Wow!" was all she could manage.
Gus came up behind her, almost but not quite touching her. "I sometimes forget how impressive this is. Would you like a drink? Coffee? Tea?"
"Just a glass of ice water, please."
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He led her to a long leather couch and waited until she'd settled at one end of it. Anya was grateful for the fact that he hadn't asked her one question during the ride from the shopping center. Only an FBI agent would simply pick her up, no questions asked, and bring her back to his place to ask her what kind of trouble she was in. She was still trembling so badly that she nearly spilled the glass of water he handed her. Gus sat down beside her and cupped his hand around hers, helping her steady the glass while she drank.
"Thank you." She set the glass down on the coaster he slid along the coffee table. Now she had to figure out the best way to explain her situation. While she was trying to put her thoughts in some kind of order, she took her first really good look at the man who'd hired her only a few short weeks ago yet had come for her tonight without hesitation.
Without the standard suit and tie all FBI agents seem to favor he looked...different. Tonight he had on faded jeans and a black t-shirt that clung to his well-muscled body like a second skin. His thick, brown, sun-streaked hair was slightly disheveled, enough so that Anya just wanted to run her fingers through it. Whiskey-brown eyes looked out from a face more masculine than handsome, with its square jaw, high cheekbones and now a sexy five o'clock shadow. Muscles rippled in his arms as he lifted the bottle of beer he'd fetched with her water.
Stop!
She was literally running for her life, terrified, with the only person she dared to ask for help and yet here she was ogling him and trying to imagine him naked. Her boss, of all people! Totally off limits under any circumstance. Virgil must have really rattled her brains with that hard smack to her face.
"I hate to damage the merchandise," he'd said, "but you have to learn to take orders. Ya know?"
Thinking of it now she touched her cheek where it was still sore and flinched at the contact.
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Instantly Gus set his beer down, slid over next to her and cupped her chin. His eyes studied her carefully. When his thumb brushed over the shadow beneath her makeup she winced and his eyes darkened.
"Don't move," he told her and headed for the kitchen. He returned holding an ice bag and a small towel. "Hold this to your face. It will help."
"Thank you." She took it, embarrassed for him to see her like this. But what choice did she have?
Gus sipped on his beer for a moment or two, giving her a chance to pull herself together.
"All right." His voice was calm. Soothing. "It looks like you're in some kind of trouble or you wouldn't be calling me after hours. And I'm also guessing it's either something you don't want friends or family to know about, or else there's no one you can call."
She nodded, lowering the ice pack enough to take another drink of water. Gus smiled, the curve of his lips warming his face. "You haven't worked for me all that long, Anya, but I got a good feeling when I interviewed you and in the few weeks you've worked for me you've really impressed me. I'm guessing you trust me to a degree--or my job--or you wouldn't have called me, so how about telling me what the problem is. Let's see how I can help you."
Anya put the glass down and swiped at the tears burning her eyelids. She was so embarrassed, at both her stupidity and gullibility, and she wasn't even sure where to begin.
Gus was still sitting close to her on the couch. He reached out a hand and gently wiped away the moisture on her cheeks. For a moment tiny jolts of awareness sizzled through her, a reaction so unexpected it shocked her. Then, just as swiftly it disappeared, and he was Mr. D'Amato, the man she worked for, and she was living in a nightmare.
"Come on," he urged in a soft voice. "Let's see how bad this really is."
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Escape the Night
Anya knew she had to tell him. He was her only source of help. And certainly his job put him in a position to rescue her, even if it was from her own stupidity. She lowered her gaze, unable to look at him while she talked. "I-I moved to San Antonio a while ago because I wanted something more than Burdette had to offer. Two of my girlfriends moved up here, too, and we see each other once a week."
"Doesn't sound too bad so far." His voice was deep and slow, wrapping around her like a velvet cloth. For a moment she just wanted to dive into him and shut out the ugly world.
"I haven't even gotten to the bad part yet." She drew in a shaky breath and let it out. "I've always been a little...s
hy. Not the one at the top of everyone's date list. So when I ran into Virgil and he asked me out, I didn't pay any attention to what Stella and Amy said." Tears gathered again and rolled down her cheeks. "Then tonight..."
She drew in another shaky breath.
"Take your time. We're in no hurry."
She gave him a watery grin. "You must do this a lot."
He smiled. "Save beautiful maidens?"
The grin disappeared. "I'm far from beautiful. That's why I was so flattered when Virgil... When he... But then he brought those men... He hit me... Those men..."
She dissolved into tears, unable to go on.
Gus drew her gently into his arms, his hands soothing her, but she felt a sudden tension in his body. "You wouldn't by any chance be talking about Virgil Branson, would you?"
She lifted her head. "Yes, why? How do you know Virgil?"
His hands tightened on her for a brief moment. "Darlin', Virgil Branson has been a thorn in my side for longer than I can remember. I never believed in fate before, but I damn sure do now. Otherwise what would have made you call me tonight?"
"You know Virgil?" She frowned, puzzled.
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Desiree Holt
"I'm going to know him even better. Let's get you some hot tea, with a little brandy in it, and we're going to have a long talk. I want to hear everything you can tell me about Virgil Branson. Everything."
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Escape the Night
Chapter Two
Six months later
Anya smiled as Gus turned out the bathroom light, stripped off his boxers and slid into bed beside her. She loved the feel of his big, hard body and the warmth it exuded. She still could hardly believe everything that had happened since that night she'd called him afraid for her life. In the past six months Virgil Branson had been arrested for running a prostitution ring, one that was backed by a major cartel and that sent its women all over the world. Sold them off like a piece of merchandise. Anya, Stella and Amy had been star witnesses in his trial. Now her friends had been relocated, Virgil was in a federal prison, and she and Gus were building a life together. Something she never could have imagined in her wildest dreams. Gus slipped an arm beneath her and pulled her toward him. She loved the feel of his body against hers, hard muscles beneath smooth skin. And he always smelled so good--that delicious combination of soap, outdoors and male that was distinctively Gus. Pressing her nose against his shoulder she inhaled deeply, taking his scent inside her.