Joshua’s hand slid to the solid, familiar weight of his .45 on his hip. His watch read ten after seven but pitch-black air still pressed up against the windows. He ran quickly but quietly down the wooden staircase into the first floor kitchen, crossed the floor, then paused. The rattling at the front door had stopped. The dog’s barking had subsided to a low, threatening growl that rumbled in the back of the Cairn terrier’s throat. Joshua grabbed his leather jacket off a hook, shoved his hands into gloves and his feet into his boots.
Then he threw the back door open and heard a voice.
A muffled cry rose on the wind. So faint, he could barely hear it, but unmistakable nonetheless. There was a woman out there somewhere in the cold and dark. She was frightened. And in trouble.
The gun was tight in his grip. He stepped outside, pressed his body against the side of the house and crept toward the porch. The friend whose house this was—Daniel Ash—was a bodyguard and private security specialist who’d recently hired Alex and Zoe to join him in the business, as he converted the country property into a safe house and home base for operations. Meanwhile, Daniel’s wife, Olivia, was a journalist whose newspaper had a reputation for tenaciously exposing criminals and corruption.
The Ashes weren’t strangers to tough situations. Joshua couldn’t even begin to guess what kind of trouble might be waiting in the darkness. But as he focused his heart on the faint, terrified sound of the woman’s cry as it seemed to rise and fall between the gusts of wind, the idea of leaving her alone in the cold while he waited for backup was unthinkable. Joshua reached the corner of the house.
He saw her. She was lying on the porch lit by the dim light from the upstairs window. Her legs were bound just above the cuff of her high-heeled vintage boots. She was wearing thick black tights, a plaid skirt that stopped at the knees and a long-sleeved sweater, but no jacket. Her hands were gloveless and tied together in front of her. Her body was shaking.
So much was wrong with this picture. If she’d been abducted, then why dump her here? If a kidnapper was going to tie her hands, why not tie them behind her back?
He stepped up onto the porch. The wood creaked under his boots. Her head rose. A whimper slipped from her lips. Joshua took a deep breath and prayed that this wasn’t a trap. Then he crossed the porch, knowing he was going to do whatever he could to save her life, whether it was a trap or not.
“Hey.” He knelt down beside her. “It’s going to be okay. My name’s Joshua Rhodes. I’m here to help you.”
Her face tilted toward him. Large dark eyes looked into his face, framed with long, full lashes and filled with fear. Something in their depths hit him like a one-two punch to the gut. She was terrified—and she was beautiful. Cascades of blond hair spread out around her shaking shoulders. He reached for the gag and froze. A gold velvet ribbon parted her lips. Another larger red ribbon had slipped around her throat from what he could only guess had once been a blindfold. Two other ribbons bound her hands and feet. He sat back on his heels. His heart shuddered in horror and sympathy. She’d been wrapped up like a Christmas present.
What kind of evil was this? Who would ever do that to someone?
Never let your eyes get all distracted by the looks of a pretty woman. They’ll knock your mind off course, distract you from the job you’ve got to do, and bring you nothing but trouble and pain. His late grandfather’s voice suddenly echoed in the back of his mind. Growing up it was the only kind of answer he’d ever really gotten from the widower to questions of why the family was just him, Gramps and Dad. Joshua slid his arms from his leather coat. “I’m just going to drape this over you while we figure on what’s going on here.”
But she shook her head furiously like she was even scared of his jacket.
God, please help me. He took a deep breath as he prayed. His eyes rose to the skies above. What kind of trouble is this woman in? What kind of danger am I getting myself into by helping her?
TWO
Panic rose in Samantha’s chest. She could feel the land mine pressing against the small of her back and had no clue how sensitive the trigger was. But if this strange man suddenly dropped his coat on her or moved even a little, would the explosion kill them both?
Please, God, help me make him understand the danger we’re in!
Faint morning light now rose at the horizon, casting the snow and trees around them in long shadows and shades of blue. But she could still barely see Joshua’s face.
“So, you don’t want my coat?” He said the words slowly, like he’d just been thrown a curve ball and was struggling to make sense of what was happening. He set his coat down on the porch beside her. “It’s okay. I promise. I won’t hurt you. I’m a corporal in the Canadian army. It’s my job to help people.”
My heart wants to trust you, soldier. But my mind’s telling me not to be naive.
Both of his hands rose slightly. There was a handgun in his grasp. “What if we start by my untying your gag?”
“No.” Her head shook. The muffled cry sounded more like nah than no. She closed her eyes. This was useless. She’d never been that great at knowing how to talk to people even when she’d had a voice. Besides, she could shake her head all she wanted, but that didn’t mean he’d actually listen. Just like Eric never seemed to hear her whenever she explained she was actually very happy spending her evenings working at home alone and didn’t want him showing up with fast food or a DVD. Maybe Corporal Joshua Rhodes was a better man than most. But even still, eventually he was going to just take matters into his own hands, and pick her up or something, and kill them both.
“Go!” she pleaded through her muffled gag. At least one of them should have the opportunity to getting out of this alive. “Run!”
Tears filled her eyes. It was hopeless. Her go sounded like ga and she couldn’t even make a sound that was anything like run.
“Go?” he asked.
Thank You, God! He understood that much at least.
“You want me to just leave you here?” He drew his hands back and looked at her like she was a very difficult problem he needed to solve. “You don’t want me to touch you, you don’t want me to untie you and you don’t want my coat? Instead, you do want me to hightail it out of here—and that’s just not going to happen. Right now, you and I are in this together. So, here’s how this is going to work, I’m going to ask questions. You’re going to nod yes or shake your head no. That work for you?”
She nodded. Yes.
“I get that you don’t want me to move you or touch you. Is it because you’re injured?”
She shook her head. No.
“Do you think something bad will happen if I move you?”
Yes.
“Will somebody will attack us? Like there’s somebody nearby lying in wait?”
No.
“How about a booby trap?”
Yes. Her eyes cut to the floorboards hoping he’d understand.
“Underneath you? Like a pressure-sensitive device?”
Yes! She nodded her head.
“Well, then I get why you’re so twitchy.” He set the gun down, reached into his back pocket and pulled out his knife. “It looks like you can move your head freely without setting it off. So, now that I know what’s going on, I’m thinking that if I’m really slow and careful I can probably cut off your gag and then you can tell me exactly what we’re dealing with, okay?”
Yes, but—
She swallowed back the thought. Her pulse was racing so quickly she was worried it alone might somehow set the land mine off. She hadn’t woken up this morning looking for a crash course in trusting her heart.
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